But though I told them who I was, they were too shy to talk, and scattered the blossom on my upturned face, when I tried to coax them. A fat brown thrush scolded me for disturbing her babies at their breakfast, and fluttered round me, beating her wings, until I moved away, when the Elves seemed to be as pleased as she was, for they wanted to be left to themselves. On the opposite side of the orchard was a bank of moss, and I strolled across and sat down in a little hollow. The moss was soft as velvet, and through the boughs of a pear tree, laden with bloom, I could see the gate to the farm-yard. A speckled hen was the only creature in sight, and it amused me to watch how daintily she pecked this side and that. All at once there came an excited chorus of "_Cluck-Cluck-Cluck!_" and it seemed as if every fowl in the place were trying to go through the gate. They were led by a fine young cock, with beautifully bright green head feathers. Once he was safely through, he perched himself on an empty pail, and crowed indignantly. "_Cock-adoodle-do-oo!_" mocked a voice behind him, and a little boy in a red cap gave him a box on the ears which sent him flying. "That bird thinks twice too much of himself," he grinned, as he ran to me over the grass. "Who am I? Why, _Nain Rouge_ of Normandy, first cousin to Puck and Robin Goodfellow across the water." He had twinkling eyes that were never still, and a roguish face. I knew I was going to like him immensely, so I showed him my new knife and said he might whittle his stick if he'd promise to give it back to me. _Nain Rouge_ felt both blades with a small brown finger, and said they were too blunt for him. "Blunt?" I cried. "Why, they're as sharp as sharp can be! Just see!" But when I tried to show him how sharp they were, neither would cut at all. I was so surprised that I hadn't a word to say, and _Nain Rouge_ doubled himself in two with laughter. "Never mind," he gasped, when he could speak, "I'll make them all right for you." He touched them again, twisting his tongue round the corner of his mouth, and screwing his eyes up comically. "Now cut!" he said, and when I found they were as sharp as ever, I shut up the blades, and put the knife back into my pocket. I was glad I had left my watch in the house, for _Nain Rouge_ might have tried to play tricks with that. "Another name I go by is the 'Lutin,'" he said, throwing himself on the ground beside me. "When I have nothing better to do, I _lutine_, or twist, the horses' manes. One summer afternoon two lazy maids fell fast asleep in the hay loft, when they ought to have been down with the reapers in the long field. I _lutined_ their hair so nicely for them that when they woke they could not untwist it, and had to cut it off! The House Spirits made rather a fuss, for those girls were pets of theirs, but Abundia, Queen of the Fées and Lutins, said I had done quite right. We can't bear laziness, you know, for we're always busy ourselves."