After that we had a few minutes of silence, while I sorted out thepebbles, and amused myself with watching Bruno's plan of gardening.It was quite a new plan to me: he always measured each bed before heweeded it, as if he was afraid the weeding would make it shrink;and once, when it came out longer than he wished, he set to work tothump the mouse with his little fist, crying out "There now! It's allgone wrong again! Why don't oo keep oor tail straight when I tell oo!"

"I'll tell you what I'll do," Bruno said in a half-whisper, as weworked. "Oo like Fairies, don't oo?"

"Yes," I said: "of course I do, or I shouldn't have come here.I should have gone to some place where there are no Fairies."

Bruno laughed contemptuously. "Why, oo might as well say oo'd go tosome place where there wasn't any air--supposing oo didn't like air!"

This was a rather difficult idea to grasp. I tried a change of subject."You're nearly the first Fairy I ever saw. Have you ever seen any peoplebesides me?"

"Plenty!" said Bruno. "We see'em when we walk in the road."

"But they ca'n't see you. How is it they never tread on you?"

"Ca'n't tread on us," said Bruno, looking amused at my ignorance."Why, suppose oo're walking, here--so--" (making little marks on theground) "and suppose there's a Fairy--that's me--walking here. Verywell then, oo put one foot here, and one foot here, so oo doosn't treadon the Fairy."

This was all very well as an explanation, but it didn't convince me."Why shouldn't I put one foot on the Fairy?" I asked.

"I don't know why," the little fellow said in a thoughtful tone."But I know oo wouldn't. Nobody never walked on the top of a Fairy.Now I'll tell oo what I'll do, as oo're so fond of Fairies.I'll get oo an invitation to the Fairy-King's dinner-party.I know one of the head-waiters."

I couldn't help laughing at this idea."Do the waiters invite the guests?" I asked.

"Oh, not to sit down!" Bruno said. "But to wait at table.Oo'd like that, wouldn't oo? To hand about plates, and so on."

"Well, but that's not so nice as sitting at the table, is it?"

"Of course it isn't," Bruno said, in a tone as if he rather pitied myignorance; "but if oo're not even Sir Anything, oo ca'n't expect to beallowed to sit at the table, oo know."

I said, as meekly as I could, that I didn't expect it, but it was theonly way of going to a dinner-party that I really enjoyed. And Brunotossed his head, and said, in a rather offended tone that I might do asI pleased--there were many he knew that would give their ears to go.

"Have you ever been yourself, Bruno?"

"They invited me once, last week," Bruno said, very gravely."It was to wash up the soup-plates--no, the cheese-plates I mean thatwas grand enough. And I waited at table. And I didn't hardly makeonly one mistake."

"What was it?" I said. "You needn't mind telling me."

"Only bringing scissors to cut the beef with," Bruno said carelessly."But the grandest thing of all was, I fetched the King a glass of cider!"

"That was grand!" I said, biting my lip to keep myself from laughing.

"Wasn't it?" said Bruno, very earnestly. "Oo know it isn't every onethat's had such an honour as that!"

This set me thinking of the various queer things we call "an honour" inthis world, but which, after all, haven't a bit more honour in themthan what Bruno enjoyed, when he took the King a glass of cider.

I don't know how long I might not have dreamed on in this way, if Brunohadn't suddenly roused me. "Oh, come here quick!" he cried, in a stateof the wildest excitement. "Catch hold of his other horn!I ca'n't hold him more than a minute!"

He was struggling desperately with a great snail, clinging to one ofits horns, and nearly breaking his poor little back in his efforts todrag it over a blade of grass.

I saw we should have no more gardening if I let this sort of thing goon, so I quietly took the snail away, and put it on a bank where hecouldn't reach it. "We'll hunt it afterwards, Bruno," I said,"if you really want to catch it.

But what's the use of it when you've got it?" "What's the use of a foxwhen oo've got it?" said Bruno. "I know oo big things hunt foxes."

