it plainly came from the rafters over Bridget's head. She
looked up, but there was nothing there except the little yellow owl, who
was sitting in his cage, with his eyes very round and bright.

"How wise you look!" said Bridget aloud; "I wish you could help me."

What was her astonishment when the owl at once replied, in the same
stifled voice:

"What do you want?"

Bridget paused. What _did_ she want? Then she remembered that as the
owl could talk, it must certainly be a fairy, and could do anything, so
she said:

"I want to be very graceful."

The owl did not answer immediately, and Bridget kept a watchful eye on
her arms and legs, almost expecting them to be changed into models of
grace at once. Nothing of the sort happened, however; and the owl sat
as though in deep thought. At last it said:

"I can tell you a way, but it is difficult."

"I don't care how difficult it is," cried Bridget, now very much
excited, "if you will only tell me what it is I will do it."

"Try," said the owl solemnly.

"Try what?" asked Bridget anxiously.

"Try," repeated the owl, "nothing more; try."

Bridget's face fell; she was very much disappointed. Every one had told
her that till she was sick of the word. The owl could not be a fairy
after all.

"Is that all?" she said. "I always do that."

"Always?" asked the owl.

Bridget was silent a moment as she thought of the past week.

"Why, not _quite_ always."

"But it must be always," said the owl, "that's the secret of it. If at
_first_ you don't succeed, try, try, try again. You've heard that?"

"Of course I have," said Bridget sorrowfully; "I've heard it much too
often."

The owl did not answer, perhaps it was offended.

"Can it be possible," thought Bridget, "that I really haven't tried
enough?"

Just then something cold and moist was thrust into her hand, and she
started up bewildered, hardly able for the moment to make out where she
was. It was almost dark in the barn now, but presently she made out the
form of Toto the poodle, who had come to look for his mistress, and now
stood with his eager affectionate eyes fixed on her from under his
frizzled black hair.

Bridget stretched out her arms to him, and leaning forward, kissed his
shaven nose; she felt wonderfully better, and looked up at the owl to
thank it for its advice. It sat there blinking as though it had never
spoken in its life.

"But you did, you know," she said nodding at it, and sh