t the great beast with you hurt me?"

The sprite shook his head no, and the firefly believed him.

The sprite now took a leaf and wrapped himself in it; the gleam
of his white garments was completely hidden. Then he picked a
little bluebell from the grass and put it on his shining head
like a helmet. The only bit of him left exposed was his face,
which was so small that surely no one would notice it. He asked
the firefly to perch on his shoulder and with its wing to dim
its lamp on the one side so as to keep the dazzle out of his
eyes.

"Come now," he said, taking Maya's hand. "We had better climb up
right here."

The little bee was thinking of something the sprite had said,
and as they clambered up the vine, she asked:

"Do human beings dream when they sleep?"

"Not only then. They dream sometimes even when they are awake.
They sit with their bodies a little limp, their heads bent a
little forward, and their eyes searching the distance, as if to
see into the very heavens. Their dreams are always lovelier than
life. That's why we appear to them in their dreams."

The sprite now laid his tiny finger on his lips, bent aside a
small blooming sprig of jasmine, and gently pushed Maya ahead.

"Look down," he said softly, "you'll see what you have been
wishing to see."

The little bee looked and saw two human beings sitting on a
bench in the shadows cast by the moonlight--a boy and a girl,
the girl with her head leaning on the boy's shoulder, and the
boy holding his arm around the girl as if to protect her. They
sat in complete stillness, looking wide-eyed into the night.
It was as quiet as if they had both gone to sleep. Only from a
distance came the chirping of the crickets, and slowly, slowly
the moonlight drifted through the leaves.

Maya, transported out of herself, gazed into the girl's face.
Although it looked pale and wistful, it seemed to be transfused
by the hidden radiance of a great happiness. Above her large
eyes lay golden hair, like the golden hair of the sprite, and
upon it rested the heavenly sheen of the midsummer night. From
her red lips, slightly parted, came a breath of rapture and
melancholy, as if she wanted to offer everything that was hers
to the man by her side for his happiness.

And now she turned to him, pulled his head down, and whispered a
magical something that brought a smile to his face such as Maya
thought no earthly being could wear. In his eyes gleamed a
happiness and a vig