{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_10463/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_10463","id":"gutenberg_10463","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10463","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Novels","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Fairies -- Juvenile fiction","Fairy tales","Magic -- Juvenile fiction","Orphans -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"THE LITTLE HOUSE IN THE FAIRY WOOD\n\nby\n\nETHEL COOK ELIOT\n\n\n    TO TORKA AND NORTHWIND\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n I. MAGIC IN A MIST\n II. THE BRIGHT HOUSE\n III. FIRELIGHT\n IV. THE GOSSIP\n V. WORLD STORIES\n VI. AT THE HEART OF A TREE\n VII. TREE MOTHER AND THE DROWSY BOAT\n VIII. A WITCH AT THE WINDOW\n IX. THE WIND HUNT\n X. ON THE GRAY WALL\n XI. THE BEAUTIFUL WICKED WITCH\n XII. IVRA'S BIRTHDAY\n XIII. NORA'S GRANDCHILDREN\n XIV. SPRING COMES\n XV. SPRING WANDERING\n XVI. OVER THE TREE TOPS\n XVII. THE JUNE MOON\n XVIII. THE DEEPEST PLACE IN THE WOOD\n XIX. MORE MAGIC IN A MIST\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nMAGIC IN A MIST\n\n\nThat morning began no differently from any morning, though it was to be\nthe beginning of all things new for Eric. He was awakened early by Mrs.\nFreg's rough hand shaking him by the arm, and her rough voice in his\nears: \"Get up, lazy-bones! _All_ you boys pile out, this very minute!\nIt's six o'clock already!\" Then she reached over Eric and shook the\nother two boys in the bed with him, repeating and repeating \"Wake up,\nwake up! It's six o'clock already!\" When she was sure the three boys in\nthe bed were awake and miserable, she crossed the room with a hurried,\nheavy tread and clumped, clumped down the stairs into the kitchen.\n\nThough it happened just that way every morning, and it had happened so\nthis morning, this day was to be very different from any other in Eric's\nlife. But Eric could not know that; so he crawled farther down under the\nfew bedclothes he had managed to keep to himself, and shut his eyes\nagain just for a minute.\n\nThe night had been a cold one, and the other two boys in the bed,\nbecause they were older and stronger, had managed to keep most of the\nbedding wrapped tightly around them, while little Eric shivered on the\nvery edge. So he had not slept at all in the way little boys of nine\nusually sleep,--that is, when they have a bed to themselves, and their\nmother has left a kiss with them. When he had slept, he had dreamed he\nwas wading in icy puddles out in the street.\n\nBut it was only a minute that he huddled there, trying to come really\nawake, and then he sprang out, and without thought of a bath, was into\nhis clothes in a minute. The two older boys followed him more slowly,\nyawning, growling, and quarreling.\n\nBreakfast was served in the kitchen by Mrs. Freg. The room was bare and\nugly like the rest of the house, and the food was far from satisfying.\nAs the older boys got most of the bedding for themselves, so they got\nmost of the breakfast, while Mr. and Mrs. Freg laughed at them, and\npraised them for fine, hearty boys who knew what they wanted and would\nget it.\n\n\"You will succeed in the world, both of you,\" said Mrs. Freg with\nmother-pride gleaming in her eyes, when they had managed to seize and\ndivide between them little Eric's steaming cup of coffee,--the only hot\nthing he had hoped for that morning.\n\n\"Will I be a success, too?\" asked Eric in a faint but hopeful voice.\n\n\"You!\" said the harsh woman. \"You, young man, had better be thankful to\nwork on at the canning instead of starving in the streets. That's the\nfate of most orphans. Success indeed! Now hurry along, all of you. It's\nquarter to seven.\"\n\nBut right here is where the day began to differ from other days. Eric\ndid not hurry along. He threw down his spoon and cried, \"I'd just as\nsoon starve in the streets, and wade in its icy puddles, too, as live\nhere with you and your nasty boys and work in that old canning factory!\nI just wonder how you'd feel if I went out this morning and never, never\ncame back! I'd like to do that!\"\n\nMrs. Freg laughed, and her laugh was not a nice mother-laugh at all, for\nshe was not Eric's mother, and had never pretended that she was.\n\n\"Why, little spitfire, it wouldn't matter a bit except to make one less\nmouth to feed. But you won't be so silly as that. You don't want to\nstarve.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said little Eric, snatching his cap from its peg. \"You said\nit wouldn't matter to you. You won't see me again, any of you. I hate\nyou all, and everything in the world. I hate you. You've made me hate\nyou hard!\"\n\nThen he suddenly ran out into the street.\n\nIn a minute he was in a flood of people, men, women and children moving\ntowards the canning factory, a big brick building on the outskirts of\nthe city. Eric had worked in that factory from the day he was seven.\nThere is no need to tell you what he did there, for this is not the\nstory of the canning factory Eric,--the queer, hating Eric who had waked\nup that morning.\n\nBut how he did hate! His eyes were full of hating tears, and they were\nrunning down his face, making horrid white streaks on his dirty cheeks.\nHe was hating so hard that he did not even care if people saw his tears.\nHe lifted his face straight up and dropped his arms straight down at his\nside and walked right along, no matter how fast the tears came.\n\nNow he had often hated before, but never quite like this. Before, it had\nbeen a frightened hate, a gnawing, hurting thing deep down in his heart.\nBut to-day it was a flaring hate, a burning thing right up in his head.\nIt was big, too, because it included everything that he knew, Mrs. Freg,\nher boys, the street, the people jostling him, and hottest and wildest\nof all the canning factory. How terrible to go in there in the morning,\nwhen the sun was only just up, and not to come out again until it was\nquite down! Eric knew little about play, but he did know that if he\ncould only be let stay out in the sunshine he would find things to do\nthere. If they'd only let him try it once!\n\nSo he walked along in the direction the others were going, the hating\ntears in his eyes and on his face. But no one laughed at him, and no one\nasked him what was the matter, even the other children. For he was not\ncrying in the usual way with little boys. He was walking along with his\nhead up. So people did not bother him.\n\nHe had reached the outskirts of the town, and was almost in the shadow\nof the big, cruel factory, when the Magic began to work. For there was\nmagic in this day that had started so badly. It was only waiting for\nEric to see it before it would take hold of him and carry him away into\nhappiness. It had waited for him at the door of the dull, bare little\nhouse that had never been home to him, but his tears would not let him\nsee it. So it had followed along beside him all the way to the factory,\nwaiting for him to feel, even if he could not see. And he did\nfeel,--just in time to let the Magic work.\n\nHe felt that the day that had begun so freezingly was warm, strangely\nwarm. He wiped the tears from his eyes away to the side of his face with\nhis sleeve, and looked about. The sun was very bright, but in a mild,\npleasant way. And a tree on the other side of the street was showering\nsoftly, softly, softly, yellow autumn leaves, until they covered the\ncobblestones all around. Eric did not think about being late. The Magic\nwas pulling him now. He went across and stood under the tree, and felt\nthe leaves showering on his head and shoulders, and caught a few in his\nhands.\n\nAll the people passed, and soon the last one was hidden behind the heavy\nfactory door. Eric gave the door a glance or two, but did not go. Over\nthe roof of the factory he saw the tops of tall trees waving. He had\nnever looked so high above the factory before. But he knew there was a\nwood on the other side, a wood he had always been too tired to think of\nexploring, even on holidays. Now he saw the tops of the tall trees\nbeckoning him in a golden mist. \"The mist is the yellow leaves they're\ndropping,\" thought Eric. With every beckon the golden mist of leaves\ngrew brighter and brighter, until he could not see the beckoning any\nmore, but only the mist. Still he knew the beckoning was going on behind\nthe mist.\n\n\"If I'm to live in the streets at night,\" he thought to himself,\n\"there's no need to live in the factory by day. I'll just go and see\nwhat those trees want of me.\"\n\nVery slowly, with little firm steps, he went by the factory door, and\nthen around under its windows to the wood at the back.\n\nIt was Indian Summer. That was why the golden leaves were showering in a\nmist, and why the sun was so warm.\n\nEric dropped his ragged coat and cap on the edge of the wood,--it was so\nwarm,--and went in.\n\nA little girl had been watching him from her place at one of the factory\nwindows where she was sorting cans. She had seen him before, working at\nthe factory, day after day, and they had played together sometimes in\nthe noon half hour. Now she wondered what he was doing out there. Had\nthey sent him, perhaps, to do a different kind of work that could only\nbe done in the woods? But as he walked away in under the trees farther\nand farther, the golden mist that was over the wood drew in about him;\nand although she leaned far forward over the cans at a great risk of\nknocking over dozens and setting them rolling,--he was lost in it. It\nhad dropped down behind him like a curtain.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE BRIGHT HOUSE\n\n\nEric knew nothing of the little girl and her thoughts. He was walking in\na golden mist, but he could see quite perfectly, and even far ahead down\nlong tree aisles. At first the trees did not grow very close together,\nand there was little underbrush. Several narrow paths started off in\ndifferent directions,--straight little paths made by people who knew\nwhere they were going. But Eric did not know where he was going, so he\nstruck off in a place where there was no sign of a path. Soon the trees\ndrew closer and closer together, until their branches locked fingers\noverhead and shook the yellow leaves down for each other. The leaves\nshowered softly and steadily. Eric's feet rustled loudly in them.