Part 6
“Ah, my kind friend!” cried the Fairy, “I knew you would be generous! This, then, you shall do for me. I will sleep to-night in your chamber, and to-morrow, when the sun is high, you shall take up the ferns out of the flower-pot, these ferns all moist with the water of the Indian spring. You shall take them up, and me with them,--though you will not see me after daylight,--and carry them to the woods whence you took them. And when you set them back in the ground of the forest where they grew, then I shall be free, free, free! Oh, dear boy, will you do this for me?”
“Yes, I will do this for you,” said Rob gravely.
“Thanks, thanks!” cried the Fairy. “And now, the night is almost done. I think I feel the daylight coming. You will see me no more. But I shall be sleeping soundly under the fern. And do you likewise go to rest in your little bed. Look! You are shivering with cold! But to-morrow do not forget your promise.”
“I will not forget,” said Rob, feeling indeed very cold and shivery. He crept away to his little bed, and was soon sound asleep, warm and comfy.
III
It was late when Rob woke the next morning. At first he thought that the adventure with the Indian Fairy must have been a dream. But as soon as he sat up in bed he saw the tin pail on the floor beside the window-seat, and the fern moist and green in the flower-pot. So he knew that it must all have been true. But he could not see the Fairy himself, though he knew that the little fellow must be snugly curled up under the green fronds of the fern.
When he came down to the breakfast table his father and mother were talking earnestly about something.
“It is a wonder he wasn’t killed!” said his Mamma, shuddering. “Why did you ever show him that dreadful well?”
“I shall have the cover screwed down,” said Mr. Evans. “It really isn’t safe. Hello, Son! You walked in your sleep again last night, did you know it? I suppose you don’t remember. But Mamma found one of your slippers outside the library door this morning, and Katie found the other on the cellar stairs. And Rob! _The cover of the old well was open!_ However did you lift it?”
“I don’t remember how I lifted it,” said Rob, quite truthfully, and he looked dazed.
“Well, we can’t have this, you know,” said his father. “I shall have to lock your door every night. But we will have that old well screwed up hereafter. Perhaps that will satisfy Katie, though I think she will not be troubled with any more noises in the wall. She says that there was a big, big rat dead in the trap this morning.”
And indeed, nobody ever heard any more noises in the cellar after Rob helped the Indian Fairy to escape. That very morning, right after breakfast,--for it was a Saturday and there was no school,--he dug up the ferns which he had planted in his flower-pot, and put them in a little basket with the earth around their roots. Then he started to take the electric car which would carry him out of town to the woods.
“Where are you going, Rob?” asked his Mamma, seeing him with cap in hand.
“I am going to take my ferns back to the woods,” Rob answered. “I think it is cruel to keep things that love the sunshine and the fresh air shut up in a house. I am sure that the ferns would much rather be back in the woods, don’t you think so, Mamma?”
“Well, I am sure I never thought of that!” said his Mamma. “But you may go if you will be back in time for dinner.”
[Illustration: ROB AND THE INDIAN FAIRY]
So Rob took the ferns to the woods and set them back in their first home under a big gray rock, the prettiest little spot in the world for a Fairy to dwell! But he saw nothing more of the Indian Fairy, though he looked and looked; and after he had started for home, went back there again three separate times to look, because he hated to part from his little new friend. But the last time he heard, or thought he heard, a very tiny, far-off, trickly voice say,--
“Farewell, my friend! Farewell! I am free, free, free! And you shall always be happy when you come to the woods, even if you never see me. For I will make this charm about you, because you were kind. Farewell, farewell!”
And this was the last that Rob ever heard of the Indian Fairy, though he went often and often to that same place in the woods; but the Fairy charm did indeed prove true, and Rob was always very, very happy as soon as he came into the woods, happier than he was anywhere else.
FAIRIES
If I should see a Fairy, I should not be afraid, I know so much about them, From all that I have read.
I’ve planned how I would greet them, And what I ought to say; I’d have my Wish all ready, To save the least delay.
I sometimes feel them near me, But still I cannot see. I wonder, oh! I wonder, Are they afraid of me?
The Riverside Press _Electrotyped and printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A._
THE FLOWER PRINCESS By ABBIE FARWELL BROWN
“Here is a return to the gracefully romantic fairy stories we all used to love. Four tales of adventure in the country where the unreal touches upon the real, prettily illustrated and written with the literary skill that always appeals to the good taste of a child.”
_The Outlook, New York._
“Delicate fancy and humor have gone into the making of these pretty tales for children, which prove again Miss Brown’s title to be numbered among the story-tellers mothers may depend upon.”
_The Christian Register, Boston._
Illustrated. Square 12mo, $1.00.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN & COMPANY
[Illustration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
By ABBIE FARWELL BROWN
IN THE DAYS OF GIANTS
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_New York Globe._ Illustrated by E. Boyd Smith. 12mo, $1.10, _net_. Postpaid, $1.21.
THE BOOK OF SAINTS AND FRIENDLY BEASTS
“There is a very tender, sympathetic charm about the book. Miss Brown has chosen a score of stories concerning saints and animals to tell again simply and with a pretty choice of word and phrase.”
_London Times._ Illustrated by F. Y. Cory. 12mo, $1.25.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN & COMPANY
[Illustration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.