bars, while gratings, bolts and creaking hinges were all about her,
and unable to return to her people, the fairy first thought out a plan
of possible escape. Then she agreed to become the man's wife. She
resolved, at least, that, without touching it, she should oil all the
iron work, and stop the noise.

She was a smart fairy, and was sure she could outwit the man, even if
he were so strong, and had every sort of iron everywhere in order to
keep her as it were in a prison. So, pretending she loved him dearly,
she said: "I will not be your wife, but, if you can find out my name,
I shall gladly become your servant."

"Easily won," thought the lover to himself. Yet the game was a harder
one to play than he supposed. It was like playing Blind Man's Buff, or
Hunt the Slipper. Although he made guesses of every name he could
think of, he was never "hot" and got no nearer to the thing sought
than if his eyes were bandaged. All the time, he was deeper and deeper
in love with the lovely fairy maid.

But one night, on returning home, he saw in a turf bog, a group of
fairies sitting on a log. At once, he thought, they might be talking
about their lost sister. So he crept up quite near them, and soon
found that he had guessed right. After a long discussion, finding
themselves still at a loss, as to how to recover her, he heard one of
them sigh and say, "Oh, Siwsi, my sister, how can you live with a
mortal?"

"Enough," said the young man to himself. "I've got it." Then, crawling
away noiselessly, he ran back all the way to his house, and unlocked
the door. Once inside the room, he called out his servant's