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many a time he wished his feet would grow larger, or that people wouldn’t notice them so much; and all the comfort he had was running and jumping by himself in the wild pasture, and thinking that none of the shepherds’ children could do the like, for all their pride of their great feet.

“Tired of this sport, he was lying in the shadow of a mossy rock one warm summer’s noon, with the sheep feeding around, when a robin, pursued by a great hawk, flew into the old velvet cap which lay on the ground beside him. Fairyfoot covered it up, and the hawk, frightened by his shout, flew away.

“‘Now you may go, poor robin!’ he said, opening the cap; but instead of the bird, out sprang a little man dressed in russet-brown, and looking as if he were an hundred years old. Fairyfoot could not speak for astonishment, but the little man said—

“‘Thank you for your shelter, and be sure I will do as much for you. Call on me if you are ever in trouble, my name is Robin Goodfellow;’ and darting off, he was out of sight in an instant. For days the boy wondered who that little man could be, but he told nobody, for the little man’s feet were as small as his own, and it was clear he would be no favourite in Stumpinghame. Fairy-