free to go on her
travels again. The grass was like a forest to her, the mounds of moss
were high hills, a little brook a great river, and a patch of sand a
desert to be crossed.

"First, I will dress myself nicely," said Bud; and coming to a wild
rosebush she gathered up several of the fallen leaves, and tried to
fasten them together with the thorns. But her little hands could not
manage the pretty pink skirt, and the thorns pricked her tender flesh as
she folded the leaves over her bosom; so she was about to give up in
despair and put on the faded green one again, when a wood-spider, who
sat in his hole near by, said kindly,--

"Come here, little lady! I can spin and weave, and I'll sew your dress
for you with pleasure. I saw you helping my neighbors the ants; so I
will help you."

Bud was very glad of this kind offer, and watched the spider at his work
as he sewed the pink leaves together with his silver thread as neatly as
a seamstress, put a line of embroidery all round the hem, and twisted a
silken cord to tie it at the waist.

"Oh, how pretty you are!" cried the spider when the dress was on. "You
must have a veil to keep the sun out of your eyes. Here is my last web;"
and he threw the shining gauze over her head, making her look like a
little bride under the silvery veil.

Bud thanked him very much, and went happily on till she came to a party
of columbines dancing in the wind. They thought she was the spirit of a
rose come to visit them, and lowered their scarlet horns to offer her
the honey in the tower ends.

She was just wondering where she should find some dinner, and here was a
delicious feast all ready for her, thanks to the pretty dress which made
the columbines think her a flower. She threw up her veil and told them
her story, which they thought very interesting and rather sad.

"Stay and live with us, little darling!" they cried. "You are too
delicate to go about all alone. The wind will blow you away, some foot
will crush you, or some cruel wasp kill you with its sting. Live here,
and we will be your friends, and feed and care for you."

"You are very kind, and your home is very pleasant; but I must go on. I
feel sure that I have something to do, that somewhere I shall find my
place, and sometime have a pair of wings, and be either a bird or a
fairy," answered Bud, as she rested by the rock round which the flowers
grew.

"Here comes our good friend Honey-bag, the bee. He is very wise; perha