She had
bravely striven to keep her fairyhood, and in the battle of wits, had
lost.
She would not be wife, but what a wise, superb and faithful servant
she made!
Everything prospered under her hand. The house and the farm became
models. Not twice, but three times a day, the cows, milked by her,
yielded milk unusually rich in cream. In the market, her butter
excelled, in quality and price, all others.
Meanwhile, the passion of the lover abated not one jot, or for an
instant. His perseverance finally won. She agreed to become his wife;
but only on one condition.
"You must never strike me with iron," she said. "If you do, I'll feel
free to leave you, and go back to my relatives in the fairy family."
A hearty laugh from the happy lover greeted this remark, made by the
lovely creature, once his servant, but now his betrothed. He thought
that the condition was very easy to obey.
So they were married, and no couple in all the land seemed to be
happier. Once, twice, the cradle was filled. It rocked with new
treasures that had life, and were more dear than farm, or home, or
wealth in barns or cattle, cheese and butter.
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