Fairy, and it really seemed like a fairy now; one moment it was
quite out of sight, the next so near it almost touched us. At last, Fred
gave a long, loud whistle; when he began, it was up in the air, high,
high above our heads, but, before the sound passed away, it was
fluttering its pretty dark wings upon his face. From this time Fairy was
allowed to go free; and it would skim about before our windows all day
long, coming in from time to time to pay us visits, and to sleep at
nights in its old post on the top of one of our little beds in the
nursery.

At last August came, and then our pretty Fairy skimmed through the air,
far, far beyond the reach of Fred's whistle, for it had set out, with
all the other swallows, on its long voyage across the seas.

We had never thought of this,--never thought that our faithful Fairy
would so leave us,--and it was many days before the hope of its coming
back next year could make us feel at all happy again.

But Fairy, our own dear little Fairy, _did_ come back, and it remembered
us all, as if it had been away only for a few hours, instead of nearly
eight whole months.

It was a very happy day, the day that Fairy came back, and it seemed to
feel as much joy as we did; first it flew to Mary, and then to Fred, and
then to one after the other, twittering its wings, and rubbing its
pretty black head on our hands or faces, as we see dogs and cats do
when they want to show great kindness.

It flew to the top of the little bed at night, pecked at the window when
it wished to get out in the morning, and would dart down at Fred's
whistle as readily as it had been used to do the year before. In short,
notwithstanding the long voyage it had made, Fairy seemed to have
forgotten neither its old friends nor its old ways.

When it came near the time for the swallows to fly away again, we grew
very sad at the idea of losing our pretty Fairy: some thought it would
be wise to put it into a cage, and keep it there until all the others
were gone; while some, who were wiser, said it was Fairy's nature to go
away, and that Fairy must go. But what do you think was our joy to find,
that, of its own good will, Fairy stayed with us? All the others went
away; and, whether it had grown fonder of us, or that it had not liked
the long voyage it had been led into by the example of others, I cannot
say; but for four winters it stayed always with us, taking a flight now
and then in the open air, but spending th