"I should think," she said, "that anybody that could see things in
fires might see very nice things in this one."

When she who might command deigns thus delicately to make a mere
suggestion, it is the part both of chivalry and of loyalty to obey. I
should feel that having my head chopped off was altogether too good for
me if I hesitated at such a time. "Come," I said, "and let us see what
the fire really looks like. What does it look like to you?"

"Oh, it doesn't look like anything at all to me, only just the fire.
What does it to you?"

"It looks like a fire to me too, but it is the fire of a smith's forge.
The place where it is looks half like a room and half like a cavern. It
is all of rocks, but there is the forge and there are the chimney and
the anvil and the bellows and all sorts of smith's tools."

"You can see things all around the fire, just the same as in it, can't
you?" said the child.

"Oh, to be sure; when I want to see these things that make themselves
into stories, I can see them almost anywhere, only I think the fire is
a particularly good place. And who do you think is working at the
forge? It is an ugly little dwarf, the very one whom we saw the other
night, who made the magic helmet, the brother of the one who stole the
treasure from the river nymphs. You remember he was a clever smith,
else he never could have made that wonderful helmet. Now he is at work
here trying to make a sword. And he does make a sword too, but he does
not seem pleased with it when it is finished, and he leaves off his