imself
than anything else, and it took a good deal to frighten him. Patter,
patter, patter it went. What could it be? He peered in and out and under
the bush, but he saw nothing except a nest full of little blue eggs,
which he would not touch for the world; no, he knew too well how pleased
old Fuss would be to have him disturb this little bird family, and he
concealed it again. As he did so, the sweetest little voice said,

"That's right."

Florio jumped as if a wasp had stung him.

"Yes," continued the voice, "you couldn't have pleased me better."

"But who are you? where are you?" asked Florio, to whom kind words were
unknown, but on whom they had the effect of making his heart beat with a
new and strange emotion.

"I cannot tell you anything just now very well, but if you will meet me
here in the moonlight this evening, Florio, I will be glad to see you."

"To-night?" questioned the boy, who did not like the darkness.

"Yes, child; have no fear. I am the fairy Florella. Adieu."

The days were generally too short for Florio, who hated the nights in
the dismal cavern, when Fuss pulled his hair and pinched his nose and
tripped him up over her staff by way of amusement; but now he longed for
the night to come, although it must be confessed he was not without
fears. Fuss was uglier than usual, but this did not affect Florio as it
might have done had he not had something unusual and exciting to think
of. Soon as the witch tumbled down on her heap of straw for the night,
and showed by her heavy breathing and frightful snoring that she was
asleep, Florio crept softly from the cavern.

It was a beautiful evening, soft and balmy, but to leave the bright
roadway and enter the dark woods demanded some courage, for ill-usage
had rendered Florio timid in the darkness, though, as I have said
before, he did not fear wild animals. Indeed, when a young fox came
cautiously out of the thicket, and glanced about, Florio approached near
enough to touch his bushy tail.

It was somewhat difficult to find the precise spot of the day's
occurrence, but he noticed that whenever he went in a wrong direction a
crowd of fire-flies would start up and show him the right way, and thus
he was enabled to find the sweet-brier bush. As he reached it he heard
the same patter, patter, patter on the leaves of the bush, and looking
up he saw what caused the sound. Troops of tiny creatures were
fluttering from leaf to leaf. Each had little silvery