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“Them’s thum,” was the sophisticated answer. St. Elmo hung back, electing to stay with the hero who had rescued him from the dangers of the wood. “Golly! They’re working all night. I—ought to—help—to-morrow. I—” He slept again with his good resolution half made. Flora came into view, clad in palest pink, and wreathed with almond blossoms. Wherever she stepped the ground was white with almond snow. Gnomes and elves peeped from behind gray rocks and tree-trunks, but fled as she came near, following the ever-beckoning fairies..