He found him resting on a bank of fern-moss, and told him that he wanted him to make the gardener dream such dreams as would make that lazy fellow do the work of his life. “I don’t know how you are going to do it,” said the flower-elf, “but it will have to be done.” “Leave that to me,” said Slumber, “for I am sure I can manage it. Think of the bluebirds’ feathers and doubt not.” “I trust you entirely,” said the flower-elf, “and I know that all will be well. “But now I must go and see where the best honeydew is to be found. And while I am testing the honeydew I will just make a note of the nuts and fruits that I happen to see.” So saying he departed waving his hand in adieu. Lightning went to the Dwarfs of Cavedale and ordered a thousand lanterns of filigree silver. Tono trained his choir and orchestra so that he would be prepared if the King should ask him to sing or play. Rhymo made verses all night long, for he did not want to be caught napping if the King should ask him for one of his poems. Rainbow was carefully planning the details, and every one came to him for advice. When the gardener had gone to bed for the night, Slumber entered his cottage noiselessly, softly entered his sleeping-room, and gently beat on the drum of his ear. And the gardener dreamed and dreamed. He thought he was on a desert plain, and he was very thirsty--so thirsty that he did not care for anything in the world but _water_. His throat was parched; the sky was red; the grass was brown; the sun was scorching! And there was not a drop of water in sight! There were no clouds in the sky to bring rain, nor a sign of moisture anywhere! Just as he thought he could stand it no longer, a frightful hobgoblin with black wings and piercing eyes came hovering over him, and cried in a voice of thunder: “You’re thirsty, are you?” “‘Thirsty,’” sighed the gardener, “I’m dying of thirst!” “Go first and water the flowers; then you may drink,” said the goblin, as he flew up in the air uttering a horrid shriek. But the gardener dreamed again: this time he was starving; and there was not a scrap of food in sight, not even a grain of corn to satisfy his gnawing hunger. And when he thought he could stand it no longer, the same frightful hobgoblin came flying toward him, and flapped its great wings and cried: “You’re hungry, are you?” “So hungry that I’m fainting,” whispered the gardener. “Go first and feed your plants, and then you may eat,” said the goblin. Then away he flew and left him alone as before. But the gardener dreamed still again, and this time he thought he was in his own cottage. The walls of the cottage began to shrink; and the tables and chairs and everything else in the room began to move toward him. The windows shut of themselves; the shades rolled down; the air grew close and stifling. And he couldn’t escape, for just as soon as he moved one chair away, another one took its place.