This was Ripple's only grief, and she often thought of those who
sorrowed for the friends they loved, who now slept far down in the dim
and silent coral caves, and gladly would she have saved the lives
of those who lay around her; but the great ocean was far mightier than
all the tender-hearted Spirits dwelling in its bosom. Thus she could
only weep for them, and lay them down to sleep where no cruel waves
could harm them more.

One day, when a fearful storm raged far and wide, and the Spirits saw
great billows rolling like heavy clouds above their heads, and heard
the wild winds sounding far away, down through the foaming waves
a little child came floating to their home; its eyes were closed as if
in sleep, the long hair fell like sea-weed round its pale, cold face,
and the little hands still clasped the shells they had been gathering
on the beach, when the great waves swept it into the troubled sea.

With tender tears the Spirits laid the little form to rest upon its
bed of flowers, and, singing mournful songs, as if to make its sleep
more calm and deep, watched long and lovingly above it, till the storm
had died away, and all was still again.

While Ripple sang above the little child, through the distant roar
of winds and waves she heard a wild, sorrowing voice, that seemed to
call for help. Long she listened, thinking it was but the echo of
their own plaintive song, but high above the music still sounded
the sad, wailing cry. Then, stealing silently away, she glided up
through foam and spray, till, through the parting clouds, the sunlight
shone upon her from the tranquil sky; and, guided by the mournful
sound, she floated on, till, close before her on the beach, she saw
a woman stretching forth her arms, and with a sad, imploring voice
praying the restless sea to give her back the little child it had
so cruelly borne away. But the waves dashed foaming up among the
bare rocks at her feet, mingling their cold spray with her tears,
and gave no answer to her prayer.

When Ripple saw the mother's grief, she longed to comfort her;
so, bending tenderly beside her, where she knelt upon the shore,
the little Spirit told her how her child lay softly sleeping, far down
in a lovely place, where sorrowing tears were shed, and gentle hands
laid garlands over him. But all in vain she whispered kindly words;
the weeping mother only cried,--

"Dear Spirit, can you use no charm or spell to make the waves bring
back my chil