I tried to think of some good reason why "big things" should huntfoxes, and he should not hunt snails, but none came into my head: so Isaid at last, "Well, I suppose one's as good as the other.I'll go snail-hunting myself some day."

"I should think oo wouldn't be so silly," said Bruno,"as to go snail-hunting by oor-self. Why, oo'd never get the snail along,if oo hadn't somebody to hold on to his other horn!"

"Of course I sha'n't go alone," I said, quite gravely. "By the way, isthat the best kind to hunt, or do you recommend the ones without shells?"

"Oh, no, we never hunt the ones without shells," Bruno said, with alittle shudder at the thought of it. "They're always so cross about it;and then, if oo tumbles over them, they're ever so sticky!"

By this time we had nearly finished the garden. I had fetched someviolets, and Bruno was just helping me to put in the last, when hesuddenly stopped and said "I'm tired."

"Rest then," I said: "I can go on without you, quite well."

Bruno needed no second invitation: he at once began arranging the deadmouse as a kind of sofa. "And I'll sing oo a little song," he said, ashe rolled it about.

"Do," said I: "I like songs very much."

"Which song will oo choose?" Bruno said, as he dragged the mouse into aplace where he could get a good view of me. "'Ting, ting, ting' is thenicest."

There was no resisting such a strong hint as this: however,I pretended to think about it for a moment, and then said "Well, I like'Ting, ting, ting,' best of all."

[Image...Bruno's revenge]

"That shows oo're a good judge of music," Bruno said, with a pleased look."How many hare-bells would oo like?" And he put his thumb into his mouthto help me to consider.

As there was only one cluster of hare-bells within easy reach, I saidvery gravely that I thought one would do this time, and I pickedit and gave it to him. Bruno ran his hand once or twice up and downthe flowers, like a musician trying an instrument, producing a mostdelicious delicate tinkling as he did so. I had never heardflower-music before--I don't think one can, unless one's in the 'eerie'state and I don't know quite how to give you an idea of what it waslike, except by saying that it sounded like a peal of bells a thousandmiles off. When he had satisfied himself that the flowers were intune, he seated himself on the dead mouse (he never seemed reallycomfortable anywhere else), and, looking up at me with a merry twinklein his eyes, he began. By the way, the tune was rather a curious one,and you might like to try it for yourself, so here are the notes.

[Image...Music for hare-bells]

"Rise, oh, rise! The daylight dies:The owls are hooting, ting, ting, ting!Wake, oh, wake! Beside the lakeThe elves are fluting, ting, ting, ting!Welcoming our Fairy King,We sing, sing, sing."

He sang the first four lines briskly and merrily, making the hare-bellschime in time with the music; but the last two he sang quite slowly andgently, and merely waved the flowers backwards and forwards. Then heleft off to explain. "The Fairy-King is Oberon, and he lives acrossthe lake--and sometimes he comes in a little boat--and we go and meethim and then we sing this song, you know."

"And then you go and dine with him?" I said, mischievously.

"Oo shouldn't talk," Bruno hastily said: "it interrupts the song so."

I said I wouldn't do it again.

"I never talk myself when I'm singing," he went on very gravely: "so ooshouldn't either." Then he tuned the hare-bells once more, and sang:---

"Hear, oh, hear! From far and nearThe music stealing, ting, ting, ting!Fairy belts adown the dellsAre merrily pealing, ting, ting, ting!Welcoming our Fairy King,We ring, ring, ring.

"See, oh, see! On every treeWhat lamps are shining, ting, ting, ting!They are eyes of fiery fliesTo light our dining, ting, ting, ting!Welcoming our Fairy KingThey swing, swing, swing.

"Haste, oh haste, to take and tasteThe dainties waiting, ting, ting, ting!Honey-dew is stored--"

"Hush, Bruno!" I interrupted in a warning whisper. "She's coming!"

Bruno checked his song, and, as she slowly made her way through thelong grass, he suddenly rushed out headlong at her like a little bull,shouting "Look the other way! Look the other way!"

