Most fairies like to keep on
doing the same thing in the old way. They enjoy being like the
mountains, which stand; or the sea, that rolls; or the sun, that rises
and sets every day and forever. They never get tired of repeating
to-morrow what they did yesterday. They are very different from the
people that are always wanting something else, and even cry if they
cannot have it.
That is the reason why the fairies did not like iron, or to see men
wearing iron hats and clothes, called helmets and armor, when they
went to war. They no more wanted to be touched by iron than by filth,
or foul disease. They hated knives, stirrups, scythes, swords, pots,
pans, kettles, or this metal in any form, whether sheet, barbed wire,
lump or pig iron.
Now there was a long, pretty stretch of water, near which lived a
handsome lad, who loved nothing better than to go out on moonlight
nights and see the fairies dance, or listen to their music. This youth
fell in love with one of these fairies, whose beauty was great beyond
description. At last, unable to control his passion, he rushed into
the midst of the fairy company, seized the beautiful one, and rushed
back to his home, with his prize in his arms.
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