GRETCHEN sat drearily waiting for her father to come from the tavern in the village. Many years of sunshine and shadow had passed since her mother had kissed her, and then had crossed the dark silent river to a land of brightness, joy, and peace.

      Gretchen was almost in despair; for there was only a small black loaf in the cupboard, and she was often beaten when Hans, her father, was angry.

      Suddenly there was a timid knock at the door.

      "Come in," said Gretchen.

      The door swung slowly open, and seven little women entered.

      "We are cold and hungry," said the eldest, "as we have come a long distance; we are very tired, and would like to stay all night."

      "You are very welcome," replied Gretchen, after a moment's hesitation, as she piled more fagots on the fire.

      She divided the loaf into seven portions, and filled seven tin tumblers with sparkling water from a spring close by.

      "I am sorry there is no more bread," she said, pleasantly, "but you are welcome to this."

      In a few moments the bread had disappeared.

      "We thank you very much," said all the little women in chorus, as they gathered round the fire. "And if we ever have the chance, we will do as much for you."

      "You are very kind," replied Gretchen.

      They all fell to talking, and it was not long before Gretchen told her story, which was dreary enough.

      "My father does not like strangers," she said, hastily, as the loud laughing and shouting of Hans and his boon companions was borne on the air, "and you must be very quiet while he is in the house. My bed is poor and small, but it is a little better than the bare ground," she added; smiling.

      Hans was in a very ill humour. He raved and stormed a long time; finally seizing Gretchen, he thrust, her out of doors, declaring he would kill. her if she dared enter the house again.

      "Others can play at that game!" exclaimed several fine voices; and fast and furious fell the blows of the seven little women.

      Hans growled savagely, and releasing his daughter, turned to his small antagonists, dealing heavy blows, but they were without avail. Crying: out in rage and terror, Hans, seeing his efforts were in vain to conquer his foes, ignominiously fled, shouting for help.

      Poor Gretchen wept, bitterly as she fell to the ground. A light snow was falling, and the wind swept down from the mountain in wild, fierce gusts. She heard her father's cries of terror, and saw him flee towards the village, closely pursued by the seven little women.

      It was not long before they came back, and the eldest rang a crystal bell. It was answered by a multitude of bells chiming through valley, wood, and plain, until the air was filled with music.

      A beautiful little coach drawn by seven milk white horses appeared. A footman in splendid livery opened the door, and the seven little women, accompanied by Gretchen, entered, and the carriage rolled away. Stopping before a huge rock which Gretchen had often climbed, the footman blew a shrill whistle, a door swung open, and to the carriage rolled through a long avenue, shaded by trees laden with flowers and fruit, until it stopped before a superb palace.

      There was the sound of music and laughter borne on the fragrant air.

      "Her gracious majesty has come," said several voices, as they entered the palace.

      "As the sleeping flowers haste to greet the sun at morn, so we haste to greet her highness, our loved cousin," replied the little women.

      Gretchen was conducted to a chamber hung with blue and silver tapestry. The furniture was of ivory, covered with blue velvet wrought with pearls. Oh, how beautiful it all was!

      Presently a tiny lady entered, and making a queer little bow, said, "Princess Lalleen bade me dress you, for the queen desires to see you."

      "The queen?" repeated Gretchen.

      "Yes," was the reply, "the queen of the fairies."

      "Oh, how glad I shall be to see her!" her eyes sparkling with pleasure; then added, humbly, "I am only little Gretchen Andersen, and I fear she will not be pleased."

      "Ah!" was the kind reply; "her majesty is very kind, and loves good children. Princess Lalleen and her sisters have told how kind you were to them, and how you took care of a sparrow that a wicked boy wounded and left for dead, and many other things, also."

      "It was nothing," blushed Gretchen.

      While they were talking, the fairy had combed the young girl's hair, removed her ragged clothes, and dressed her in a robe white and soft as the summer clouds.

      "You must be like the fairies while here," she said, as she led her to a mirror.

      Gretchen scarcely recognised herself. She was no larger than her attendant; her hair hung in burnished waves about her waist, her dress was looped with pearls and coral, tiny sprays swinging in her ears. She was then taken down an ivory staircase bordered with gold, a door was thrown open, and a footman called out, "The Earth-child!" and Gretchen found herself in a large room full of little people.

      Princess Lalleen the eldest of the seven little women - advanced to meet her. Taking her hand, she led her to the further end of the room, where was a pearl throne thickly studded with diamonds. On the throne was the loveliest little creature Gretchen ever beheld. Her dress was of the tint of the inner leaves of a blushing rose, a tiny diamond sparkled on her brow, and a crystal wand, tipped with a blood-red ruby, was in her mite of a hand.

      The princess bowed very low as she stopped before the throne.

      "Your gracious majesty," she said, with an enchanting blush, "this earth-child was cast out into the bitter night, because she befriended myself and sisters. For that kind act we took the liberty to bring her here, knowing that you are the friend of the deserving."

      There was a murmur sweet as the sound of the fountain's song at even from the multitude of fairies, who said, with one voice, "Oh, beautiful Queen Alteen! friend of the deserving!"

      After the applause had died away the lovely queen rose, and said, in a voice so sweet that Gretchen held her breath to listen, "You did quite right, my dear cousins. Ladies Bee and Butterfly, bring hither the scarfs woven from rainbows."

      This was a great honour, and the seven sisters looked highly pleased, and murmured grateful thanks as they donned the scarfs.

      "And now,"" continued the queen, "bring a scarf of moonbeams as a reward to the earth-child for her kindness."

      There was a shout of approval from the fairies at this; and, to Gretchen's wonder and delight, the queen took a scarf that glinted like moon beams on emerald leaves, and throwing it over her shoulders, said, "As long as you keep this, we will watch over you. And now, my lords and ladies, away to supper and the dance."

      Folding doors were thrown open, and Gretchen saw a long table bending beneath the most exquisite flowers and fruits, with dainty crystal dewdrops for drinks in superbly traced caps. All was hilarity and mirth. A tiny chimes of bells sounded, and, as if by magic, the table disappeared, merry music thrilled the listening air, and lovely couples whirled in the dance.

      A smart little gentleman fairy in a violet suit, bowed to Gretchen, and begged her to dance the next set with him. Just as they took their places, Gretchen felt herself shaken violently, and opening her eyes, she saw her father bending anxiously over her.

      "My little Gretchen," he exclaimed, eagerly, "I feared you had gone to your dear mother. I have good news for you, dear," kissing her fondly, "I have sworn never to taste another drop of drink again. Your uncle Gredel is going to America, that glorious golden land, and we will go with him."

      Gretchen threw her arm about his neck, with a glad burst of tears.

      "I am so glad," she cried, joyously. "This is better than staying with the fairies."

      And she told her wonderful dream - or adventure - she scarcely knew which. Hans laughed merrily, as he listened.

      He kept his word, and there is not a happier pair now to be found than Hans Andersen and his daughter.