"Now I will add this piece of advice," said Pertzal, grinning maliciously. "If ever this does happen, hold thy tongue about thy gift to thy husband. The best of men can hardly resist the temptation of making money out of their womenkind,—safety lies in silence."
"Oh, how can I thank you?" sighed Etelka.
"Thank us by being happy," said Thimblerig. Then the fairies faded from sight, and Etelka was alone.
I have not time to tell of the wrath of Etelka's father and mother and brothers, when, as she grew strong enough to dance again for their bidding, it was found that no gold-pieces followed her light steps, and that the fairy gift had been withdrawn. Their ill-humor and discontent made the life of the hut worse than ever it had been before. Etelka sank into her former insignificance. Very willingly and faithfully she worked for them all, but she could not win them to content. One after another the boys departed from home. Marc enlisted as a soldier, Jocko joined a party of smugglers and disappeared over the Italian frontier, Hanserl took service with the charcoal-burners high up on the mountains. When Sepperl of the Mill asked again for Etelka's hand in marriage the following year, there was no question as to what answer should be given him. Her father was only too glad to say yes. Etelka was made happy at last.
She had been a wife several months before she made trial of her second fairy gift. It was one evening when she and Sepperl were in their garden, and he was telling her his plans with regard to a bit of waste land which he had lately fenced in.
"It will take many roots and seeds to make it like the rest," he remarked, "but little by little we can do it without feeling the cost, and in the end it will be the best of all."
Then, with a sudden flash in her eyes, Etelka left her husband and began to dance. To and fro over the bare earth she sped with quick graceful steps, now advancing, now retreating, now describing circles, with her arm poised above her head like wings and her laughing eyes fixed on Sepperl. He was puzzled by this freak on the part of his pretty wife, but stood watching her with great admiration, her cheeks were so flushed, and her movements so light and dainty.
She stopped at last, came to him, and laid her hand on his arm.
Then with a sudden flash in her eyes, Etelka left her husband and began to dance.—[Page 202].