"Who are you? What are you? Where are you?" cried Jim, hardly knowing
whether to be angry, amused, or frightened.

"You ask a good many questions at once, don't you?" said the silvery
voice. "_Who_ am I? _What_ am I? _Where_ am I? Eh! I'm the Queen of
the Elfs," said her tiny majesty, "and if you look sharply you'll see
where I am."

Just then a moonbeam streaming through the trees overhead fell across
his path, and, dancing up and down on it, he saw the tiny elfin
queen,--a lovely little creature with long, bright, wavy hair, and
glittering garments fluttering in the breeze, wings like a butterfly,
a mischievous smile on her face, and in her hand a wee wand tipped
with a star. But the brightest thing about her was the twinkle that
played hide-and-seek in her eye.

Nimble Jim took off his hat and made a low bow.

"Now, what is all this about?--and why are you neglecting your work,
sir?" demanded she, sternly.

Jim trembled beneath her royal gaze, little as she was, and replied
humbly:

"May it please your majesty, I wish I'd some melon-seeds that'd grow
like magic. I am dead tired of being nothin' but a cobbler. I want
to be a melon-merchant, and raise the finest, largest melons ever
seen,--supply the whole kingdom with them, and grow to be as rich as
the king himself."