his tunnel again. Then Squeedinks ran into the house and told his aunt all that had happened to him, and what strange things the Cod Liver Oil had accomplished. TOM NOW-YOU-SEE-HIM-NOW-YOU-DON’T TOM NOW-YOU-SEE-HIM-NOW-YOU-DON’T It was a cold, snowy day just before the Christmas holidays, and little Tom was standing near one of the shop windows, gazing longingly in at the beautiful gay toys. He was wondering whether he would find the wonderful red sled, shining skates and bright, brisk-looking wagon under _his_ tree on Christmas morning, or if Santa Claus would hold it against him that he had been naughty in refusing, at first, to take his cough medicine, and pass him by without leaving him any gifts at all. Of course, he had taken the medicine later, when his mother had insisted. But he had heard that Santa Claus sometimes punished children when they refused to obey promptly. While he was pondering over this, selecting the gifts he would like best and hoping to be forgiven for his naughtiness, a huge snowball sang by his head and crashed through the great glass window. He turned quickly, in time to see his playmate, Teddy, disappear around the corner. Just then he felt strong hands grasp his coat collar roughly and heard an angry policeman exclaim, “That’s the time I caught you!” Poor Tom! He knew that Teddy had thrown the snowball, but he didn’t want to be a tattle-tale, so he allowed himself to be hauled away to the nearest jail. He was thrust into a dark cell, not much larger than a clothes closet, where he trembled with the cold and dampness, utterly heart-broken over his sad plight. Trying to be brave, he forced back the tears, and settled down to wait until his father should come to his rescue. Suddenly he saw a great cloud of smoke rising from one corner of his cell. It circled ’round and ’round until it disappeared into thin air, leaving behind a tiny brown elf, who stood blinking knowingly at him and nodding his head like a wise little old man. Now Tom had often heard of goblins and fairies and wished that he might know them, so he smiled at his little visitor, told him how glad he was to see him and began to relate to him the story of his misfortune. “Yes, Tom,” said the little elf, “I know all about your troubles, and because you have been a good, honest lad I am willing to grant any wish you may make.” This was jolly good luck for Tom, and he laughed to think how worried he had been a few short moments ago, and how the little brown elf had transformed all his sorrow into wonderful joy. “O dear Mr. Fairy, what I want most of all in the world is the power to become invisible,” cried Tom. “I have always wished that I could make myself invisible whenever I wanted to do so.”