His cottage stood in the midst of green meadows, and his eyes grew
glad as he looked at the green grass. After the heat of the fair
summer's day it was so cool, so refreshing.

At the foot of the meadows lay a large lake of clear blue water. The
fisherman knew it well. It was there his work was done, through
sunshine or through storm.

To-day, as his gaze wandered from the green meadows to the blue lake,
he thought he saw the waters stretch out soft arms, until slowly they
drew the fair meadows, the little cottage into a loving embrace.

The fisherman, his wife and their foster-child lived very quietly on
this pleasant spot. It was but seldom that any one passed their door,
for between the beautiful meadows and the nearest town lay a wood. So
wild and gloomy was the wood, so tangled its pathway, that no one
cared to enter it.

Moreover, it was said that there were strange beings lurking amid the
gloom--ugly goblins, misshapen gnomes; and there were shadowy spirits
too, which flitted through the branches of the strongest trees, and
these even the bravest would not wish to see.

Through this dark and haunted wood the old fisherman had often to
journey.

It was true that he entered the dreaded shades with fear, yet no
spectre ever crossed his path. But perhaps that was because the
thoughts of the old man were pure, or perhaps because he never entered