"Which way?" Sylvie asked, in rather a frightened tone, as she lookedround in all directions to see where the danger could be.

"That way!" said Bruno, carefully turning her round with her face tothe wood. "Now, walk backwards walk gently--don't be frightened: oosha'n't trip!"

But Sylvie did trip notwithstanding: in fact he led her, in his hurry,across so many little sticks and stones, that it was really a wonderthe poor child could keep on her feet at all. But he was far too muchexcited to think of what he was doing.

I silently pointed out to Bruno the best place to lead her to, so as toget a view of the whole garden at once: it was a little rising ground,about the height of a potato; and, when they had mounted it, I drewback into the shade, that Sylvie mightn't see me.

I heard Bruno cry out triumphantly "Now oo may look!" and then followeda clapping of hands, but it was all done by Bruno himself. Sylvie: wassilent--she only stood and gazed with her hands clasped together, and Iwas half afraid she didn't like it after all.

Bruno too was watching her anxiously, and when she jumped down off themound, and began wandering up and down the little walks, he cautiouslyfollowed her about, evidently anxious that she should form her ownopinion of it all, without any hint from him. And when at last shedrew a long breath, and gave her verdict--in a hurried whisper, andwithout the slightest regard to grammar-- "It's the loveliest thing asI never saw in all my life before!" the little fellow looked as wellpleased as if it had been given by all the judges and juries in Englandput together.

"And did you really do it all by yourself, Bruno?" said Sylvie."And all for me?"

"I was helped a bit," Bruno began, with a merry little laugh at hersurprise. "We've been at it all the afternoon--I thought oo'd like--"and here the poor little fellow's lip began to quiver, and all in amoment he burst out crying, and running up to Sylvie he flung his armspassionately round her neck, and hid his face on her shoulder.

There was a little quiver in Sylvie's voice too, as she whispered "Why,what's the matter, darling?" and tried to lift up his head and kiss him.

But Bruno only clung to her, sobbing, and wouldn't be comforted till hehad confessed. "I tried--to spoil oor garden--first--but I'll never--never--" and then came another burst of tears, which drowned the restof the sentence. At last he got out the words "I liked--putting in theflowers--for oo, Sylvie --and I never was so happy before."And the rosy little face came up at last to be kissed, all wet with tearsas it was.

Sylvie was crying too by this time, and she said nothing but "Bruno,dear!" and "I never was so happy before," though why these two childrenwho had never been so happy before should both be crying was a mysteryto me.

I felt very happy too, but of course I didn't cry: "big things" neverdo, you know we leave all that to the Fairies. Only I think it musthave been raining a little just then, for I found a drop or two on mycheeks.

After that they went through the whole garden again, flower by flower,as if it were a long sentence they were spelling out, with kisses forcommas, and a great hug by way of a full-stop when they got to the end.

"Doos oo know, that was my river-edge, Sylvie?" Bruno solemnly began.

Sylvie laughed merrily. "What do you mean?" she said. And she pushedback her heavy brown hair with both hands, and looked at him withdancing eyes in which the big teardrops were still glittering.

Bruno drew in a long breath, and made up his mouth for a great effort."I mean revenge," he said: "now oo under'tand." And he looked so happyand proud at having said the word right at last, that I quite envied him.I rather think Sylvie didn't "under'tand" at all; but she gave him alittle kiss on each cheek, which seemed to do just as well.

So they wandered off lovingly together, in among the buttercups, eachwith an arm twined round the other, whispering and laughing as they went,and never so much as once looked back at poor me. Yes, once, just beforeI quite lost sight of them, Bruno half turned his head, and nodded me asaucy little good-bye over one shoulder. And that was all the thanks Igot for my trouble. The very last thing I saw of them was this--Sylvie was stooping down with her arms round Bruno's neck, andsaying coaxingly in his ear, "Do you know, Bruno, I've quite forgottenthat hard word. Do say it once more. Come! Only this once, dear!"

But Bruno wouldn't try it again.