“So that is the reason it disappeared,” said Harry. “Why did you pick it up?”
“That’s my work,” responded the elf. “I belong to the Pin Elves. We have to gather up the pins that you mortals lose or throw away.”
“How funny!” cried Harry. “But what do you do with them?”
“Well,” replied the elf, “a long time ago our king ran a needle in his foot. Now we have a law that whoever injures the King’s person shall be banished. Of course the King could not banish himself, so he had to banish all the needles. No sewing could be done after that, so we gradually took to using pins for fastening our clothes together, and now we need so many that most of our work is pin-gathering. That is the reason we are called the Pin Elves.”
Harry looked at the little fellow curiously and saw that his garments had neither button nor sewed seam. Shoes, stockings, tight breeches, belted coat,—all were fastened together with pins.
“But I thought that you elves worked at night only,” said Harry.
“So we do, usually,” responded the elf, “but some of us occasionally are sent out on a dark, cloudy day like this, when there is little danger of the sun shining upon us. I had bad luck last night, didn’t find a pin, so my master made me come out again to-day.”
“Well, I am your master now,” said Harry, “so you can stop work and go home. Only, you must take me with you.”
Off they started, the elf leading, in the direction of Central Park. The elfin hat which Harry wore made him invisible, and the elf himself of course was visible only to Harry; therefore they attracted no attention as they walked up the Avenue and along Fifty-ninth Street. They entered the Park at the Sixth Avenue gate, and went a little way until they came to a small rock with a rather flat top.
The elf scrambled up on this, and sticking a pin in a little hole in the centre and pressing upon it thrice, sang in a queer, croaking voice the following: