Gillydrop was quite sorry now that he had brought them for Dunderhead’s supper, when he heard how they regretted their mother; so he made up his mind to save them.
“You shall neither of you be boiled,” he said, walking up to them across the table, which was like a large plain. “I will take you back to your mother.”
“But how?” asked Teddy and Tilly, both together. “We cannot go back across the sea alone.”
“Oh yes, you can,” replied the Red Elf. “I brought you here, and can send you back; that is, if I only had a leaf.”
“Here is one,” cried Tilly eagerly, pulling a faded leaf out of her pocket. “I picked it up in the wood to-day, it had such pretty red and yellow colours.”
“Oh, that will do for a boat,” said Gillydrop joyfully.
“But it’s so small,” objected Teddy.
“I’ll make it large enough,” said the elf. “You’ll see.”
“But how can we go on without sails or oars?” said Tilly timidly.
“You don’t need any,” rejoined Gillydrop, laughing; “you know every tree has power to draw back its own leaves. The boat we came in was a leaf, and, as soon as it was launched on the air, it went straight back to the tree in the Country of the Giants upon which it had grown; and as this leaf comes from a tree on earth, it will go straight back to its tree.”