“We shall all be caught, by and bye,” grumbled [[36]]a young and very lazy fairy. “Men will catch and drag us out, just as fish are caught in nets, or pulled out by hook and line. Who can, who will escape these mortals?”
“There won’t be any fairies left in Belgic land,” wailed another who seemed ready to cry.
“We’ll all be no better than donkeys,” sobbed another. “I know we shall.”
So after a long chat, it was proposed that a delegation should wait on the king of the fairies, to ask him to call a convention of all his subjects, of every sort and kind, to see what could be done in the matter. It would not do to let things go on at this rate, or there would not be one fairy left; but all would become servants, slaves, or beasts of burden for human beings. They might even make the fairies wear iron clothes, so they should have no freedom, except as their masters willed: and, even women would be their bosses.
They agreed unanimously to hold the Congress, or Convention, at Kabouterberg, or the Hill of the Kabouters, near Gelrode. All promised to lay aside their grudges, and forget all social slights and quarrels. Even the sooty elves, from the deep mines, were to be given the same welcome and to be treated with the same politeness, as the silvery fairies of the meadows, that were as fresh as flowers and sparkling as [[37]]sapphires. It was agreed that none should laugh, even if one of the Kluddes should try to talk in meeting.
The invitations were sent out to every sort of fairy known in Belgium, from Flanders to Luxemburg, and from the sandy campine of Limburg, to the flax fields of Hainault. Over land and sea, and from the bowels of the earth, from down in the coal and zinc mines, to the highest hill of the Ardennes, the invitations were sent out. Not one was forgotten.
Of course, not every individual fairy could come, but only committees or delegations of each sort.
It would be too long a story to tell of all who did come and what they said and how they behaved; but from the secretary of the meeting, the story-teller obtained the list of delegates. The principal personages were as follows:
Honors were paid first to the smallest. These were the Manneken, or little fellows. They stood not much higher than a thimble, but were very merry. The Manneken had triangular heads, and their eyes always twinkled. They were very much like children, that do not show off before company, but are often very bright and cunning, when you do not expect them to be.
Their usual occupation was to play tricks on servant girls and lads, milkmaids, ostlers, [[38]]farmers and the people that lived in the woods or among the dunes. The general tint of their clothes and skin was brown. Sometimes people called them Mannetje, or Darling Little Fellows. They and the rabbits were great friends.