the sweet smell of
hay-fields and gardens. All the sea people sang as they lay rocking on
the quiet waves, and Nelly felt as if this were the strangest, loveliest
dream she had ever dreamed.

By and by the moon shone full upon the Wonder-tree, and one by one out
popped the water-babies, looking like polliwogs, only they had little
faces and arms instead of fins. Lively mites they were, swimming away at
once in a shoal like minnows, while the older mermaids welcomed them and
gave them pretty names as the tiny things came to peep at them and dart
between the hands that tried to grasp them. Till dawn they kept in the
moonlight, growing fast as they learned to use their little tails and
talk in small, sweet voices; but when day came they all sank down to the
bottom of the sea, and went to sleep in the shell cradles made ready for
them. That was all the care they needed, and after that they had no
nursing, but did what they liked, and let the older ones play with them
like dolls.

Nelly had several pets, and tried to make them love and mind her; but
the queer little creatures laughed in her face when she talked to them,
darted away when she wanted to kiss them, and stood on their heads and
waggled their bits of tails when she told them to be good. So she let
them alone, and amused herself as well as she could with other things;
but soon she grew very tired of this strange, idle life, and began to
long for some of the dear old plays and people and places she used to
like so much.

Every one was kind to her; but nobody seemed to love her, to care when
she was good, or wish to make her better when she was selfish or angry.
She felt hungry for something all the time, and often sad, though she
hardly knew why. She dreamed about her mother, and sometimes woke up
feeling for baby, who used to creep into her bed and kiss her eyes open
in the morning. But now it was only a water-baby, who would squirm away
like a little eel and leave her to think about home and wonder if they
missed her there.

"I can't go back, so I must forget," she said, and tried to do it; but
it was very hard, and she half wished she was a real mermaid with no
heart at all.

"Show me something new; I'm tired of all these plays and sights and
toys," she said one day, as she and her two playmates sat stringing
little silver and rosy shells for necklaces.

"We are never tired," said Goldfin.

"You haven't any minds, and don't think much or care to know th