There was old Grackel, an old tiresome bother of a man who whittled away his time, well, whittling. One day, old Grackel set off to whittle something new. So he started walking a twig-strewn, leaf covered path in the Old Forest and whittled, the shards falling down behind him. He commenced to whistle a tune, one he knew from his long-ago childhood. Soon he began to hear a second whistle coming from somewhere, but he couldn't quite tell where it was coming from, so he figured it was something in the wind and forest . . . I mean, after all, this was the Old Forest, and, alas, strange things are said to happen.

After a while, Old Grackel came to an old stump, one that he hadn’t seen before, and decided to sit down and rest – he was Old Grackel, after all. His knees hurt, arms hurt, feet hurt, alas, for that matter, everything hurt. Even his hurts hurt.

As he sat, his eyes slowly began to droop. His chin finally hit his chest gently and he was fast asleep, snoring away. He dreamed he was still sitting on the old stump, whittling away. He heard the other whistling again, so he looked around. He could just catch some movement close by, but the movement was in different places – in front, to both sides. But he couldn't get any clear sight of whomever or whatever it was.

Then, suddenly, coming from around the bend in front of him, one of the Little People appeared, one about 3 feet tall and dressed in the strangest clothes. To top off everything, the Little Person wore a green hat that had a red dragon etched into it.

Old Grackel looked a little surprised, his jaw hanging just a bit. There, right in front of him, was a Little Person, who looked right back at Old Grackel and blinked, cocking his head to one side.

“Who are you?” the Little Person asked.

“Why, I'm Old Grackel. Been walking through this forest for many a year.”

“I'm on my way to the Celebration. You wish to join me?” His voice sounded rather young even though he had a beard.

Old Grackel stroked his long gray beard and nodded his head. “Yes, a good break from whittling.”

The Little Person led Old Grackel on down the forest path for what seemed to him to be several hours, but it was, alas, only a little while. The path wound around trees and bushes and other odd looking forest things, some of which blinked at Old Grackel and scurried off into the underbrush.

At last, they came to a big tree, one that was at least two or three people wide and who knows how tall. The tree had great big gaping hole in its base, and the Little Person just walked in just as though this were normal. Old Grackel looked just a bit surprised, but he continued walking in.

The path in the tree was dark, and it felt, alas, clammy and musty. The Little Person seemed to know his way around in the tree.

After a bit, Old Grackel could see some light at the end and could hear singing. As they got closer, Old Grackel could also see some Little People dancing around, having a merry old time. Just before they entered, Old Grackel and the Little Person came across the Gate-Keeper.

Now the Gate-Keeper stopped Old Grackel before he went in and, looking up at him, told Old Grackel that he could not enter.

“How do I get in, then?” Old Grackel cackled.

The Gate-Keeper, his head as far back it could go, eyed him cautiously and said, “You will need to become one of us – The Little People.”

Alas, Old Grackel glanced at his whittling (which he still carried with him), and took on a kind of a dreamy look in his eyes. He remembered all the fun and joy he had as a youngster. He gave a look at the Little Person who was still standing next to him and turned his head just to the side as he looked back at the Gate-Keeper.

“I'll do it! A chance to be young again!” He smiled and even laid his whittling down.

The Gate-Keeper looked up at Old Grackel again, his eyes bigger and rounder. He raised his arms high in the air and said a few words that Old Grackel didn't understand. The Gate-Keeper then closed Old Grackel's eyes with one hand, snapped his fingers with the other and Old Grackel opened his eyes.

Poof! He was little! He was about 3 feet tall and wearing the strangest of clothes. Touching the top of his head, he realized that he was wearing some kind of hat. He took it off and glanced at it -- green with a red dragon drawn into it.

Little Grackel and the Little Person both entered the celebration and got drinking mugs filled to the full. They danced away the hours that seemed to turn into days. They ate all the finest foods, meats, breads, cheeses, and a few other morsels Little Grackel didn't know about.

At the end of the Celebration, Little Grackel decided to go for a walk to walk off all the food. He went down a winding path that seemed to wind on forever. He began to hear some whistling, so he started looking around, moving from tree to tree to try to find the whistler. Even Little Grackel starting whistling some.

As he came around a bend in the forest path, he saw the whistler, an old man, sitting on a tree stump, whittling. He stopped in the path and blinked, cocking his head to one side. The two exchanged glances, the old man a little surprised.

“Who are you?” he asked.