No human being was in sight and the boy could wander freely wherever he
wished. When he was in the garden he saw something which almost put him
in good humour. He had climbed a mountain-ash to eat berries, but before
he could reach a cluster he caught sight of a barberry bush, which was
also full of berries. He slid along the ash branch and clambered up into
the barberry bush, but he was no sooner there than he discovered a
currant bush, on which still hung long red clusters. Next he saw that
the garden was full of gooseberries and raspberries and dog-rose bushes;
that there were cabbages and turnips in the vegetable beds and berries
on every bush, seeds on the herbs and grain-filled ears on every blade.
And there on the path--no, of course he could not mistake it--was a big
red apple which shone in the moonlight.
The boy sat down at the side of the path, with the big red apple in
front of him, and began cutting little pieces from it with his sheath
knife.
"It wouldn't be such a serious matter to be an elf all one's life if it
were always as easy to get good food as it is here," he thought.
He sat and mused as he ate, wondering finally if it would not be as well
for him to remain here and let the wild geese travel south without him.
"I don't know for the life of me how I can ever explain to Morten
Goosey-Gander that I cannot go home," thought he.
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