e was so tired she was
forced to stop and rest on a bank where a glow-worm had just lighted its
little lamp.

"Can I stay here under this big leaf?" she asked, glad to see the
friendly light and bathe her tired feet in the dewy grass.

"You cannot go much farther, for the marsh is close by, and I see you
have no wings, so you never could get on," answered the worm, turning
his green lamp full upon the weary little wanderer.

Bud told her story, and was just going to ask if there was anything to
eat, for she was sadly hungry, when some very sweet voices called down
to her from a tall bush over her head,--

"Come to us, dear! We are the marsh-honeysuckles, cousins of the
columbines you met to-day. Here is supper, with a bed, and a warm
welcome for the good little creature Honey-bag the bee told us about."

Bud put up her arms to a great cluster of white flowers bending down to
her, and in a moment lay in a delicious place, full of sweetest
fragrance, while the honeysuckles fed and petted and rocked her to sleep
before she could half thank them for their kindness.

There was time for a good nap and a lovely dream before a harsh voice
waked her up, and she heard a bat talking as it hung near by, with its
leathery wings over its eyes to shut out the light of the glow-worm
still strolling about on the bank.

"Yes, the poor little boy wandered into the bog and was nearly drowned,"
said the bat. "It was that naughty Willy Wisp playing tricks again, and
leading people out of the right path to splash into the mud. I've
scolded him many a time, but he _will_ do it; for he loves to make the
woodmen and the children think he is the light in their cottage windows
till they fall into the marsh, and then he hides and leaves them to get
out as they can."

"What a wicked fellow!" cried Bud, rubbing her eyes and sitting up to
listen.

"Of course he wouldn't mind you, for he knows you hate light, and he
likes to teaze you by flashing his lantern in your eyes," said the
glow-worm.

"Yes, I do hate light of all kinds, and wish it were always night,"
scolded the bat.

"I don't! I love sunshine and stars and fireflies and glow-worms and all
the bright things; so perhaps if _I_ went and talked to Willy Wisp he
would stop playing these naughty pranks," said Bud, much interested, and
feeling that this would be a very good work to do for the dear children.

"You couldn't keep him out of mischief unless you told stories all
night. H