\n\nSoon he stopped and took off his worn shoes and stockings. He left them\nwhere he took them off and went on, barefoot. Now that he was only in\nhis shirt and trousers he began to run and leap. He leapt for the\ndrifting leaves, and he ran farther and farther into the happy\nstillness.\n\nThe trees crowded and crowded, and the mist of leaves grew brighter and\nbrighter. No birds sang, for they had all flown away for the winter, and\nthere were no flowers. But the drifting leaves hid the bareness, and\nmagic covered everything.\n\nAfter Eric had run and leapt and waded in the crackling pools of leaves\nfor a long time, he grew hungry. \"But there is no food here,\" he\nthought; \"and anyway it doesn't matter. It's much better to be hungry\nhere than in the dirty streets.\"\n\nHe decided to go to sleep and forget about it. So he lay down in the\nleaves. They fell over him, a steady, gentle shower, and he slept long,\nand without dreaming anything.\n\nBut when he woke he was cold. And worse than that, the golden mist had\nfaded. It was almost twilight. The light was cold and still and gray.\nWhile he slept Indian Summer had vanished and its magic with it.\n\nNow no matter how fast Eric ran, or how high he jumped, he was chilly\nthrough and through. But he did not think of trying to find the way out\nof the wood. The streets would be as cold as the forest, and never,\nnever, never, if he starved and froze, was he going back to that house\nin the village where he had lived but never belonged. So he went on\nuntil the gray light faded, and the soft rustle of falling leaves\nchanged to the noise of wind scraping in bare branches. When he was very\ncold, and ready to lie down and sleep again to forget, he came quite\nsuddenly on an opening in the trees. In the dim light he saw a little\ngarden closed in with a hedge of baby evergreens. The wind was rustling\nthrough the stalks of dead flowers in the garden. But in the middle of\nit was a little low house, and the windows and doors were glowing like\nnew, warm flowers.\n\nYes, it was a house and a garden away there in the wood, but no path led\nto it through the forest, and there was a strangeness about it as about\nno house or garden Eric had ever seen.\n\nAlthough no path led through the wood to the house, a path did run\nthrough the garden to the low door stone. Eric went up it and stood\nlooking in at the door, which was open.\n\nThe glow of the house came from a leaping, jolly fire in a big stone\nfire-place, and from half a dozen squat candles set in brackets around\nthe walls. It was the one lovely room that Eric had ever seen. It was so\nlarge that he knew it must occupy the whole of the little house. But in\nspite of all the brightness, the comers were dim and far.\n\nThere were two strange people there, or they were strange to Eric\nbecause they were so different from any people he had ever known. One\nwas a young woman who sat sewing cross-legged on a settle at the side of\nthe fire-place. About her the strangest thing was her hair. It was not\nlike most women's,--long and twisted up on her head. It was short, and\ncurled back above her ears and across her forehead like flower-petals.\nIt was the color of the candle-flames. But her face was brown, and her\nneck and long hands were brown, as though she had lived a long time in\nthe sun. Her eyes that were lifted and scarcely watching the work in her\nhands, were very quiet and gray.\n\nShe was watching and talking to a little girl who was skipping back and\nforth between a rough tea-table set near the fire and an open\ncupboard-door in the wall. She was carrying dishes to the table, and now\nand then stopping to stir something good-smelling which hung over the\nfire in a pewter pot, with a strong bent twig for a handle.\n\nThe child was strange in a very different way from her mother. The\nmother, one could see, was merry in spite of her quiet eyes. But the\nchild was pale. Her face was pale and little and round. Her hair was\npale, too, the color of ashes, and braided in two smooth little braids\nhanging half way down her back. She moved with almost as much swiftness\nas the fire-shadows, and as softly too.\n\nBoth mother and daughter were dressed in rough brown smocks, with narrow\ngreen belts falling loosely,--strange garments to Eric. And their feet\nwere bare.\n\nBut stranger than the house, stranger than the people in it, was the\nfact that the mother was talking to the little girl just as people of\nthe same age talk to each other; and though Eric was shaking with cold\nand aching with hunger, he could still wonder deeply at that.\n\n\"It's a long way 'round by the big pine,\" she was saying; \"but you see I\nam home in time for supper. Suppose I had not come until after dark.\nWhat would you have done, Ivra?\"\n\nThe little girl stopped in her busy-ness to stand on one foot and think\na second. \"Why, I'd have put the supper over the fire, lighted the\ncandles, and run out to meet you.\"\n\n\"Oh, but you wouldn't know which way to run. I might come from any\ndirection.\"\n\n\"I'd follow the wind,\" cried Ivra, lifting her serious face and rising\nto her tiptoes, one arm outstretched, as though she were going to follow\nthe wind right then and there.\n\nIt was at that minute they noticed the door had blown open, and that a\nlittle boy was standing in it, looking at them.\n\nBut they neither stared nor exclaimed. Ivra ran to him, her arms still\noutstretched in the flying gesture, and drew him in. His dirty face was\nstreaked with tears, and his legs and feet were blue with the cold. They\nknew it was not question-time, but comfort-time, so the mother folded an\narm about him, and Ivra skipped more rapidly than ever between the\ncupboard and the table. Almost at once supper was ready, and the table\nset for three. As the last thing, Ivra brought all the candles and set\nthem in the middle of the table. They sat down,--Eric with his back to\nthe fire. It warmed him through and through, but their friendly faces\nwarmed him more.\n\nVery little was said, but when the meal was nearly over Ivra asked him\nhow long he was going to stay with them. Immediately he stopped eating\nand dropped his spoon. His eyes filled with tears. He had utterly\nforgotten about his plight until then,--how he was homeless, workless\nand bound to starve and freeze sooner or later. Ivra's mother saw the\nmisery in his face and quietly spoke, \"We hope for a long time. As long\nas you want to, anyway. Three in a wood will be merrier than two in a\nwood. . . . If you like me I will be your mother.\"\n\nIvra clapped her hands. \"Stay always,\" she cried. \"I will be your\nplaymate. There will be many playmates besides, too, and I will help you\nfind them.\"\n\nEric glowed. The hatred that had been flaring in his head suddenly\nfaded, and the heavy thing that had been his heart for as long as he\ncould remember, became light as thistledown. He looked at the mother and\nthe kindness in her eyes made him tremble. \"I will stay and be your\nchild,\" he said.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nFIRELIGHT\n\n\nWhen supper was done the three put away the supper things, carried the\ntable back to its place in the corner, and set the candles in their\nbrackets about the walls. Then almost at once the mother said it was\nbath-time and bed-time.\n\nBath-time! Baths had been rare in Eric's life, and when they did happen\nwere unhappy adventures,--cold water in a hand basin in the kitchen\nsink, a scratchy sponge, and a towel too small. So if Mrs. Freg had said\n\"bath-time and bed-time\" to him now, he might have run away. But if\nIvra's mother said it, it must be. She was _his_ mother too, now, and he\nloved her and thought her beautifully strange.\n\nA surprise was waiting for him. The bath was a deep basin set in the\nwall. There was a fountain in it that one had only to turn on to have\nthe basin fill with clear water. Eric slipped out of his ragged shirt\nand trousers and climbed up into it. The fountain came splashing down on\nhis dusty, shaggy head, falling in rivulets down his back and breast. He\nwas like a bird taking a bath; there was such happy splashing and\ndipping.\n\nBut no bird had ever the gentle soft drying, or was wrapped in such a\nwarm night gown as the mother found for Eric. It was one of Ivra's night\ngowns, but quite large enough. Then she tucked him into a narrow couch\nfar from the fire. It was the first time Eric could ever remember having\nslept alone.\n\nIvra was already in a bed against the opposite wall. Before the mother\ngot into hers, which was open and ready for her, she blew out all the\ncandles and opened the door and windows.\n\n\"Good night, my lambs,\" she said, and a very few minutes afterwards Eric\ncould see by the firelight that his mother and playmate were asleep.\n\nHow cold the wind felt as it blew over his face! But how warm and snug\nhis body was, there in the soft, clean night gown between the light,\nwarm blankets! How fine to be there so warm in bed while his cheeks grew\nred in the cold air and burned deliciously. How could he ever sleep? He\nwas too happy!\n\nHe looked at the fire. And then he looked harder. It was not a fire at\nall, but a young girl, all bright and golden, sitting with her head\ndrowsily bent forward on her knees and her arms wrapped close about her\nlegs. But as he watched she slowly lifted her bright head, and looked\nquietly about the room. Then she gradually and beautilully rose and\nstepped out of the fireplace onto the floor. Slowly she moved across to\nthe mother's couch and stood still as though looking down at her. Slowly\nshe bent and drew the bed-clothes higher about her shoulders, and kissed\nthe flower-petal hair curled back on the pillow.\n\nShe moved then to Ivra's couch, still slowly and very beautifully, and\nEric could see her smile at the little one huddled there, half on her\nface, one arm thrown up over her head. Gently the fire-girl rolled her\ninto a relaxed position on her side, tucked in the flung arm, and kissed\nthe closed eyelids.\n\nThen she stood a minute, looking away, Eric did not know where. But his\nheart began to ache with wonder and longing. Would she come to him\ntoo--or was he only a stranger?\n\nHe lay still, watching her from his dark corner. At last she stopped\nlooking away, and came across the floor to him. She brought all the\nbrightness of the room with her, and her feet made no sound on the\nboards. When she stood above him he shut his eyes, though he wanted very\nmuch to look up into her face. She bent down and her hands smoothed his\ncovers, warmed his pillow and lay still for a minute like sunlight on\nhis cheek.\n\nWhen he opened his eyes again, she had gone back to the fireplace, all\nher brightness with her, and was resting there, a drowsy, golden girl,\nher head bent forward on her knees and her slim arms wrapped close about\nher legs.\n\nEric lay and watched her for many sleepy minutes while her light fell\ndimmer and dimmer, lower and lower. When it was just a tiny flicker he\ndropped to sleep.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE GOSSIP\n\n\nHe slept long and deeply, for when he woke he felt rested. But he did not\nopen his eyes. \"It must be time for Mrs. Freg to shake me,\" he was\nthinking. \"Until she does I'll just stay as I am and pretend it wasn't a\ndream, but real.\" For although he remembered very well all that had\nhappened to him yesterday, he could not believe it was true.\n\nSo he lay still in his snug bed, wondering that Mrs. Freg's boys had\nleft him so much of the bed-clothes. \"How fine to have a little time to\npretend a dream!\" he said to himself. But Mrs. Freg did not come and did\nnot come, until at last he opened his eyes, just in wonderment. \"It must\nbe six o'clock!\"\n\nWhen he saw where he was, and that the dream was true, his heart almost\nstood still for joy. He was indeed far away in the woods, safe and snug\nand warm in this bright house, and Mrs. Freg could never reach him here.\nAnd he would not go to the canning factory that day, nor the next, nor\nthe next, nor ever again. The new mother had said so. His happiness\nbrought him up in bed wide awake, and then he got out. He had not\nlearned to bound out yet, but that came.\n\nThe fire was burning merrily. All was in order, the beds made and pushed\nback against the wall, the hearth swept, and some clusters of bright red\nberries arranged above the fireplace. But where were Ivra and\nHelma?--Ivra had called her mother \"Helma\" last night, and so it was\nthat Eric already called her and thought of her. There was not the\ntiniest sign of them.\n\nOh, but yes. There on the floor near the hearth lay a little brown\nsandal, one of its strings pulled out and making a curlycue on the\nfloor. That must belong to Ivra. The fire, the red berries, and the\nlittle, worn sandal, seemed to be wishing Eric a good morning and a\nhappy day. There was plenty of mush in the pot swinging over the fire,\nand on the table drawn up to it, a wooden spoon, a bowl, and a jug of\nrich cream. So they had not forgotten him. They had only let him sleep\nas long as he would. They must have stolen about like mice, getting\nbreakfast, clearing up, and tidying the room; and then closed the door\nvery softly behind them when they went out.\n\nAnd wonder of wonders! After yesterday's Indian Summer, outside it was a\nwild winter day. Gusts of snow were hurling against all the windows of\nthe house, and blowing a fine spray under the door. Eric with his face\nagainst a windowpane could see only as far as the evergreen hedge\nbecause the trees beyond were wreathed in whirling snowclouds. The dead\nflowers in the garden were hidden under the blowing snow. The little\nstraight walk up to the door was lost in it, and the footprints Ivra and\nHelma must have made when they went away were hidden too.\n\nSomething red blew against the hedge. For a minute Eric thought it was a\nbig bird. But it found the opening and came through, and then he saw it\nwas a little old woman. She came briskly up to the house, a red cape\nblowing about her, sometimes right up over her head, for because of the\njug she was carrying she could not hold it down. She walked in without\nstopping to knock and was as surprised to see Eric there as he was to\nsee her. But she got over it at once.\n\n\"Good morning,\" she said cheerfully, going across the room, whisking a\npitcher out of the cupboard and emptying her jug of milk into it. \"This\nis the milk for them, and it's as much as ever that I got here with it.\nThe wind is in a fine mood-pushed me here and there all the way through\nthe wood, and tried to steal my cape from me, say nothing of Helma's\nmilk! Perhaps some of the Wind Creatures wanted them, or it might be old\nTree Man himself, looking for a winter cape for his daughter. But I\nsaid, 'No, no. The milk is for Helma and little Ivra! I take it to them\nevery morning and I'll take it this morning whether or no, so pull all\nyou like--cape or milk you'll not get. The cape has a good clasp, and\nI've a good hold of the jug. Pull away!\"\n\nHere the old woman--the pitcher put away, and the cupboard door\nclosed--dropped down on the settle and waited for Eric to speak. She was\na jolly little old woman, one could see at a glance. Her face was the\ncolor of a good red apple, and just as round and shiny. Her eyes were\nbeady black, bright and quick, and surrounded by a hundred finest\nwrinkles, that all the smiles of her life had made. Her mouth was pursed\nup like a button, out of which her words came shooting, quick and bright\nand merry.\n\nEric stood looking at her, not thinking to say anything. So after the\nbriefest pause she went on, peeping into the pot.\n\n\"I see you have some mush here, so as I've come all the way from the\nfarm and am ready for a second breakfast after my tussle with the wind,\nI'll share it with you. Or perhaps you have had yours already.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" cried Eric, suddenly remembering how hungry he was and hoping\nshe would not take it all. \"I have just waked up.\"\n\n\"So. Then we'll breakfast together,\" and away she flew to the cupboard\nagain and brought out a second bowl and spoon. Then she stirred the mush\nround and round a few times and dished it up. Eric noticed that she\ndivided it exactly evenly. She flooded both bowls with cream, and\ntogether they sat down to it. What a good breakfast that was, and how\nfast the little old woman talked!\n\nBut in spite of all her talking and flying around she had looked Eric up\nand down and through and through, and made up her mind what kind of a\nperson he was. What she saw was a pale little boy of nine in a ragged\nshirt and trousers, and barefooted. His hair was shaggy and unbrushed\nbut tossed back from a wide brow. His mouth was sullen. But she forgot\nall about shabby clothes, unbrushed hair, and sullen mouth when she came\nto his eyes. They were wide and clear, and returned the old woman's keen\nglance with a gaze of steady interest. Sullen and pale, but\nclear-eyed--she liked the little stranger. And so she went on talking.\n\n\"I bring them milk every day. It's a long way here from my farm, but not\ntoo far when it's for them. Helma's gone into the village, hasn't she?\nWhen I came to Little Pine Hill this morning the snow stopped whirling\nfor a minute, and I caught a glimpse of her a-striding across the\nfields. It's a fine way of walking she has--like the bravest of Forest\nPeople! When I reached the Tree Man's the wind didn't stop for me, but I\nspied that child, Ivra, just where I knew she'd be,--racing and chasing\nand dancing with the Snow Witches out at the edge of the wood. 'It's a\npity she can't go with her mother,' I said to myself when I saw her,\n'and not be wasting her time like that. The Snow Witches are no good to\nany one. But--'\"\n\nEric interrupted there, having finished his mush and pricking up his\ncars at the mention of witches.\n\n\"Are they really witches?\" he cried. \"And have you seen them yourself?\"\n\n\"What else would they be?\" asked the old woman. \"They're the creatures\nthat come out in windy, snowy weather, to dance in the open fields and\nrun along country roads. Ordinary people are afraid of them and stay\nindoors when they're about. Their streaming white hair has a way of\nlashing your face as they rush by, and then they never look where\nthey're going. They care nothing about running into you and knocking the\nbreath out of you. Then, they're so cruel to children!\"\n\n\"But Ivra isn't afraid of them!\" wondered Eric.\n\n\"Not she,\" said the old woman. \"She runs _with_ them instead of away\nfrom them. When I saw them back there they had all taken hands and were\nleaping in a circle around her. She was jumping and dancing in the\ncenter as wild and lawless as they, and just as high, too. . . . But it's a\npity she isn't with her mother all the same, going on decent errands in\nthe village. Only of course it's not her fault, poor child! She daren't\ngo into the village.\"\n\n\"Why _daren't_ she?\" asked Eric.\n\n\"_How_ dare she?\" cried the old woman. \"She'd be seen, for she's only\npart fairy, of course. But hush, hush!\"\n\nShe clapped her hands over her mouth. \"What am I telling you,--one of\nthe secrets of the forest, and you a stranger here? You must forget it\nall. Ivra's a good child. Now don't ask me any more questions, or I\nmight tell you more.\"\n\nBut Eric had begun to wonder. What did it mean, that Ivra was part\nfairy? And why wasn't it safe for her to be seen in the village? And\nwere there really witches, and was she playing with them out there in\nthe wild day?\n\nThe old woman was talking on, but he heard no more.\n\nThen the door blew open in a snowy gust of wind, and there stood Helma,\nthe mother, her arms full of bundles, her cheeks ruddy from the wind,\nand her short hair crisp and blown.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nWORLD STORIES\n\n\nNow Eric learned that the old woman's name was Nora, for that was what\nHelma called her, and seemed glad to find her there. She stayed on only\nlong enough to see what Helma had brought in her bundles, and then\nstarted out for the farm, drawing her red cape closely about her this\ntime, and not blowing much as she walked briskly to the gap in the\nhedge. Once through she disappeared quickly in the high drifting snow.\nHardly had she gone her way when Ivra came from another, jumping the\nhedge and reaching the door in three bounds.\n\nHelma had bought a good deal of thick brown cloth in the village and a\nstrip of brown leather. It was all for Eric. She had noticed his lack of\nshoes and stockings last night, and that his worn clothes were much too\npoor and thin for winter in the forest. To-day, while she sewed for him,\nhe would have to stay in. That was a pity, for it is such fun out in a\nstorm. By night, though, all would be finished.\n\n\"And that is good!\" exclaimed Ivra. \"For to-night the Tree Man has asked\nus to a party. We're going to roast chestnuts and play games, and\nthere's to be a surprise, too. The Tree Girl called it all out to me as\nI passed just now. She put only her head through the door, for the snow\ncame so suddenly it caught her without a single white frock,--only a\nbonnet. But that was pretty. It has five points like a star, mother.\"\n\n\"The Tree Girl,\" said Eric. \"What a queer name! But how did she know\nabout me to ask me too? Did she ask me?\"\n\n\"I told her about you. And of course she asked you. You are my\nplaymate!\"\n\nHelma pulled a table to the settle and sat down with all the brown cloth\nbefore her, a work-basket, and shears. But first she measured Eric for\nhis new clothes.\n\n\"You may make the leggins, if you want to,\" she said to Ivra, \"and when\nyou come to a hard place tell me and I will help. You may even measure\nthem yourself.... We're the only Forest People, Eric, who wear anything\nbut white in the winter. Most Forest People like to be the color of\ntheir world. They often laugh at us. But I like brown. Ivra makes me\nthink of a brown, blown leaf, and now here will be two of them! You can\nblow together all over the forest.\"\n\nEric's eyes swam in sudden, happy tears, but he only said, \"_Nora_ wore\nred.\"\n\n\"Oh, she's not one of us,\" laughed Helma. \"But she's lived close to us\nso long, she is able to see us. We aren't afraid of her. She's a good\nneighbor.\"\n\nBut why might they be afraid of such a nice old woman, Eric wondered. He\nwas to learn sometime, and much beside, for this was the beginning of\nnew things for him, and his mother, Helma, and Ivra were strange people.\nBut how he loved them!\n\n\"Now that we are settled at our work, and nothing to interrupt, what\nshall it be?\" asked Helma. She and Ivra were sewing briskly, one in each\ncorner of the settle. Eric was stretched on the floor, looking now into\nthe blaze, and now up at the windows where the snow tapped and swirled;\nfor to-day,--Helma had said,--was to be a rest day for him. It was the\nfirst rest day he could remember, and how _good_ it was! To know he\ncould lie there with no cans to sort or label for hours, and no Mrs.\nFreg to boss him about when work was over! There were to be no more cans\nfor him forever, and no more Mrs. Freg. Helma had said that quite\nfirmly. He believed her and was so happy that he trembled. And so, it\nbeing true that never again should he go back to that unchildlike life\nthat had frightened him so, and tired him so, all the breaths he drew\nfelt like sighs of relief, and he turned his shaggy little head on his\narm, crooked under it, and watched Helma's flying brown fingers with\nglad eyes.\n\n\"What shall it be?\" asked Helma.\n\n\"Oh, World Stories, please,\" said Ivra, drawing her feet up under her as\nshe bent over her sewing.\n\n\"Eric probably knows very few of the World Stories,\" said Helma. \"So\nsometime I shall have to go back to the beginning and tell them all over\nfor him.\"\n\n\"And I'll stay and hear them over again too!\" cried Ivra, dropping her\nwork to clasp her hands. \"I love to hear stories over.\"\n\n\"Why, better than that, you might tell them yourself. Would you like\nthat?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes--if I can. Do you suppose I can, mother Helma? I shall begin at\nthe very beginning, way back before men were in the world at all, or\nfairies even. He'd like to hear about the big animals. And you will\nlisten, mother, to see that I get it all right?\"\n\nNow these World Stories of Helma's were wonderful stories, but all true.\nThey began way back when the Earth was young. There were stories about\nthe Earth itself, how it hung in space and turned, making day and night.\nWhen the strange, great animals that by-and-by appeared on the Earth and\nhave since gone from it first came into the stories, and then, later,\nthe floods and glaciers, and at last the first man,--any child might\nhave listened with delight and wonder. Ivra had listened so ever since\nshe was a tiny girl, old enough to understand at all. And with man, and\nthe wonderful happenings that came along with him, Ivra had begged for\nthe stories day and night, and never could have enough of them. For then\nin a great procession came the stories of cities and nations, of great\nmen and women, of explorations and adventures. They led in turn to\nstories of languages and writing, of painting and geometry, of music and\nof life. The names of these things may not promise good stories to you,\nbut that is only because you do not know them as stories. If you could\nlisten to Helma telling them, by the fire, or out in the starlight, deep\nin the wood, or swinging in a tree-top,--then no other stories you might\never hear would satisfy you quite. So perhaps it is as well you do not\nknow now just where Helma's little house is standing deep in the wood\nunder the snow.\n\nIvra always said that the nicest thing about the stories was the\ninterruptions. Helma never minded them, and she answered all the\nquestions Ivra asked. She answered them by making things that Ivra could\nsee with her own eyes, by drawing pictures on the ground or in the\nashes, building with earth or snow, playing with wind and water, and in\na hundred other ways. Sometimes the answer to a question would take up\nthe playtime of a whole day.\n\nBut now Eric was to hear his first story, World Story or any other kind.\nCan you imagine how it would feel if to-day you were to hear the first\nstory of your life?\n\n\"All ready?\" asked Helma.\n\nThe silence in the room said plainer than words that all was ready for\nthe World Story. This time it was a story about a man named Saint\nFrancis, and a story after Eric's own heart.\n\nAlmost as fast as the story went the work of Helma's fingers. But Ivra\nwas neither so swift nor so skilled, and the leggins were dropped many\ntimes from forgetful hands because all her thoughts were gone away\nfollowing the story.\n\nYet somehow the leggins got done, and the jacket and trousers got done,\nand even a little round cap, and all before dusk. For a finishing touch\nHelma sewed two soft little brown feathers she had picked up in the snow\none on either side of the cap,--which gave Eric, small as they were and\nsoft as they were, a look of flying.\n\nThen nothing remained but the sandals, and because Eric was well rested\nby then, he was allowed to help at them. They were cut from the strip of\nbrown leather, and Helma showed Eric how to shape them and sew them\nhimself. So after supper he stood attired, all in brown, a pale, happy\nchild, ready for his first party.\n\nIvra and Eric were to go to the Tree Man's party alone, for Helma was\ngoing far away from the wood to spend the evening with a comrade. It was\nto be a very long walk for her, for she put on her heaviest sandals and\npulled the hood of her cloak up over her hair.\n\nShe walked with the children as far as Little Pine Hill. It was a low\nhill, bare of trees, except for a dwarfed pine on the top. In summer the\nslope was slippery with the needles of the little pine, but now it was\nseveral inches deep in snow. It was bright starlight, and far away down\nan avenue of trees, Eric saw shining open fields, and beyond them the\nlights of the town.\n\nThere Helma said good-by. Eric looking up at her in the starlight saw\nher hair like pale firelight under her dark hood and her eyes so calm\nand friendly. He clung to her hand for a minute.\n\n\"Have a good time,\" she told them. Ivra leapt away and Eric after her.\nHelma stood watching until their little forms had flickered out of sight\namong tree-shadows. Then she sped down the starlit avenue towards the\nopen fields and the town.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nAT THE HEART OF A TREE\n\n\nIvra and Eric ran until the stars were almost lost to them under the snow\nroof of the forest. Once Eric stopped to tie his sandal-string which had\nloosened and was bothering him. Then the stillness of the world startled\nhim.\n\nHe cried to Ivra to wait, and she came back to his side. \"Don't be\nfrightened,\" she comforted. \"There are Forest People near us. They would\nwalk with us, for some of them are going to the party too, but they are\nafraid of you. That's why they've drawn their white hoods over their\nheads and keep away. Once we are inside the Tree Man's, though, it will\nbe all right. They'll come in too, and not be afraid any more.\"\n\n\"But why are they afraid of me?\" asked Eric, tugging at his\nsandal-string. \"No one else has ever been afraid of me. Even Juno, Mrs.\nFreg's cat, who was afraid of 'most every one, liked me and jumped into\nmy lap. Why are the Forest People afraid?\"\n\n\"Well, they are Forest People, you see, and you are an Earth Child.\nMother and I weren't afraid of you, of course, because,--we aren't\nexactly Forest People.\"\n\nIvra paused and the silence came back. Eric looked up at her.\n\n\"Are you cold?\" he asked.\n\n\"No, no.\" But she began to jump up and down and knock her heels together\nto get warm. Eric still struggled with his lacings. Ivra stopped jumping\nand went down on her knees in the snow to straighten them out for him.\nEric's fingers were awkward with knots, and besides, now, they were numb\nwith the cold. But Ivra had everything right in a minute. She crossed\nthe strings over his instep and tied them snugly above his ankle almost\nbefore he could think. Then they ran on. In starlit spaces Eric caught\nglimpses of hurrying figures, so swift and light he could not tell\nwhether they walked or flew. Their cloaks sparkled white in starlight\nuntil he was not sure but they might be starbeams, and not Forest People\nat all.\n\nOne suddenly started up just at his elbow, and was away like the wind.\nIvra began to run and to call after it. \"Wild Star! Silly Wild Star!\nIt's only I, Ivra, and my playmate. Wait for us!\"\n\nEric followed her, running as fast as he could, but the snow held him\nback, and all the trees in the forest seemed to gather to stand in his\nway. Ivra came back to him, laughing. \"They are so afraid of you! No one\nwill come near us until the Tree Man is there to protect him.\"\n\nSoon they came to a big beech-tree standing in an open space with\nsmaller beeches making a circle around it. The starlight showed,\nstrangely, a narrow door in the trunk. Ivra pushed it open and Eric\nfollowed in after her, wondering at going into a tree.\n\nThey were on a flight of stairs lighted by starlight from a window\nsomewhere high up. At the head of the flight they came to a door, and\nthrough the crack beneath it streamed a warmer light than starlight.\nIvra opened that door gayly, and through it with her, Eric went to his\nfirst party.\n\nIt was the jolliest room in all the world. The firelight and candlelight\ndid not reach so far as the walls, but left them in soft darkness. So\nEric had the feeling that the room was really much too large to be\ninside of a tree. But in spite of its bigness, it was very cozy. The\nfireplace was in the middle of the floor, just a great hollowed boulder,\nheaped with crackling twigs.\n\nThe candles, red, green, yellow, brown and orange, stood circlewise on a\ntable by which the Tree Man sat, carving a doll out of a stick. A\nworkbasket on the table was overflowing with bright threads and pieces\nof queer cloth.\n\nEric saw these things because just for a minute he was too shy to look\nat the people in the room. Almost at once he had to look at the Tree\nMan, however, for he came and shook him by the shoulders. Eric had been\nshaken by the shoulders before, so he shrank away. But this was very\ndifferent from Mrs. Freg's shakings. The Tree Man was chuckling, not\nscolding, and the dark eyes that Eric looked up above the long white\nbeard to find were friendly and wise.\n\n\"Do not fear us, little Earth Child,\" he said. \"It is we that have cause\nto fear you. You have only to blink your eyes, pretend to be knowing,\nand we are nothing. But your eyes are so wide and so clear, we trust\nyou. Ivra told us there was not the tiniest shadow in them, not even the\nshadow of leaf. Only hunger. But we're not afraid of hunger. Come, have\na good time at the party.\"\n\nThen the Tree Girl, the Tree Man's daughter, came to him. She was shy,\nand shook all her soft brown hair about her cheeks. A circle of little\nyellow leaves kept her hair from her eyes, which, in spite of her\nbashfulness, were steady and kind like her father's. \"I am glad you are\nhere.\" she said. From that minute Eric felt at home in the tree.\n\nEric and Ivra were the first of the guests. The others perhaps had been\ntoo scared to come. But soon knock after knock sounded at the door, and\nin flocked the Forest People who had been invited.\n\nFirst came the Bird Fairies, five of them together, merry and good\nlittle creatures as ever lived in the wood. They had arrived only that\nday from their summer homes in the far north, 'way up among the\nsnow-barrens. They always spent the winter in this wood, living in the\nempty birds' nests and spending their time making up songs to teach the\nbirds that would come back in the spring. Bird Fairies cannot sing a\nnote themselves, nor carry an air, but they make up fine songs for the\nspring birds, who while they can sing with beautiful voices really have\nbut few ideas.\n\nThey are fluffy, cuddly, swift little creatures, tiny and quiet. One\nmight think them of little account just at first, but not for long. For\nthey are the farthest-traveled of all the Forest People, except the Wind\nCreatures only. Now they were fluttering in, and off came their white\ncloaks and forth they hopped in bright colors, little feet twinkling and\npattering, little wings lifting and wavering. They gathered around the\nTree Man, nestling in a row on his shoulder, running up and down his\narms, giving all of the news of their long journey into his ear. He\nchuckled and chuckled and soon sat down by the table again, nodding his\nhead with delight at the tales they were telling him.\n\nMeanwhile, another group entered,--the Forest Children. The Forest\nChildren are little girls and boys who live all by themselves in moss\nhouses deep in the thickest of the forest, and know nothing of mothers,\nnurses or schools. They came tumbling, cheering, and skipping in, curls\nbobbing, eyes shining. When their white cloaks were taken off with the\nhelp of the Tree Girl and Ivra, it was plain to see that they had no\nmothers. Their frocks were torn and stained, and half their\nsandal-strings untied and flapping. The Tree Girl sighed as she patted\nthe bobbing curls into some order, tied the laces and straightened a\nbuckle here and there.\n\nNow the room was musical with sound.\n\nThe last guest arrived, Wild Star, who had run away from Eric in the\nforest. He was a Wind Creature. Wind Creatures are growing-up girls and\nboys who live near the edge of the forest. Like all fairies, they can\nonly be seen by Earth People on a day that is clearer than a day should\nbe, or by people like Eric who have no shadows in their eyes.\n\nWild Star dropped his bright white cloak as he entered. His wings were\npurple, the color of early morning, high and pointed. But they clapped\nthemselves neatly down his back to avoid the ceiling. He was a beautiful\nboy, wild and starry, and that is how he got his name. Wind Creatures\nare strong and swift, a little too wide-awake and far-traveled to be\nvery intimate with the Forest People. But Wild Star, though he was as\nswift and strong as any, often came to the Tree Man's, and often played\nwith the Forest Children in their moss village for days together. He\nloved the Tree Man, and now he sat down cross legged by him, and laid\nhis bright cheeck against his knee.\n\nSo the party began.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTREE MOTHER AND THE DROWSY BOAT\n\n\n\"Let's play hide-and-go-seek,\" cried the Forest Children, for that is\nalways their favorite game.\n\nUp jumped Wild Star, down fluttered the Bird Fairies, in crowded the\nForest Children, and the Tree Man counted out for them. He pointed his\nfinger at each in turn while he said this verse, which he made up on the\nspot:\n\n  \"Sticks are racing in the flood--\n    Trees are racing in the wood--\n  In the tree-tops winds are racing--\n    In the sky-tops clouds are chasing.\n  In the tree-heart snug and warm,\n    We hear nothing of the storm.\n\n  When we play at hide-and-seek,\n    It is _you_ must count the sheep.\"\n\nAt \"you\" the finger pointed at Eric, and it meant that he was to be\n\"It.\"\n\n\"Put your head here on my knee. Shut your eyes and count one hundred\nsheep jumping over a stone wall, not too fast,\" explained the Tree Man.\n\"While you're counting the others hide. Anywhere in this room, and\nanywhere on the stairs. Out-doors is no fair.\"\n\n\"But _where_ are the sheep?\" asked Eric, \"and how can I count them with\nmy eyes shut?\"\n\nEvery one suddenly looked puzzled. The Forest Children's eyes grew wide\nwith wondering. The Bird Fairies fluttered uneasily. The Tree Girl\nseemed dazed. Wild Star said, \"Why, we never thought of that,--where\n_are_ they?\"\n\nBut Ivra laughed and ran to Eric. She took his hand and said, \"The sheep\nare inside your own head. Just shut your eyes and try to see them. It is\nvery easy. The wall is low, and there's a place where the stones are\nbeginning to roll down. The sheep go over there, one by one.\"\n\nEric shut his eyes and put his head down on the Tree Man's knee. And it\nbegan to happen just as Ivra had said. There was a green hill-pasture, a\nlittle gray stone wall slanting across it, and sheep, one by one,\njumping where the wall was broken down, following their leader. He\ncounted one hundred of them and then stopped although a dear little lamb\nwas trotting down the hill, trailing the procession. He wanted to see if\nthe lamb would be able to jump the wall too. But the Tree Man had said\none hundred, so he stopped and opened his eyes.\n\nThings were strange. The Tree Man was nothing but an old stump. The room\nfelt very cold and it was bare. The fire in the boulder had gone out.\nBut he heard a soft fluttering somewhere and took heart. The Bird\nFairies! They might be hiding high, having wings. He went all around the\nroom, looking up into the dusk. At last, there they were in row on a\nbeam, their wings spread over their eyes.\n\n\"Bird Fairies, I spy!\" cried Eric, and ran towards the stump. But wings\nare swifter than feet, and the Bird Fairies reached the goal first.\n\nHe found Ivra at the top of the second flight of stairs, curled up in a\nshadow.\n\n\"I spy!\" and he ran just as fast as he could down the stairs. He was\nahead of her to the door, and thought he would surely win. But she\npassed him in the room and touched the stump first.\n\nThe Tree Girl, of all places, was kneeling behind the stump. Of course\nshe touched it the minute Eric spied her, and so she was safe.\n\nThe Forest Children were hiding, some in the hall behind the door, some\non the stairs, one under the table. And everyone of them beat him to the\ngoal and touched it first.\n\n\"Now there's only Wild Star,\" Ivra cried. \"You must catch him, Eric, or\nelse you'll have to be 'It' again!\"\n\nWild Star was outside, up in the top of the tree in the starlight. Eric\ndiscovered him by seeing one of the tips of his purple wings which was\ncaught in a crack of the sky door. \"I spy!\" he called, and pulled the\nwing-tip to let Wild Star know he was found.\n\nBut of course Wild Star passed him like a flash, his strong wings\nbeating down.\n\nTears of vexation welled in Eric's eyes. One thing he had gained though.\nBecause he had found them all, even though he could not run so fast as\nthey, the Tree Man had come back, and sat there in the place of the\nstump, and all was warm and bright again. The Tree Man had only wanted\nto prove for himself that Eric could see Wild Star, the Bird Fairies,\nand the others without Ivra to point them out to him. But he felt\nsatisfied now that Eric's eyes were really clear, and that he would\nnever hurt any of them by looking through them or pretending that they\ndid not exist.\n\n\"Wild Star is It now,\" he said. \"For he didn't play fair, going outside\nlike that.\"\n\n\"Oh, I forgot outside was no fair,\" cried Wild Star, laughing.\n\nSo this time Eric hid with the others, while Wild Star counted sheep.\n\nHe ran wildly all round the room trying to find a hiding-place. But\neverywhere there was someone ahead of him. At last he came back to the\nTree Man himself with Wild Star counting sheep at his knee.\n\n\"Ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven,\" counted Wild Star. \"Oh dear! Oh\ndear!\" Eric whispered to himself in despair.\n\nIvra was hiding behind the Tree Man, and so she jumped out and pulled\nEric back to hide with her.\n\n\"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!\"\n\nWild Star started up, and never thinking to look behind the Tree Man\nwent circling the room in swift flight. He saw Ivra and Eric as he flew\nover their heads, of course, and they laughed and touched the Tree Man\nfirst.\n\nBut he caught most of the others, even the Forest Children who are so\nswift and clever.\n\nAfter that, almost everyone had to take his turn at being It.\n\nWhen the merry game came to an end at last, they gathered around the\nboulder fireplace. The twigs were glowing embers now and looked like\nmyriads of golden flower-buds. Then the Forest Children began clamoring\nfor a World Story. So Ivra climbed up on the Tree Man's knee and tipping\nher head back against his chest, looked into the fire and told one of\nHelma's World Stories. It was the story of a glacier. That may not sound\nlike a very interesting story to you, but if you could hear Ivra tell it\nin all its wonder just as Helma had told it to her, you would never ask\nfor a better story. No, you would ask for that one over and over again,\nas the Forest Children did the minute she was through.\n\nBut instead of telling that one over, Ivra told another, a little story\nabout some eggs and a brood of chickens. And they wanted _that_ over.\nBut there must be an end to everything, and so the Tree Girl brought out\na bowl of beechnuts, and they forgot the stories, and ate as much as\nthey wanted. There were apples, too, big and red and cold cheeked.\nEveryone was hungry.\n\nWhen all were satisfied, there was sudden whispering among the guests.\nThe Bird Fairies fluttered and hummed with excitement. The Forest\nChildren's eyes began to shine expectantly. Ivra, who still sat on the\nTree Man's knee, spoke what they were all thinking. \"The surprise,\" she\nsaid to the Tree Man. \"You know you promised us a surprise to-night. Is\nit time for it yet?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Tree Man. \"It is. _High_ time! Come, put on your cloaks.\nIt's a cold night.\"\n\n\"But the surprise!\" they all cried at once. \"We don't want to go home\nuntil we have had the surprise!\"\n\n\"Oh, the surprise is up in the branches. My mother is there with her\nair-boat, waiting to take you all home.\"\n\nThe Forest Children clapped their hands and jumped up and down until\ntheir sandal-laces that were not already loose and flapping came undone\nand flapped too. Wild Star sprang towards the stairs, his face alight,\nIvra slipped down from the Tree Man's knee and ran to Eric.\n\n\"The Tree Mother! The dear, beautiful Tree Mother! We are to see her and\nride with her!\" she cried.\n\nThen she dashed away for her cloak. The Forest Children, with the Tree\nGirl's help, were tumbling into theirs, wrong-end-to mostly, ripping off\nbuckles in their hurry.\n\n\"The Tree Mother! The dear Tree Mother!\" their little teeth chattered in\necstasy.\n\nWhen all were ready they crowded up the straight starlit stairs. At the\ntop they crawled out through the sky door, one by one, into the\nbranches. Eric followed Ivra, and saw a great black moth-like thing\npoised in air by the tree's top. But it was hollowed like a boat and a\nshadowy woman was standing upright in it. A dark cloak covered her, but\nthe hood had fallen back, and her face in the starlight was very\nbeautiful and very young, younger even than Helma's, whose face Eric had\nthought all that day too young and glad to be a mother's. How could this\nbe the Tree Man's mother, he wondered,--the Tree Girl's grandmother!\nThen he saw that her hair was white, whiter than all the snow that lay\nin the forest.\n\nIt was very cold kneeling there and clinging in the tip of the great\nbeech-tree. The forest below was still and dark. But the air and the\nwintry star-filled sky were bright with a blue, cold light. After the\nwarmth at the heart of the tree, the cold was almost unbearable. Eric\nlonged to wave his arms about, and jump up and down to get warm, but he\nhad to cling, still and motionless, to the branches to keep from\nfalling.\n\nAt last Ivra whispered \"It's our turn now,\" and taking Eric's hand, she\nmade him jump with her right out into cold space. For one awful instant\nhe thought they were both falling down, down to the ground. But they had\nonly dropped into the air-boat. The Tree Mother leaned forward and\npulled a blanket over them. Her eyes as she did it, looked straight into\nEric's. They were dark, and deep as the forest shadows. He began to\nspeak to tell her who he was, for her look was questioning. But she put\nher finger to her lips. Then he noticed for the first time that every\none was silent. Even the Tree Man and his daughter who stood in the tree\ntop waving good-by spoke no words, only nodded and waved. The last Bird\nFairy fluttered noiselessly in. Eric lay back under the warm blanket,\nsnuggled against Ivra. A Bird Fairy nestled into the palm of each of his\nhands. All was still and warm. The air-boat slipped away high and higher\nover the tree-tops and on and on.\n\nOn a cold, starlit night, nestled in feathery warmth, to sail over the\ndark tree-tops, high and higher and on and on--that is a wonderful\nthing. And when the Tree Mother stands above you, wrapped in her dark\ncloak with her face shining under her cloudy white hair, now and then\nbending to tuck the blanket more snugly about you--what could be more\nblissful?\n\nVery soon Eric became drowsy against his will. His eyelids dropped like\ncurtains shutting out the stars. But he roused when the boat stopped,\nhovered, and sank down like a bird until it rested on the crusted snow\nin the middle of a tiny village of tiny moss houses; only now, of\ncourse, the houses were covered with snow, and looked like baby Eskimo\nhuts. The Forest Children crept sleepily out of the boat, kissing the\nTree Mother good-by as though in a dream. Not a word was spoken. There\nwas the creak of their little feet on the cold snow,--that was all. Each\nchild went alone into his little house. They were lighted and looked\nwarm through the doors, and Tree Mother nodded as though that were well.\nBut before the air-boat had risen out of sight, the lights were all out,\nand the Forest Children sound asleep, snuggled into their moss beds.\n\nFrom then on stops were frequent, and Eric woke at each one. At every\nBird Fairy nest at which they stopped, the Tree Mother leaned from the\nboat and scooped the crusted snow out of the nest. Then when the Bird\nFairy was settled down, she powdered the snow with her fingers until it\nwas soft, and heaped it over the little creature, who was already\nasleep.\n\nWild Star was left in the tip of the tallest tree in the forest. There\nhe lay without covering, his face up to the cold sky, his arms flung\nback above his head, his wings folded tight. He half opened his\nslumbrous eyes on the Tree Mother as the boat floated away, but before\nthe smile in them faded he was asleep.\n\nThere was straight, sure, even flying then to Helma's little house, set\nin its snowy garden,--and down they sank to the door stone. The Tree\nMother carried Ivra, who was fast asleep, in in her arms. The fire leapt\nwhen they entered, until the walls and floor danced with light. The Tree\nMother undressed Ivra, who never once opened her eyes, and tucked her\ninto bed. Then she helped Eric, who was fumbling and missing buttons in\na sleepy way. But he was awake enough to kiss her good-night. And that\nwas the end of everything until morning.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nA WITCH AT THE WINDOW\n\n\nWhen the children woke the next morning, there was no Helma. Her bed had\nnot been slept in. They had been too sleepy the night before to wonder\nat her absence, but now they could hardly believe their eyes. The room\nwas strange and lonely without her. The fire had died in the night. They\nsat up in their beds and talked about it.\n\n\"She always comes back before bedtime,\" said Ivra. \"She has never stayed\naway before.\"\n\nEric said, \"Perhaps that is why the Tree Mother brought you in and\nundressed you--perhaps she knew our mother had not come back. She looked\nwise, as though she knew everything.\"\n\n\"She does know everything,--at least everything in the forest. But did\nshe bring me in, right here in her arms, Eric!\"\n\n\"And undressed you while you were sound asleep.\"\n\nIvra laughed with delight, and clasped her hands. \"Truly, truly? The\ndear Tree Mother undressed me? Are you sure? Did she kiss me\ngood-night?--\" But suddenly she grew solemn. \"Yes, she knew that mother\nwas not here. She only takes care of those who have no one else. Well,\nwe will have to wait for mother, that is all. She will surely come this\nmorning.\"\n\nBut she did not come that morning, nor that day, nor for many days. You\nshall hear it all.\n\nThe children laid the fire, together,--shivering but hopeful. Ivra got\nthe breakfast, teaching Eric, so that next time he could help. They\nchattered and played a good deal, and really had quite a merry time over\nit. It was only at first that Ivra was solemn over Helma's\ndisappearance. Soon her good sense told her that Helma loved them both,\nand nothing could keep her long from her children.\n\nAfter breakfast they washed and put away the dishes. Then they tidied\nthe room. They hurried over it a little, perhaps, for it was a bright\nwinter day, and all the forest was waiting to be played in. Before they\nran out, they put a log on the fire that it took both of them to lift.\nIf Helma should come back while they were away, she must find a warm\nhouse. Ivra skipped back after they were outside to set out a bowl and\nspoon for her, and stand the cream jug beside them.\n\nThen away they fled, running and jumping in the frosty morning air. Ivra\ntaught Eric some games that could be played by two alone. They were\nrunning games, climbing games, hiding games, jumping games. Ivra was\nswift and strong and unafraid. Her cheeks reddened like apples in the\ncold. She was a fine playfellow.\n\nNot until they were hungry did they think of home. Then they ran, hand\nin hand at last, jumping the garden hedge like deer, their hearts\nbeating with the expectation of running straight into Helma's arms. But\nno Helma was there. Nora had come with the milk, left it, eaten the rest\nof the porridge, and gone away again without waiting for a word with any\none. The children wished she had stayed. They needed some one to talk\nwith about their mother. Of course they knew she would come back, all in\nher good time. Ivra made Eric understand that. But the room seemed even\nemptier without her than it had in the morning. They cheered each other\nas best they could, drank a lot of the fresh milk and ate some nuts.