Delighted beyond measure were all the Brownies with Prince Florimel’s most amazing feat, and their pleasure manifested itself in broad smiles upon smug faces, the nodding of round little heads, the slapping of hands on each other’s backs, and the good-natured poking of fists in each other’s stomachs.
They pressed close to Florimel and kept wringing his hand in congratulation. Not even a Brownie could do what he had done.
All wanted to examine the bow that had accomplished a result so wonderful. But it was just like the ordinary bow of any archer, and its wood and gut presented no solution of the remarkable happening; it was no story, they saw it themselves.
Then, noting that Florimel’s attire was torn in many places, and that here and there his fair flesh showed, they stripped him of his garments, replacing them with skin-tight trousers that with the greatest difficulty they drew over his legs, long, tapering shoes, a jacket with big buttons, and a pinnacle-shaped cap whose top could not sustain itself but fell over on his head.
Many nimble hands attended to his valeting, and though Florimel observed that he was garbed as an ordinary Brownie, of which there were a large number, he was rejoiced at the eagerness they now displayed to transform him to a Brownie, and make him one of themselves. Yet he could not help thinking, as he glanced first at them, and then at himself, how different he was from them all.
Try as they might they could not bestow on him the pop eyes, big ears, and broad, distended mouth that parted in a smile so evident of inward satisfaction. He was as fair and sightly as one could wish to be, yet he would rather have looked like a Brownie. Only in size did he resemble one.
Some such thought must have been in the minds of the Brownies too, for they seemed puzzled as they inspected their new comrade.
While they were making their first awkward overtures of friendship the attention of all was suddenly diverted to two ordinary Brownies rolling a watermelon up the steep hill. The melon was perhaps thrice their size, and they puffed and grunted over what to them was a herculean task.
Just when their labor promised to be light, with the crest of the hill almost reached, they stopped to take their breath, and in doing so relinquished their hold on the melon.