e sun came up over the hill she slipped it off
her and stood up dressed in nothing at all. She was a regular little
Venus--that's all I can say. I never could get accustomed to that
weakness of hers for slipping off her frock, though no doubt it was
very absurd. She had no sort of shame in it, so why on earth should I?

"The food, I ought to mention, had disappeared: the bowl was empty.
But I know now that Bran must have had it. So long as she remained in
the kennel or about my place she never ate anything, nor drank either.
If she had I must have known it, as I used to clean the run out every
morning. I was always particular about that. I used to say that you
couldn't keep dogs too clean. But I tried her, unsuccessfully, with
all sorts of things: flowers, honey, dew--for I had read somewhere
that fairies drink dew and suck honey out of flowers. She used to look
at the little messes I made for her, and when she knew me better
would grimace at them, and look up in my face and laugh at me.

"I have said that she used to sing sometimes. It was like nothing that
I can describe. Perhaps the wind in the telegraph wire comes nearest
to it, and yet that is an absurd comparison. I could never catch any
words; indeed I did not succeed in learning a single word of her
language. I doubt very much whether they have what we call a
language--I mean the people who are like her, her own people. They
communicate with each other, I fancy, as she did with my dogs,
inarticulately, but with perfect communication and understanding on
either side. When I began to teach her English I noticed that she had
a kind of pity for me, a kind of contempt perhaps is nearer the mark,
that I should be compelled to express myself in so clumsy a way. I am
no philosopher, but I imagine that our need of putting one word after
another may be due to our habit of thinking in sequence. If there is
no such thing as Time in the other world it should not be necessary
there to frame speech in sentences at all. I am sure that Thumbeline
(which was my name for her--I never learned her real name) spoke with
Bran and Strap in flashes which revealed her whole thought at once. So
also they answered her, there's no doubt. So also she contrived to
talk with my little girl, who, although she was four years old and a
great chatterbox, never attempted to say a single word of her own
language to Thumbeline, yet communicated with her by the hour
together. But I did not know anyth