\nThey wanted to get away into the forest again and forget the empty\nhouse, so they did not try to cook anything.\n\nThey played hard all the afternoon. Towards twilight it grew warmer and\nbegan to snow, great wet flakes. They ran home, leaping the hedge again.\nThe house was still empty. Helma was not there.\n\nThey stirred up the fire, and sat down on the floor in front of it to\ntalk over what they should do. Then it happened,--the strange, the\nbeautiful, the frightful thing! Eric saw a face at the window. It was so\nperfectly beautiful, that face, that he wanted to shut his eyes against\nit. It almost hurt. It was the face of a young woman, very pale, but\nwhen her eyes met Eric's they filled with dancing laughter. Her hair\nunder her peaked, white hood glistened blue-black like a river in the\nsnow. She lifted a small white hand and tapped on the window pane,\nnodding to him merrily.\n\nIvra turned at the sound of the little fingers on the glass. When she\nsaw the face, she started to her feet with a frightened cry, and rushing\nto the door, drew the bolt.\n\n\"She can't get in. She can't get in, Eric. Don't be afraid. We are\nsafe.\" But the poor little girl did not believe her own words. She was\ntrembling.\n\n\"Why, I'm not afraid,\" said Eric, running to the window. The merry eyes\ndrew him. Now her mouth danced into smiles with her eyes. She made\npretty signs to him to open the window and let her in.\n\nBut Ivra pulled him back. \"Don't you know? It's the Beautiful Wicked\nWitch!\" she whispered.\n\nBut Eric was impatient. \"How can she be wicked when she's so beautiful!\"\nhe exclaimed. He was so little used to beautiful people in his life that\nnow he was fascinated and delighted.\n\nThe Beautiful Wicked Witch looked at Ivra then, and Ivra saw how her\neyes were dancing, great black eyes full of splendor and fun. She caught\nher breath. She laughed back at the Beautiful Wicked Witch. She could\nnot help herself. But her hands flew to her mouth to stop the laugh.\n\n\"Shut your eyes, Eric. That must be best, not to look at her at all.\nThat is what mother did when she came before. She bolted the door and\nthen we sat down in front of the fire and never looked at the window\nonce, while she told me a long, lovely World Story about Psyche and her\nlittle playmate Eros. Then when we had forgotten all about the Beautiful\nWicked Witch, we looked at the window by accident and she was gone.\nCome, I'll tell you a World Story now, the same one.\"\n\nBut Eric hardly heard what she was saying. He moved nearer and nearer to\nthe window. Ivra followed him, charmed by the laughing face there too.\nThen together they unbolted the windowpane and opened it outward. The\nBeautiful Wicked Witch stepped in.\n\n\"How silly to be afraid of me, children,\" she laughed. \"I have only come\nto play with you.\"\n\n\"Oh goody!\" cried both of the children together. For now that she was in\nthe room all their fear and wonder had vanished.\n\nIt was dusk, and so they lighted all the candles and poked the fire,\nbefore they turned to entertain their guest. But the candles did not\nburn very well, very faintly and flickeringly,--and the fire fell lower\nand lower, instead of growing higher and higher as they nursed it.\n\n\"Don't mind about that,\" laughed the Beautiful Wicked Witch. \"There's\nenough light from the window for us to play together in. We won't bother\nwith the stubborn old fire and the silly little copy-cat candles. Come,\nwhat shall we play?\"\n\nBut the children had been playing hard all day, and their bodies were\ntired. \"Oh, tell us a story instead of playing,\" begged Ivra. \"This is\nthe time when mother tells her very best stories.\"\n\n\"Well, I am not mother,\" said the Beautiful Wicked Witch; \"but I will\ntell you the best stories I can. Come sit near the window where the\nlight is stronger. That fire will never burn while I am here. I am\nbrighter than it, and the old thing is jealous.\"\n\nThe children laughed at her joke. But it was true,--she was very bright.\nHer eyes seemed to light the room, or perhaps it was her gown, like an\nopal fire, blue and pink and purple, changing and glowing, and made of\nthe softest silk.\n\nIvra nestled close to her knee where she could stroke the gleaming silk.\nEric sprawled on the floor at her feet, his face upturned to hers.\n\nThen she told them a story. It was not like any of Helma's World\nStories, but the children liked it. It was all about a gorgeous bird she\nhad at home in her tree-house. She told how she had heard it singing one\nmorning in early spring, high up in the branches of her tree, and how\nshe had watched it day after day flying back and forth in the forest,\nits yellow breast flashing among the green leaves. It had a long golden\nbill, and its tail was black as jet; and its wings were the softest gray\nin the world with a feather of jet in either one. Its song was the\nclearest, the highest, the purest of all the bird songs in the forest.\nIt was a wonderful bird, and she wanted it for her own.\n\nThen she told the children how she had set traps for it, and how it had\nescaped every time. But at last she had made a dear little cage, all\nwoven of spring flowers and leaves, and put food in it. Still the bird\nescaped, pulling the food out with its long bill and never getting\ninside the door. And finally she told them how she did capture that\nwild, shy bird by learning its song and singing it sitting in her\ntree-house with the window open, until the bird heard and came flying in\nwonder to find what other bird was calling it. Then she had closed the\nwindow and the bird was hers. It hung now in the pretty cage in her\nprettiest room, and sometimes sang in the middle of the night.\n\nEric liked the story, and all the better because it was a true story.\nAnd the Beautiful Wicked Witch said he could see the bird himself if he\nwould come to her house. He could stroke its bright breast, and it would\nsing perhaps. Then there were other things caged in her house, cunning\nlittle animals, and some big ones, worth any boy's seeing.\n\nBut Ivra answered for Eric, shaking her head hard. \"No, no. Mother\ndoesn't want us to visit you.\"\n\nBut Eric said, \"May I open the cage door and the window and see the bird\nflash away? I should like that.\"\n\n\"No. Well, perhaps,\" said the Beautiful Wicked Witch. \"Will you come\nthen?\"\n\n\"I can't, I suppose, if Mother Helma doesn't want me to. Are you sure\nshe doesn't, Ivra?\"\n\nIvra was sure.\n\nThe Beautiful Wicked Witch laughed then. \"Of course, if you _tell_ her\nshe won't let you come. But if you came without telling, how could she\nmind?\"\n\n\"That sounds true,--but someway it can't be,\" said Ivra. And that seemed\nto end it.\n\nBut after a little the Beautiful Wicked Witch began another story. This\none was about a frock she had made, a wonderful thing all of cobwebs and\nviolet petals, with tiniest rosebuds around the neck. If Ivra were to\nslip that frock over her head, and unbraid her funny little pigtails,\nshe would look as pretty as any fairy in the world.\n\nIvra was not too young to want to be pretty. If she would only go to the\nBeautiful Wicked Witch's house, she could try on that dress, and wear it\nfor one whole day if she liked. Ivra clasped her hands. But then she\nthought, and asked a question. \"Could I play in it, and run and climb?\nWould I be as free as in this little old brown smock?\"\n\nThe Beautiful Wicked Witch raised her hands in horror. \"My cobweb frock!\nWhy, it would be ruined! It would be in shreds! How can you even think\nof treating it so!\"\n\nSo Ivra shook her head until her funny little pigtails flopped from side\nto side. \"I don't want to wear it then for even a minute. What fun would\nthere be?\"\n\n\"Well, think about it anyway,\" said the Beautiful Wicked Witch, and rose\nto go away. \"It's the fir, you know, beyond the white birch.\"\n\n\"Thank you for the stories,\" said the children.\n\n\"Good-by,\" said the Beautiful Wicked Witch. \"Perhaps Eric will remember\nand come. It's a gorgeous bird, and I haven't said he couldn't free it.\"\n\nThen she slipped out into the snow flakes, turning to give them one\ndancing look over her shoulder before the door swung to.\n\nUp flamed the candles, clear high flames when she was gone, and the fire\ncrackled again, and took on new life, reaching higher and higher.\n\nThey got their supper together rather silently. But just before going to\nsleep Ivra roused herself to say, \"Let's promise each other we won't go\nto the Beautiful Wicked Witch's fir until mother comes home,--and we can\ntell her how jolly the Witch is, and what good stories she told us.\"\n\n\"I don't want to go anyway,\" answered Eric, \"unless I can free the\nbird.\"--But you see, he had not promised.\n\nAfter a while, \"Did you notice how pale her face was when she wasn't\nlaughing?\" asked Eric.\n\n\"Yes, and not so beautiful then. Mother may come in the night, and we\nnever know it till morning!\"\n\nSoon they were asleep, a tired, but happy little girl and boy.\n\nI think the Tree Mother sank down in her air-boat to look in at them and\nopen the door wide, which they had forgotten, so they would have fresh\nair all night; but it was dark, and the room was shadowy, so perhaps it\nwas only the wind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE WIND HUNT\n\n\nAfter all, Mother Helma was not there the next morning,--nor the next,\nnor the next. She did not come back for days and days and days. Much\nhappened before she returned, and much happened after. I will tell you.\n\nDuring the days the children roamed the forest looking for their mother.\nThey asked every one they could find whether he had seen her. The Tree\nMan, his daughter, the Bird Fairies, and the Forest Children, not one of\nthem had seen or heard of her since she went away. But they all said\nwith one accord that she would surely come back in her own time. It was\nnot wise to go seeking her so. She loved them. She would return.\n\n\"Wait and be patient,\" they said. \"Time will bring Helma.\"\n\nBut they were Forest People, who live long, long lives, and see far.\nEric was an Earth Child, and Ivra was not all a Forest Child. So they\nfound it hard to be wise and wait and do nothing but trust Helma and\nknow she would return.