"Very well, ma'am, here I am!" said Thumbling; and without being astonished at anything, he seized the axe, put it in the stout leather bag he carried over his shoulder, and gayly descended to overtake his brothers. "What marvel did Master Moonstruck see up there?" asked Paul, looking at Thumbling with a very scornful air. "It _was_ an axe that we heard," answered Thumbling, slyly. "I could have told you so beforehand," said Peter; "and here you are now, all tired out, for nothing. You had better stay with us another time." A little farther along, they came to a place where the road was hollowed with extreme difficulty out of a mass of solid rock; and here, in the distance, the brothers heard a sharp noise, like that of iron striking against stone. "It is very wonderful that anybody should be hammering away at rocks away up there!" remarked Thumbling. "Truly," said Paul, "you must have been fledged yesterday! Didn't you ever hear a woodpecker pecking at the trunk of an old tree?" "He is right," added Peter, laughing; "it must be a woodpecker. Stay with us, you foolish fellow." "It's all the same to me," answered Thumbling; "but I am very curious to see what is going on up there." So he began to climb the rocks on his hands and knees, while his two brothers trudged along, making as much fun of him as possible. When he got up to the top of the rock, which was only after a deal of hard work, what do you suppose he found there? A MAGIC PICKAXE, that, all alone by itself, was digging at the hard stone as if it were soft clay; and digging so well, that at every blow it went down more than a foot in the rock. "Good morning, Mistress Pickaxe," said Thumbling. "Doesn't it tire you to be delving alone there, hollowing away at that old rock?" "Many long years I have been waiting for you, my son," answered the pickaxe. "Very well, ma'am! here I am," replied Thumbling; and, without being astonished at anything, he seized the pick, took it off its handle, put the two pieces in the stout leather bag he carried over his shoulder, and gayly descended to overtake his brothers. "What miracle did his Worship see this time?" asked Paul, in a surly tone. "It _was_ a pickaxe that we heard," answered Thumbling, slyly; and he plodded along, without any more words. A little farther along, they came to a brook. The water was clear and fresh, and, as the travellers were thirsty, they all stopped to drink out of the hollows of their hands. "It is very wonderful," said Thumbling, "that there should be so much water in this little valley. I should like to see where this brook starts from." But to this the only answer was from Paul, who said gruffly to his brother, "We shall soon see this inquisitive fellow climbing up to Heaven, and asking questions of the angels themselves." "Very well!" says Thumbling; "it's all the same; and I am very curious to see where all this water comes from."