fastened upon the unhappy old man, and began pulling him. "To the ant-hills!"
they cried; "off with him to the ant-hills!" But when they found that Toonie
still held him, quickly they all let go.

One fairy, standing out from the rest, pulled off his cap and bowed low. "What
is your will, master mortal?" he inquired; "for until you have taken your wish
and gone, we are all slaves at your bidding."

They all cringed round him, the cruel little people; but he answered nothing.
The moonbeams came thick, laying their slender white palms graciously upon
Toonie's head; and he, looking up, opened his mouth for a laugh that gave no
sound.

"Ah, so! That is why--he is a mute!" cried the fairies.

Quickly one dipped his cap along the grass and brought it filled with dew. He
sprang up, and poured it upon Toonie's tongue; and as the fairy dew touched
it, "Now speak!" they all cried in chorus, and fawned and cringed, waiting for
him to give them the word.

Cudgelling his brain for what it all meant, he said, "Tell me first what wish
I may have."

"Whatever you like to ask," said they, "for you have become one of our free
men. Tell us your name?"

"I am called Little Toonie," said he, "the son of old Toonie that was lost."

"Why, as I live and remember," cried the little elderly man, "old Toonie was
me!" Then he threw himself grovelling at his son's feet, and began crying: