The animals stood trembling with their sides heaved, taking long, ragged breaths from their struggle to keep up with the mining cart.  Rosa got up and beat at her clothing.  “It’s sure hard to keep clothes clean in this wish.”  She glared at Llywarch.

He pretended not to hear as he sat up, lifted the hem of his robe, and plucked a thread to retie his beard.  Then he punched his hand through his hat to reshape it before placing it back on his head.

“Thieves!” shouted the dwarfs, shaking their fists.  Then they started to cough and sputter as the rest got up and swatted at their clothing.

“What do you mean thieves?”  Randolph glared at them, happy to find an outlet for his frustration.  “What have we stolen?”  As he swatted his shirt, his list popped out and dropped to the ground.

The oldest-looking dwarf, with salt and pepper in his hair and beard, pointed at the ground.

“The diamonds,” responded Chris.  “Those just fell in the cart; we didn’t steal them.  Honest!  And we don’t have any hidden.  You can search us.”

“Diamonds!”   The dwarfs laughed.  It was a raucous, derisive chorus of hoots and hollers, snickers, and not quite polite expressions of disbelieve.  There were several spits and one long wiping of a nose on a sleeve.  “Ouch!  Blasted button!” could be heard.  Mimi looked at the nose with interest.

The first dwarf continued, “What would we want with them?  We’ve more than we can use.  You were stealing that!”

They were astonished to learn they were accused of stealing the lump of coal.

“What are diamonds, but coal that’s gone bad?  And you’re covered in its dust.  Do you think you can walk away and take that with you?”

“We’ll gladly leave it,” said Rosa, as she gave up on her dress.  “How do you suggest we do that?”  She folded her arms and glared at the dwarfs.

Here the dwarfs were stumped.  Then…  “Irving!” they shouted with glee.

“Who’s Irving?” asked Mimi.  “Are there more of you?”

“There’re eight of us, all siblings.  We’re miners, but Irving prefers to stay at home and experiment.”  The others nodded.  “Not much of a miner, anyway.”

“Too small,” the youngest informed them.  His beard was a mere wisp, but all the dwarfs wore them.

“Irving’s an alchemist.” the oldest continued, “who’s trying to find a way to change our diamonds back to coal.

“You want diamonds changed back into coal?” Mimi asked, incredulously.

“If not, we’ll have to look for work.  But Irving can mix anything,” they all agreed.

“I can make eggnog,” one of the dwarfs added.

“Do you use nutmeg?” Gretel asked.

“Do you add alcohol?” Rosa wondered.

“I like a little mint in mine,” Hombre added.

 “And Irving’s bound to have something to get dust out of clothing,” the oldest continued.

“I think we should string them up by their thumbs, and beat it off of them,” suggested a muscular dwarf with tattoos on his arms and a tool belt around his waist.  It dragged at his pants causing part of his backside to be exposed.  Other than that, he was neat with a trim beard and a crew cut

Randolph doubled his fists and made a movement forward, but Gretel stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Speaking of thumbs,” said a sharply dressed dwarf - the only one with curlers in his beard.  “That’s a marvelous color you have on your hands and feet.”  He asked Llywarch, “Is that blackberry juice?  I use rose petals myself.”  And he held out a pair of hands with the nails freshly stained red.

“Er…nice,” Llywarch responded, and took a step backward.

All of the dwarfs were adequately dressed except their pants dragged about an inch on the ground, and most had dirty hands and fingernails.

“Let me understand this,” said Hansel.  “You are dwarfs who are coal miners.”

To his surprise, they denied it.  “NO!  …We’re not dwarfs.  We’re Brownies.”

“What are Brownies?” Chris asked his uncle.

“According to this pecan,” Llywarch answered, “Brownies are little girls who sell cookies.”

“I don’t see any cookies.”

“What I think would make a good cookie is combination of chocolate and mint,” said Hombre.  Rosa and Gretel concurred.

“We don’t have to be little girls, do we?” the youngest dwarf asked.  “If that’s what Brownies are, I’d rather stay a dwarf.”

“Hush!” the oldest told him.  “That is not what a Brownie is.  I looked it up in a book.”

“Ouch!” said Gretel.  “Someone pinched me.”

All the dwarfs looked innocent, although the one with a pony tail and a scraggly beard, playing with a pair of dice, appeared to have fresh coal marks between his thumb and forefinger.

“Perhaps I can help,” said Mimi.  “If I remember right, the Black Forest Brownies are elves that hide during the daytime and come out at night to clean houses and to make shoes.”

The oldest dwarf sighed in relief, “I thought I had it right.”

But the others were not pleased.  “You didn’t say we’d have to clean houses,” said the one with the tool belt.

“If we work at night, when will we get to watch the Ooba-Ooba sisters?” asked another.

 “I wouldn’t mind making shoes,” admitted the one with curlers.  “Can we make them with high heels?”  And he tugged his pant leg out of the dirt.

“Hush!” the oldest repeated.  “We’ll discuss this later…among ourselves.”

But Rosa pressed it, “Why are you pretending to be elves?”

The dwarfs hemmed and hawed.  They were blushing under their beards.  The flush extended to their chests, which were visible under the leather ties of their shirts.

“Oh well,” said the oldest.  “You might as well know.  We want to be elves to impress the Ooba-Ooba sisters.”

“We’re afraid they don’t like dwarfs,” the youngest explained.

“What’s wrong with being a dwarf?” said Hombre, shouldering his way to the front of the group.

“Yes!” added Rosa.  “What’s wrong with being a dwarf?  One of my best friends is a dwarf.”

“Really?” asked Hombre.  “Who?”

Rosa rolled her eyes.  “You, you idiot!”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“Who are the Ooba-Ooba sisters?” asked Mimi.

“We don’t know exactly,” came the replied.

“We think they’re French, but we don’t understand their language,” said another.  “We like to hide in the bushes at night and watch them dance in the meadow.”

“They’re always singing ‘Ooba-Ooba’,” added the youngest.

“So that’s what we call them,” the oldest explained.  “We’d like to know them better, but whenever we get near, they run away.”

“Well!  If we have to clean houses at night, we’ll never get the chance.” complained the one with the tool belt.

Christopher and Llywarch whispered together.  Then Chris turned to the dwarfs and said, “Perhaps we can help, if you are willing to forget about our…er…attraction… to this coal dust.”

The dwarfs held a huddle.  “I still say they are thieves” said one.

“Might be worth it,” said another.  “The Ooba-Ooba sisters are really hot!”  The rest agreed.  So the huddle broke up and the dwarfs shook hands to confirm the deal.

 “What can you do?” asked the oldest.

“First, won’t you tell us your names?” asked Gretel.

 “We don’t have names,” said the youngest.  “We have numbers.”

The others agreed.  “Except Irving.”

“Irving’s name is George,” the youngest informed her

“But I thought it was Irving.”

“Oh no, the name is George.  George likes to be called Irving, because it sounds more scientific.”  The others agreed.

“Are you numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7?” Mimi asked.

“No,” replied the oldest, puzzled.  “Why should we be?”

“No reason, I supposed,” said Mimi.  “I was just guessing.”

“You can call me Thirty-nine,” he said.

“He’s a prime one,” said the youngest.

“Not really,” Thirty-nine responded.  “I’m divisible by 13.  This is Naught…as in…not always right.”

“I’m not some things,” Naught admitted.

 “This is Ten,” continued Thirty-nine, pointing out the nappy dwarf who, having removed his curlers, was fluffing his beard.

“He thinks he’s perfect,” Naught whispered so everybody could hear.  “And that is Three-point-one-four-seven.  But for some reason he likes to be called Pi.”  This was the one in the tool belt.

“Pi is non-repeating decimal,” he informed them

“I’ve had pie repeat on me,” insisted Naught.

Thirty-nine continued.  “This is Negative-one.”  This was the happy, smiling dwarf.

“And this is Seven, also known as ‘Lucky’.”  Lucky was the disreputable looking dwarf, with fresh coal marks on his fingers and a pair of dice.

“He looks interesting.” Gretel and Rosa agreed.  Gretel rubbed where she’d been pinched.

 “And last, this is Five Hundred and Twelve, or Fourteen, or Sixty-two, or Eight, or One Hundred and Fifty-seven.  It is hard to say.  He’s a random number.”

“Just call me Seven Hundred and Thirty-six,” Random offered.

“How can you help us with the Ooba-Ooba sisters?” asked Thirty-nine.

“Not us” Chris said, pointing to Llywarch.  “Uncle Larry can.  He provides a service.”

The dwarfs looked thrilled.  “That’s wonderful,” Thirty-nine said, “We thought we’d have to meet them before we married them.”

 “No,” explained Chris.  “Uncle Larry doesn’t provide that kind of service.  He’s a wizard who grants wishes.”

“But we wish to be married,” said Negative-one.

Chris explained Llywarch’s purpose.

“So if we’re kind to him,” Thirty-nine repeated for his understanding, “or if we’re kind to Chris, or to Chevy - who are all family - we can earn one wish apiece.  Plus…he translates for people who speak different languages when they get within fifty-feet of him…Does that mean we have to get close enough to the sisters to talk to them?”

“I like our old way better," said Negative-one.

“What’s that?” asked Rosa.

“We hide in the bushes and throw coal at them,” explained Naught.

“That the most expensive thing we have,” Thirty-nine explained to the stunned silence.  “Surely they understand that.”

Three feminine snorts expressed disbelief.

“Well, we can’t throw diamonds.  That’d be an insult!  Besides, they hurt.  Did you know diamonds can cut glass?”

First Mimi whispered to Hansel to go the oxcart and making sure that her window was cover.  Then she took charge.  “It looks like you need more than a translator.  You need dance and deportment lessons.  In fact, until we teach you how to behave, it might be better if these sisters didn’t understand you.   And maybe some others can learn in the process.”  She looked at Randolph and Chris.  “Besides, when you fall in love you won’t need a translator.  Your hearts will speak for you.”  She smiled at Hansel.

“It won’t be easy,” she warned, “but it’ll be worth it.  You must learn to be polite and attentive.  You should start by bringing the sisters flowers and candy, and other gifts.”

“You may find that they like diamonds,” Gretel suggested.  “But hand them to them.  Better yet attached them to rings or necklaces.”

Rosa agreed.  “And you should dress as nicely as you can.  You will need to bathe and brush your teeth, clean under your fingernails, comb your hair, and polish your boots.”

“And you have to be interested in their inner selves, not just their looks.” Mimi continued.  “Ask them how their day went.  Listen to them.  Help them with the dishes and other chores.  Do you think you can do all that?”

The dwarfs huddled again briefly, and then separated.  “Couldn’t we just use magic?” they begged.

The women rolled their eyes.  “Come,” said Mimi.  “Take us to Irving.”

“Wait!  What’s this?”   Thirty-nine bent over and picked up Randolph’s list.  He read, “Twenty…twenty-one…sixteen…why these are all friends of ours.  And look here’s eleven.”  Eleven was the count of an unfortunate pirate who had suffered a mishap with a cannon ball.  “This is one of Lucky’s friends.”

“Eleven is named after two bachelor uncles,” Lucky informed them. 

Mimi, Gretel, and Rosa groaned.  “… and both of them were named ‘One’.”

“Hey!  That’s mine!” demanded Randolph.  “Give that back!”

“No, I think not” replied Thirty-nine.  “We’re keeping it until you keep your promise to help us with the Ooba-Ooba sisters.”  And he stuffed the list inside his pocket.

“I hate people who take things that don’t belong to them,” Randolph muttered to Gretel.

The trek to the dwarfs’ house was a short but beautiful walk through the Black Forest.  Forest animals with large soulful eyes watched them from behind trees and thick green foliage.  Birds flew above them singing.  Butterflies flitted from flower to flower.  The warm sun shone down, while a soft breeze kept them comfortable.

 “My home is in Oberdonau on the other side of the Black Forest, on the Danube River - and near Mearchland, where the fairies live,” Gretel told Randolph, as they walked together.  She stopped to smell a flower, “I’ve always loved plants and trees.  I have flowers in my garden that I care for and nurture.  I don’t let any thing harm them.  Do you feel that way?”

Randolph remembering his attack on the foliage in the Alps replied, “Er…yes.  I have always loved flowers.”

“I am so glad that Llywarch’s near so I can understand you.  Imagine how awful it would be to love someone, and not have them understand you.”

I don’t have to imagine, Randolph thought.

“I lost the mime’s glove again.”

Randolph started to pull it out of his pocket and give it to her.

“Rosa says I should check Chris’s pockets, but I don’t want to.  It would be horrible to find out that he was a glove thief, and I don’t want to hurt Rosa.  I don’t think I could forgive a glove thief, so I prefer to believe I lost it in the mine.”

Randolph shoved the glove down deeper.

Rosa and Chris were arguing again.

“I think you could understand me in that tunnel.”

Rosa’s cheeks blushed.  “What’s to understand?  You are a boorish simpleton who is rude, disobedient, not at all funny, and you steal things!”

“WHAT!  What have I stolen?”

“You stole Gretel’s glove.”

“I did not!  I told you that before.”

“When?”

“When we were in the mine.”

“How could I possibly have understood you if Larry wasn’t around?  Did you know the glove is missing again?”

“Well, I didn’t take it.  You can search me.”  To prove it, Chris turned his pockets inside out and Rosa’s scarf tumbled to the ground.

The dwarfs’ house turned out to be in a giant oak tree.

“Oh no!” said the travelers.

“What do you mean?” asked Thirty-nine.  “We think it is a wonderful home.”

.  “I remodeled it myself,” said Pi indignantly.

‘Welcome,” said the tree.

“I wonder if it really means that,” Rosa whispered to Chris.

“We don’t mean to offend you,” Hansel assured them.  “It is just that we recently had a run in with a lying oak.”

“Some trees are like that,” agreed Negative-one.

Gretel gasped when the door was opened by the Wicked Witch from the Gingerbread House.  “It’s you,” she said.

“So, you know our housekeeper,” said Thirty-nine.  “That’s splendid.  These people will need baths, while Irving finds a way to get the dust out of their clothes.”

“What are you doing here?” demanded Hansel.

“I needed to find a place to live after you children ate my house.”

“Did you eat her house?” asked Random.

“A little,” admitted Gretel.  ”We were very young.”

“There will be no chewing on things while you’re guests here,” Pi informed them.

“But she eats children,” Hansel told the dwarfs.

“That’s no excuse.  You eat only what’s served to you.”

“Eat one little red-headed girl,” the witch complained, “and nobody ever lets you forget it.  Come in.  Come in.  Wipe your boots, and don’t shake that dust.”  She hurried off to get things ready.

The dwarfs were impressed when Randolph and Llywarch hit their heads upon entering the doorway, Llywarch’s hat falling behind him.  Several jumped as they entered, to see if they could bump the top frame, but failed.  Inside the tree was surprisingly roomy.  It had a large and spacious hollow trunk with a high ceiling.  Branches ran off in all directions creating halls to the different parts of the house.  Rushes were strewn on the floor with loose diamonds mixed in.  Their sparkle gave light to the room.

“I’m glad we found some use for them,” explained Thirty-nine.  “And when the room needs cleaning, we just throw them out with the weeds.”

Dozens of tapestries on the walls attested to the fact that the dwarfs’ favorite color was orange.

“I think I prefer blue," said Mimi.

“Or red,” suggested Rosa.

“Oh dear,” said Gretel, shading her eyes.

“We have a guest oak out back,” said Thirty-nine.  “That’s were you’ll be staying.”

“You’re not to chew on things back there, either,” Pi informed them.

But first they went to the basement where they found two large caldrons of bath water heating over open fires.  A blanket strung between them from two dangling roots divided the room for modesty.  They left their clothes on the floor to be collected by the witch.

When she returned from taking the clothing to Irving, the witch was carrying a bushel basket under each arm.  She emptied one into each caldron.

“Ah, soap,” said the girls, as they grabbed for the floating objects.

“This looks like a potato,” said Mimi.

“I have a carrot,” came from Gretel.

“Are onions considered cleansing agents?” asked Rosa, as her eyes teared up.

They began to worry, especially when the witch added salt and pepper, and gave the caldron a quick stir with a wooden spoon the size of an oar.

On the other side of the blanket, the men were racing the potatoes, prodding them with carrots.  The onions were simply tossed out.  “Plaguey things,” said Randolph.  “I only like them in meatloaf.”

Steam was starting to rise.  The women were getting extremely worried when the door to the basement burst open.  A young girl with short brown hair, dangling earrings, and large glasses, rushed in with a bottle of seltzer water.  She sprayed the flames until both fires were put out.

“What was that?” asked Chevy, from neck deep in the caldron where the men had ducked.

“Carbonized water.  It occurs naturally near coal deposits,” the girl replied, pushing her glasses up her nose, magnifying eyes that were already big.  Chevy noticed they were a beautiful brown color.  “But the way our deposits are disappearing, it won’t be long before we run out this, too.  Hi,” she added.  “I am Irving.”  Irving, while slender, wasn’t really small.  In fact, she was taller than her brothers

She ran out, but soon returned with their clothing.  She waited with her back turned until everyone was dressed.  Randolph was relieved to find the glove still in his pocket.

“These are so clean,” said the women.  “How did you do it?”

‘I used a little something I created that I call ‘bluing’.”

“It really works,” said Gretel, as she sniffed her apron.

“I was glad to find a use for it.  It tastes awful on waffles.”

“Look how bright it makes my scarf look,” added Rosa.

“I thought you lost that,” said Mimi.

Christopher blushed and changed the subject, as he pulled a carrot out of his ear.  “What was that witch up to anyway?”

 “You’ll have to pardon her,” Irving said.  “Old habits are hard to break.  It looks like we’re having vegetable soup again for dinner.”  She took the carrot from Chris and tossed it back into the caldron.  Then she picked up the spoon and gave one quick stir.

“Excuse me, but is your name really George?” asked Chevy.  “How old are you.”

“I’m fourteen, and it’s really Georgette,” she answered, as she turned those eyes on him.  Chevy felt his knees grow week.  “I’ll suppose Naught got it wrong, didn’t he?”

“No.  No.” everybody denied.  “We must not have heard clearly.”

The witch came back and scowled at the meatless caldrons.  Then she turned and asked, “I don’t suppose your animals need a bath, do they?”

“Have you met our housekeeper?” asked Irving.  “She is named after two maiden aunts.”

“Is her name Maria Maria?” asked the women, “or Mimi, or Fifi, or Lulu?”

“No.” Irving looked puzzled.  “It’s Helga-Aberdeen.”

“You can call me Ma’am,” the witch informed them.

Dinner was in the main trunk, where a split log table was set with bowls of soup and plates of gingerbread slathered with butter.

“That’s the only bread I know how to bake,” Helga-Aberdeen explained.

“This soup is interesting,” exclaimed Hombre, slurping noisily, “although it could use more onions…and it has kind of a coal taste.”

Mimi, Rosa, and Gretel just nibbled on cookies and sipped tea from beer steins.

“This is a lovely house,” Mimi said to be polite.

It certainly was a noisy one.  The house was a collection of its inhabitants’ interests.  Dozens of coo-coo clocks hung ticking on the walls.  “I carved them myself,” said Random.  “But I haven’t learned to tell time, yet.”  This explained why a different clock sounded every few minutes.

“They are very nice, Seven Hundred and Thirty-six," said Rosa

“Please call me Eighty-four,” he replied.

“I made the tapestries,” said Ten.

There were lots of books and parchments.  An entire wall was devoted to storing them on sturdy shelves.

“I collect antique books,” Thirty-nine said proudly.  In truth, this was a little difficult, since books had only recently been invented.  “I’ve read them all.”

“I made the bookshelves,” added Pi

“He made me craps table,” said Lucky.  “Would anyone care for a game after dinner?”  He leered at Gretel, who smiled and blushed.

Randolph clenched the handle of the stein he was holding and glared at the dwarf.

A beautiful butterfly flew in and tried to land on a cookie, but it slipped in the butter and skidded on its backside across the table.

“I collect them,” Naught explained, picking it up and carefully wiping its bottom.  “But I can’t bear to stick pins in them, so I let them fly free.”  As if on cue, hundreds of butterflies darted out of a passage and settled about the room, including on people’s heads and shoulders.  The sparkle from the diamonds reflecting against the brilliant colors of the butterflies, surrounded by the orange tapestries gave the room a dazzling affect.

“Someday I imagine a casino could glow like that,” Lucky told them

“What about you, Negative-one?” asked Gretel.  “What’s your hobby?”

Negative-one smiled, “I’m a beekeeper.  I have a strain of ferocious ones.”

“I’ll say,” said Thirty-nine.  “Those are the meanest bees I have ever seen.”

“They have huge stingers,” Naught added.  “But I don’t like them.”

The travelers did not need to be told about the stingers.  They’d all been attacked before Hombre’s wish did away with them.

 “We keep them in the mine,” Thirty-nine told them, “to guard the coal.  If Irving can’t find a way to change diamonds back to coal, we’re thinking of starting a business renting them as guard bees.”

 “I like the idea cleaning houses and making shoes,” said Ten.

“If more people knew how to tell time, we could sell clocks,” sighed Random.

“Now,” said Thirty-nine, “we’ve discussed this before and decided that if we can’t mine coal, guard bees are our next business.”

The guests around the table exchanged looks.  Hombre’s wish had ruined that possibility.  They had to tell them.

“Er…there is something we need to tell you,” Hansel started.

But Naught piped up, “I don’t care if it does ruin the business.  I wish I could rid them of their stingers.  Then they would be more like butterflies.”

Chris grinned and winked at his uncle.  The rest took up the cue

 “Huh…could you please pass me the salt?” Llywarch asked Naught.

When he did so, Llywarch said, “Thank you.  That was kind.  Wait!  I think I hear bluebells ringing”

“Whoosh,” said Chris and Chevy together.

Hansel struck his flint several times.  The sparks bouncing off the diamonds in the floor looked just like lightning.

“Rumble!  Rumble!  Rumble!” muttered Hombre.

 “Egad!” said Llywarch.  “I think you’ve got your wish!”