He put on the cap and immediately disappeared from the children's sight. When night came, Timothy fell asleep, but Bess watched; and at midnight she saw her new friend appear upon the hearth, conducting a perfect army of little workmen and workwomen. He waved his cap thrice around his head, and at once little carpenters set to building up the cottage-walls, little whitewashers made the ceilings wholesome, little painters covered all the woodwork with a coat of yellow. By sunrise what a change! The broken bricks of the floor were transformed into pretty blue and white tiles, lattice windows took the place of their old and dim ones, the pots and pans were scoured until they shone, roses looked in at the outer door, where rows of larkspur and of gillyflower, of bachelor's-button and "Love-in-a-mist" were growing on either side of a neat flagged walk to the garden gate. Instead of Timothy's old straw mattress, the boy lay on a clean white bed; and his sister, who had kept awake all night in utter wonderment, falling asleep at dawn, because her eyes refused to stay open any longer, found him shaking her arm, and begging her to come and share in the nice hot breakfast that—wonder of wonders!—their mother, sober, and clean, and smiling, had made ready at the fire.
It was a day of marvels! The mother seemed to have entirely forgotten her past degraded life, and was once more the brisk and rosy woman Simon had fallen in love with. A dozen times a day she paused in her spinning, or weaving, or baking, to run to the gate and wonder when dear father would come back. Timothy worked in the garden, Bess sewed and helped her mother, not daring to tell what she alone knew of the magic change. That night Bess slept, and Timothy kept watch. At midnight the fairy appeared upon the hearth, leading a dozen little bakers in white caps and aprons.
"Now make ready fifty loaves of your best white bread, that the goodwife may sell them on the morrow!" the fairy ordered; and at once the tiny men set to work mixing and kneading and baking, and at daybreak there were fifty of the sweetest white loaves money could buy. The fame of Simon's widow soon spread through the village, and every one was eager to see the wonderful reform worked in her, no less than in her cottage. Her bread was bought up as fast as she could furnish it, and next night Bess watched while Timothy slept. Then Bess saw the fairy appear at midnight, followed by a swarm of bees like a cloud.
"Make fifty pounds of your clearest honey, that the goodwife may sell it on the morrow."
The bees flew out of the door, and next morning the hives were found overflowing with luscious honey that smelt like a bed of clover all a-blow.
Next night came the bakers, and next night again the bees. Money flowed into the widow's purse as rapidly as it had once flowed out. Now was there lacking but one thing to complete their happiness, and that was the return of Simon to his family. Bess and Timothy together planned what they should do, and when the month had passed away, and the night of the full moon had come once more, neither went to bed, but both hid, watching for the coming of the sprite. Exactly at twelve o'clock, their kind little friend made his appearance, and summoning cooks and bees, ordered them to keep up their service on alternate nights, until the dame's coffers should be full to last a lifetime. Seeing him about to take leave, out rushed Timothy and Bess, threw themselves on their knees before the fairy, and, thanking him a thousand times over for his goodness, begged for one more act of grace—their father's release and restoration to his family. The fairy looked graver than they had ever seen him, and his brows puckered in a frown.
"Your father has committed an offence we never pardon," he said, after a short silence. "He has been punished according to our laws, and must abide by the sentence, which is imprisonment for life."
The children burst into tears at this, and cried so that the fairy sneezed several times.
"I believe I am taking cold in all this dampness," he said, shivering slightly. "Come, dry up that deluge, and say good-by to me. The utmost I can do is to look up your father when I get back again, and tell him you are well and happy. I suppose you do not know that for some years past he has been attending our holiday frolics as musician, since our own best player broke his arm. Simon was under oath never to look at us, or to betray us, and this was the first time he transgressed. But our laws are very strict, and I am afraid to bid you even hope to see him again. One thing I may tell you. The king's chief counsellor has a mantle of red, worked with a device of six golden birds flying into a serpent's open jaws. If you should ever find that mantle, walk boldly to the oak-tree in the forest, knock three times, and cry, 'The King's Chief Counsellor!' Then you may be able to secure your father's freedom, but not else. And now, good-by to you."
The good elf vanished, and Timothy and Bess spent more time than ever in the forest. They had now taken their mother into the secret, for she, poor woman, had become as gentle and loving as she had before been hard and cruel. The one desire of the entire family was to get possession of the chief counsellor's mantle, but nothing seemed more unlikely.