“What do you expect to find there?” they were asked.
“Little kobolds, with pointed caps, playing at ball with rubies and emeralds, and digging with golden spades,” answered Babie.
“And they shall give me an opal ring,” said Elfie, “But Armine does not want the kobolds.”
“He says they are bad,” said Babie. “Now are they, Mr. Ogilvie? I know elder women are, and erl kings and mist widows, but poor Neck, that sat on the water and played his harp, wasn’t bad, and the dear little kobolds were so kind and funny. Now are they bad elves?”
Her voice was full of earnest pleading, and Mr. Ogilvie, not being versed in the spiritual condition of elves could best reply by asking why Armine thought ill of their kind.
“I think they are nasty little things that want to distract and bewilder one in the real great search.”
“What search, my boy?”
“For the source of everything,” said Armine, lowering his voice and looking into his muddy hole.
“But that is above, not below,” said Mary.
“Yes,” said Armine reverently; “but I think God put life and the beginning of growing into the earth, and I want to find it.”