ting. "Oh, I can never go through that gloomy
forest," said she to herself, and her eyes filled with tears. She turned
to retrace her steps, when the soft breeze which still accompanied her
whispered, "Look at the thread you have been carrying! Look at the
golden thread!" She looked back, and the bright, tiny line of light
seemed to be actually smiling at her, as it stretched across the soft
greensward, far into the distance, and, strange to say, each tiny blade
of grass which it had touched, had blossomed into a flower. So, as the
little girl looked back, she saw a flowery path with a glittering line
of golden light running through it. "How beautiful!" she exclaimed, "I
did not notice the flowers as I came along, but the enchanted thread
will make the next traveler see them."

This thought filled her with such joy that she pushed forward into the
dark woods. Sometimes she knocked her head against a tree which stood in
her way; sometimes she almost feared she was lost, but every now and
then she would look back and the sight of the tiny thread of golden
light always renewed her courage. Once in a while she felt quite sure
that she could see the nose of some wild beast poking out in front of
her, but when she came nearer it proved to be the joint in a tree trunk,
or some strange fungus which had grown on a low branch. Then she would
laugh at her own fear and go on. One of the wonderful things about the
mysterious little thread which she carried in her hand was, that it
seemed to open a path behind it, so that one could easily follow in her
foot-steps without stumbling over fallen trees, or bumping against
living ones. Every now and then a gray squirrel would frisk by her in a
friendly fashion, as if to assure her that she was not alone, even in
the twilight of the dark woods. By and by she came to the part of the
forest where the trees were less dense, and soon she was out in the glad
sunshine again.

But now a new difficulty faced her. As far as she could see stretched a
low, swampy marsh of wet land. The mud and slime did not look very
inviting, but the thought of her little blind sister came to her again,
and she bravely plunged into the mire. The dirty, dripping mud clung to
her dress and made her feet so heavy that she grew weary lifting them
out of it. Sometimes she seemed to be stuck fast, and it was only with a
great effort that she could pull out, first one foot, and then the
other. A lively green frog hopped a