‘But who can these strangers be?’ exclaimed all the lizards with one voice. ‘What can be in the wind? Only listen!--what buzzing and humming!’ Just then the Elfin-mount parted asunder; and an elderly Elfin damsel came tripping out--she was the old Elfin-King’s housekeeper, and distantly related to his family, on which account she wore an amber heart on her forehead, but was otherwise plainly dressed. Like all other elves, she was hollow in the back. She was very quick and light-footed; trip--trip--trip, away she ran, straight into the marsh, to the night-raven. ‘You are invited to Elfin-mount, for this very evening,’ said she; ‘but will you not first do us a very great kindness, and be the bearer of the other invitations? You do not keep house, yourself, you know; so you can easily oblige us. We are expecting some very distinguished strangers, Trolds in fact; and his Elfin Majesty intends to welcome them in person.’ ‘Who are to be invited?’ inquired the night-raven. ‘Why, to the grand ball all the world may come; even men, if they could but talk in their sleep, or do a little bit of anything in our way. But the first banquet must be very select; none but guests of the very highest rank must be present. To say the truth, I and the King have been having a little dispute; for I insist, that not even ghosts may be admitted to-night. The Mer-King and his daughters must be invited first; they don’t much like coming on land, but I’ll promise they shall each have a wet stone, or, perhaps, something better still, to sit on; and then, I think, they cannot possibly refuse us this time. All old Trolds of the first rank we must have; also, the River-Spirit and the Nisses; and, I fancy, we cannot pass over the Death-Horse and Kirkegrim; true, they do not belong to our set, they are too solemn for us, but they are connected with the family, and pay us regular visits.’ ‘Caw!’ said the night-raven; and away he flew to bear the invitations. The Elfin-maidens were still dancing in the Elfin-mount; they danced with long scarfs woven from mist and moonlight, and for those who like that sort of thing it looks pretty enough. The large state-room in the Mount had been regularly cleaned and cleared out; the floor had been washed with moonshine, and the walls rubbed with witches’ fat till they shone as tulips do when held up to the light. In the kitchen, frogs were roasting on the spit; while divers other choice dishes, such as mushroom seed, hemlock soup, etc., were prepared or preparing. These were to supply the first courses; rusty nails, bits of coloured glass, and such like dainties, were to come in for the dessert; there was also bright saltpetre wine, and ale brewed in the brewery of the Wise Witch of the Moor. The old Elfin-King’s gold crown had been fresh rubbed with powdered slate-pencil; new curtains had been hung up in all the sleeping-rooms,--yes, there was indeed a rare bustle and commotion.