The queen started to take the wrappings from the tiny baby, which were bound round and round about him, and the herb woman and the old king talked of the golden days gone by. The king told her the tales he had from his forefathers, of the brilliant life in the great castle; how the gnomes nestled in the soft tapestries by the great marble hearths; how they cleaned and polished the gold and precious stones in the underground chambers; how, on clear moonlight nights, they danced graceful figures with the fairies; and how, with grasshoppers as horses, they held noisy tournaments. Whenever there was a newborn baby in the castle, the gnomes, in the night, wove beautiful dreams which they spread out in the rays of the moon under the canopy of the mother's bed and guarded the baby in its silver cradle. The old lady listened happily, gazing at the gathering of the gnomes, lighted by the trembling rays of the candles, now almost burned out. Many of the young men had clambered into the branches of the tree and were swinging in the paper chains and sitting astride the golden nuts and red apples. Little girls were sliding back and forth on the slippery surface of the press, while serious old men and grayhaired women walked sedately in groups around the base of the tree. There were so many of the little people that they could not be counted. The herb woman looked at the swiftly moving, variegated crowd until her eyelids drooped. She was already half asleep when the old king came to bid her good-by and, as in a dream, she heard him say: »Honored lady, for centuries your race protected us and, today, we would like to reward you. The great treasures of your family long ago disappeared, but, in the old, choked-up well, there still remains much gold. This we have carefully guarded from generation to generation and kept in clean and good order. In the well casing, in the fifth circle of stones from the top, you will find one engraved with a horseshoe. Behind this stone, you will find the money which your forefathers hid there; but be careful to replace the stone and not to disturb our underground realm.« When the old woman awoke, all was quiet and dark in the room. The candles on the tree had quite burned out, the cuckoo in the clock called twelve, and from the village, came the sound of bells, ringing the glad tidings of Christmas Day. Across the brook, she could see the lanterns flickering in the village square and the people gathering for church. But she did not feel strong enough to go to the midnight service. Then she thought, with a smile, of what she had seen on Christmas Eve, but she said to herself with a sigh, »It was only a dream«, and took herself off to bed.