“HAVE YOU GOT THE MAY-DEW?”
As he did so, all the others faded away out of sight, and left the gnomes and Merrimeg alone in the room.
Brother Nibby poured out more of the May-dew into brother Malkin’s hand, and Malkin rubbed it gently over the poor wrinkled old face. The face began to take on color, and the wrinkles began to disappear.
“More, brother,” said Malkin.
In another moment the May-dew was all used up. The instant it was gone—well, Merrimeg herself, a little girl, her own little self, rosy-cheeked, barefoot, lively as a lark, was sitting in the chair before the fire. She jumped down and cried out:
“What have you been doing to me, you naughty gnomes?”
“Rather cross to-day,” said Malkin.
“No, please, tell me! I’m sorry,” said Merrimeg.
“You tell her,” said Malkin.