Dungeons of forgotten pain.

Noonday brooded on the wood,

Evening caught us ere we crept

Where a twisted pear-tree stood,

And a dwarf behind it slept;

Round his scraggy throat he wore,

Knotted tight, a scarlet scarf;

Timidly we watched him snore,

For he seemed a surly dwarf.

Yet, he looked so very small,

He could hardly hurt us much;

We were nearly twice as tall,

So we woke him with a touch

[Pg 23]

Gently, and in tones polite,

Asked him to direct our path;

O, his wrinkled eyes grew bright

Green with ugly gnomish wrath.

He seemed to choke,

And gruffly spoke,

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