clapped her hand over his mouth,
saying:

"Pray, don't wish now; for it may come to pass as the man's wish in the
fairy tale did, and the black pudding flew up and stuck tight to his
wife's nose."

This made Ned laugh, and they all turned back to the corner. Looking up
the hilly road, they saw the three shadows trudging along, as if bent on
getting home in good time. Without saying a word, the children followed;
and, when they got to the garden gate, they all said at once:

"Aren't you glad you came?"

Under the elm-tree stood a pretty tea-table, covered with bread and
butter, custards, and berries, and in the middle a fine cake with
sugar-roses on the top; and mamma and baby, all nicely dressed, were
waiting to welcome them to the birthday feast. Polly crowned the little
queen, Ned gave her a willow whistle he had made, and Will some pretty,
bright pebbles he had found; and Miss Baby was as happy as a bird, with
her treasures.

A pleasant supper-time; then the small duties for each one; and then the
go-to-bed frolic. The nursery was a big room, and in the evening a
bright wood fire always burned there for baby. Mamma sat before it,
softly rubbing baby's little rosy limbs before she went to bed, singing
and telling stories meanwhile to the three children who pranced about in
their long nightgowns. This evening they had a gay time; for the shadows
amused them by all sorts of antics, and kept them laughing till they
were tired. As they sat resting on the big sofa, they heard a soft,
sweet voice singing. It wasn't mamma; for she was only talking to baby,
and this voice sang a real song. Presently they saw mamma's shadow on
the wall, and found it was the shadow-mother singing to the
shadow-children. They listened intently, and this is what they heard:

"Little shadows, little shadows,
Dancing on the chamber wall,
While I sit beside the hearthstone
Where the red flames rise and fall.
Caps and nightgowns, caps and nightgowns,
My three antic shadows wear;
And no sound they make in playing,
For the six small feet are bare.

"Dancing gayly, dancing gayly,
To and fro all together,
Like a family of daisies
Blown about in windy weather;
Nimble fairies, nimble fairies,
Playing pranks in the warm glow,
While I sing the nursery ditties
Childish phantoms love and know.

"Now what happens, now what happens?
One small shadow's tumb