his neighbors. All were delighted, and one old man said that the fairy
must herself be near by. He advised the man to seek until he found her.

So with feathered robe in hand the fisherman went out again to the
strand, and took his place near the pine tree. He had not waited long
before a lovely being, with rose-tinted white skin and of perfect form,
appeared.

"Please good sir, give me back my feathered robe," said she, in a sad
voice of liquid sweetness, though she seemed greatly frightened.

"No, I must keep it as a sacred treasure, a relic from a heavenly
visitor, and dedicate it in the shrine yonder as a memorial of an angel's
visit" said the fisherman.

"Oh, wicked man, what a wretched and impious thing to rob an inhabitant
of heaven of the robe by which she moves. How can I fly back to my home
again?"

"Give me your wings, oh ye wild geese that fly across the face of the
moon, and on tireless pinions seek the icy shores in spring time, and
soar unwearied homeward in autumn. Lend me your wings."

But the wild geese overhead only whirred and screamed, and bit their
sprays of pine which they carried in their mouth.

"Oh, ye circling gulls, lend me but for a day your downy wings. I am
prisoner here", cried the weeping fairy.

But the graceful gulls hovering for a moment swept on in widening circles
out to farther sea.

"Oh, breezes of the air which blow whither ye list! Oh, tide of ocean
which ebbs and flows at will! Ye may move all, but I am prisoner here,
devoid of motion. Oh, good sir have pity and give me back my wings,"
cried the moon-maiden, pressing her hands together in grief.

The fisher's heart was touched by the pathos of her voice and the
glittering of her tears.

"I'll give back your winged-robe if you'll dance and make music for me",
said he.

"Oh, yes, good sir, I will dance and make music, but first let me put on
my feather-robe for without it I have no power of motion."

"Oh, yes", said the suspicious mortal, "If I give you back your wings
you'll fly straight to heaven."

"What! can you not believe the word of a heavenly being, without
doubting? Trust me in good faith and you'll lose nothing."

Then with shamed face the fisherman handed to the moon-maiden her
feathered robe, which she donned and began to dance. She poured out such
sweet strains from her upright flute that with eye and ear full of
rapture, the fisherman imagined himself in heaven. Then she sang a sweet
song in whi