N  the  Tyrol,  that  true  home
of  the  good  little  dwarf-
folk,  is  a  lovely  valley
where  in  olden  days  a  sub-
stantial farm-house  stood,
whose  owner  had  come
from  the  other  side  of  the

mountain    enticed  by  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  this

favoured  spot.
In    those    days   it  was   still   possible   to  find   good

servants  capable  of  forming  a  faithful  attachment  to


King  La^irin.  33

their  master  and  his  household.  But  the  farmer  thought
they  were  still  better  in  his  old  home,  and  for  this  reason
he  generally  brought  his  servants  from  the  other  side  of
the  high  mountain  ridge.
Spring  had  returned ;  the  mountain  pastures  were
green  once  more,  and  it  was  time  for  the  herds  to  leave
the  valley ;  but  the  old  herdswoman  who  for  years  had
had  the  charge  of  the  mountain  farm,  and  in  whose
capability  and  conscientiousness  the  farmer  had  the
fullest  confidence,  now  took  ill  and  died.
This  was  a  matter  of  some  anxiety  to  the  farmer  and
his  household,  for  everything  was  ready  for  the  removal
of  the  cattle.
"  Go  over,  Tony,  to  our  native  valley,"  said  the  old
farmer  to  his  only  son  and  heir.  "  An  aged  cousin  of
mine  lives  there  ;  they  say  her  daughter  is  a  fine  girl ;  it
might  be  a  good  thing  if  you  could  persuade  her  to  come
to  us  as  herdswoman."

Early  next  morning  the  young  man  set  out  on  his  errand.
