Fairy CirclesTales and Legends of Giants, Dwarfs, Fairies, Water-Sprites, and Hobgoblins
to the highest battlement of the castle, and looked down longingly on the plains of their beloved Germany. All around lay wrapped in slumber. Night and peace had conquered all the cares that gnaw in daylight at the heart of man, but they had also stilled its hopes. 

"They are all asleep and dreaming," said the old Emperor, "but the morrow will come, and my people will awake and find the strife that now divides their hearts laid at rest for ever. Brave men will draw the sword and wield it victoriously. Then the minstrels will seize their harps, and the fame of our great and united Germany shall sound from the North Sea to the fair gardens of Italy. Then will our watch be over, and we shall go to our eternal rest." 

So spake the aged monarch, as he leant across the battlement to stretch his hands in blessing over his former kingdom. But when the first streak of dawn showed faintly in the east, Barbarossa and his Gela descended, the revelry ceased, the knights grasped their swords, and the glittering throng passed over court and bridge back to the heart of the mountain, while behind them the magic castle melted into mist.

The great morning has dawned; the nation has awaked; their strife is stilled. The imperial jewels, "Unity and Strength," lie no longer buried in the waves of the Seleph, the German people henceforth have them in their midst. Barbarossa may now cease his watch and enter on his rest, for from the North Sea to the plains of Italy is sounded the fame of the great united Fatherland. Thus has the aged Emperor's prophecy been fulfilled, though it was but the nation's youthful dream.

In the Tyrol, that true home of the good little dwarf-folk, is a lovely valley where in olden days a substantial farm-house stood, whose owner had come from the other side of the mountain enticed by the beauty and fertility of this favoured spot. In those days it was still possible to find good servants capable of forming a faithful attachment to their master and his household. But the farmer thought they were still better in his old home, and for this reason he generally brought his servants from the other side of the high mountain ridge. 

Spring had returned; the mountain pastures were green once more, and it was time for the herds to leave the valley; but the old herdswoman who for years had had the charge of the mountain farm, and in whose capability and conscientiousness the farmer had the fullest confidence, now took ill and died. This was a matter of some anxiety to the farmer and his household, for everything was 
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