\n\nSo they went wandering all the day. They did not go home for meals,\neven, after a while, but ate with the Tree Man and his daughter or the\nForest Children. Sometimes as they walked through the forest, looking\nall about, even up into the trees for their mother, they would suddenly\nburst into play. \"Tag,\" Ivra would cry, tapping Eric on the shoulder,\nand away she would fly, he after her, in a race that grew merrier and\nmerrier as it ran on. Ivra darted and twisted away when Eric thought he\nhad her, rolling down little hills on the snow crust, climbing trees,\njumping brooks until he was lucky enough to catch her by one of her\npigtails at last, or snatch her flying skirt. \"Tag!\" Then away he sped,\nand the game would go on for a happy while.\n\nBut sooner or later they always stopped running, stopped laughing, and\nremembered why they were wandering the wood alone. Then they would call\nfor Helma. Ivra's voice was shrill and sweet, and rang through the bare\nwoods like a birdsong. Eric's wavered a little uncertainly, as though he\ndoubted whether Helma knew it well enough to answer. \"Helma, Helma,\nHelma! Ohh Helma! Helmaa-a!\"\n\nNo Helma answered. Sometimes a Forest Child came running to say, \"We\nhaven't seen her yet, Ivra. But we are watching.\" The Bird Fairies\nfluttered at the call and nodded their little heads uneasily. Children's\nvoices calling for their mother was a sad sound, and made the kindly\nlittle creatures restless. One or two of them would fly to nestle in\nIvra's neck and whisper, \"Give her time. Do not hurry her so. She will\ncome back.\"\n\nBut the children were losing faith. They went calling, seeking and\nplaying through the woods all the hours of daylight. At night Ivra told\nEric World Stories, World Story after World Story until sleep made them\nforget.\n\nThe fifth morning of their search dawned blue and clear and windy.\n\n\"The Wind Creatures will be happy to-day,\" said Ivra when she opened her\neyes and heard the wind pushing at all the windows of the house and saw\nthe blue morning sky. \"Wild Star will be circling the world.\"\n\n\"Why, then he will see Helma somewhere!\" cried Eric.\n\nIvra sprang from her bed. \"Eric, how splendid! We must go with him! Why\ndidn't I think of it at the very first!\"\n\nThey did not stop for breakfast, but were into their coats and ready for\nthe day's search in a twinkling. Neither of them had bothered to undress\nthe night before. Ivra's hair had gone unbrushed for two days. Things\nlike that are apt to slip when one's mother is away. So her little\npigtails were no longer smooth and glossy, but frowsy and loose, and the\nrest of her hair was ruffled until it looked something like the Bird\nFairies' soft plumage. Eric's head, too, was shaggier than ever, and a\nsmudge from firebuilding had darkened one of his cheeks since the\nmorning before. They had not bathed in the \"bird bath\" since Helma had\ngone away. They never seemed to have time, or else they were too sleepy.\n\nNow they no more thought of baths than they thought of breakfast. Eric\nfollowed Ivra, who knew all the ways in the forest, to the spot where\nWild Star was most likely to be, if he was to be found at all on such a\nwindy, perfect day. They ran earnestly, never slackening to skip or\nplay. And soon they came in sight of some giant cedar trees near the\nedge of the forest. There were several Wind Creatures standing there,\nlaughing in shrill, glad voices, pointing with their arms, and flapping\ntheir purple wings. Wind Creatures are growing-up boys and girls with\nfairy-hearts and strong, never-tiring purple wings, remember. Wild Star\nwas among them.\n\nBut before the children had come up to them, the Wind Creatures suddenly\njoined hands,--as they do just before flying,--and started running down\nthe sloping hill that ended the forest.\n\nFor a minute Ivra was in despair. \"Now they are gone for the day to\ncircle the world, and I shall never find mother,\" she thought. But she\ndid not waste any more breath running. She stopped short and lifted her\nvoice, clear and insistent, \"Wild Star! Wild Star! I need you! Don't run\naway. Wild Star!\"\n\nThe Wind Creatures had reached the foot of the hill, running swiftly\nhand in hand, and their wings were already lifted for flying. But Wild\nStar, at the sound of Ivra's voice, leaned back suddenly on the hands he\nwas holding, almost throwing his comrades on their faces, and breaking\nthe line. He turned right about, swinging the others with him, and came\nleaping and running back.\n\n\"What is the matter, little comrade?\" he asked. \"What is the matter?\"\n\n\"In all your flying 'round the world, Wild Star, you must have seen my\nmother Helma. She is lost. Oh, can't you tell us where she is?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. But I didn't know she was lost. I thought she was\nvisiting Earth-friends.\"\n\n\"Truly, truly?\" Ivra's eyes shone with joy, and Eric grabbed his cap\nfrom his head and threw it up in the air shouting, \"Hurrah!\"\n\n\"Oh, will you bring her to us right away?\" Ivra begged.\n\nWild Star looked doubtful. \"Perhaps she wouldn't want to come.\"\n\nIvra laughed merrily at that. \"Then take us to her,\" she said, \"and you\nwill see how she wants to come when we ask her.\"\n\n\"Give us your hands, then!\"\n\nThey held out their hands. Ivra's was grasped by Wild Star's and Eric's\nby another Wind Creature. With their free hands they clasped each\nother's. So the four started running down the hill, while the rest of\nthe Wind Creatures flew off over their heads.\n\nWild Star and his comrade ran faster and faster, until Eric wondered how\nit was that he and Ivra were ever keeping up with them. Soon he realized\nthat his feet were scarcely touching the ground. At the foot of the hill\nstood a little group of birches, and they were running right upon it. He\ndid not see how they could either turn out or stop themselves at that\nspeed. Almost as soon as he had seen the birches, though, they were\nbeyond them. They had not turned out, they had jumped right over the\nbirches, and they were much higher than Eric's head! They were running\nso swiftly now that only their toes ever touched the ground,--if _they_\ndid.\n\nWhat fun it was to run like that, the wind at their backs, and the Wind\nCreatures drawing them strongly forward faster and faster and faster\nuntil they were really flying just above the snow.\n\nAcross white fields they skimmed,--over fences and frozen streams,\nbushes and banks, through orchards and meadows, on, on, on, until they\ncame to the town.\n\nThere Ivra pulled back for a minute, and the Wind Creatures slowed down.\nEric knew why Ivra was afraid of the town. She had told him all about it\nwhile they played in the wood. Helma, her mother, was a human, but she\nhated the town and loved the fairies and their ways. That was why she\nhad run away to live by herself in the wood. But Ivra was neither fairy\nnor human; she was both.\n\nNow the fairies are afraid of humans because humans look right through\nthem and do not see them. That upsets the fairies and makes them\nuncomfortable. Of course Helma and Eric were exceptions, for because\nthey had no shadows in their eyes they could see them and play with\nthem. So the fairies accepted those two as one of themselves. Ivra was\ndifferent. Because she was only half fairy, any human could see her\nwhether his eyes were shadowed or not if he would only look hard enough.\nThe dreadful part was that when a human did see her, he was likely not\nto believe in her. He would just think he was day-dreaming, and that the\nlittle girl with the soft eyes, the ash-colored pigtails, and the quick\nfeet was just a piece of his day-dream. Not to be seen is bad enough.\nBut it is much worse to be seen and not believed in. That was why Ivra\nwas afraid of the town. People saw her there and either rubbed their\neyes and looked another way, or laughed.\n\nBut now she was going for her mother, and she could bear anything, even\nthat. She did not hold back long. They ran past the canning factory, and\nEric did not give a glance to it. A little girl looking out over a pile\nof cans saw him, however, and wondered at his warm suit of brown cloth,\nhis leggins, sandals and the cap with wings. She remembered him in rags.\nShe saw Ivra too, and did not rub her eyes and think her a dream. But\nshe did not call to any one in the factory or point, for she knew _they_\nwould think it a dream.\n\nThrough the crooked narrow streets, past the crooked narrow houses,--one\nof them Mrs. Freg's,--they sped faster than the wind! On, on, on,--up\nthe wide avenue through the \"residential section\" where big houses eyed\nthem from proud terraces,--out into the country again they raced.\n\nThere they came to a high gray stone wall, blocking their way, and stood\nstill.\n\n\"You must climb,\" said Wild Star. \"She is in there.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nON THE GRAY WALL\n\n\nIt was a very high wall that hid their mother, and at first glance it\nseemed impossible that they could ever climb it. But Ivra did not stop\nto wonder. She ran up and down, hunting for a foothold. At last she\nreached the end of the wall and disappeared around the corner. Eric and\nthe Wind Creatures followed. When they came up to her she had already\nfound a place where the stones were laid a bit unevenly, one on the\nother, and was half way to the top, clinging with toes and fingers.\n\n\"Bravo!\" cried the Wind Creatures. Eric went up after her, often\nslipping back and bruising and scratching his hands and knees, but as\nresolute as his playmate. At last they gained the top. The Wind\nCreatures had flown up and were waiting for them there, sitting\ncross-legged with their purple wings folded down their backs.\n\nThe wall enclosed the garden of a very rich family. It was a formal\ngarden with straight walks, trellises, fountains, benches and neat\nflower beds laid out in squares and circles, now piled high with\nblossoming snow.\n\nJust as the children reached the top of the wall, the door into the\ngarden from the stern gray mansion behind it opened and through it came\nthree people. First was a very tall lady all wrapped up in furs,--tails\nand heads of the poor animals that had been slain to make them hanging\nfrom her shoulders and down her back. Even the children could see that\nher face was sour in spite of all its smiling. Then came a young man in\na stiff, funny hat, carrying a cane, beating up the snow flowers with it\nas he passed the flower beds. And behind them walked--Helma, with her\ngaze on the ground. That is why they did not know her at first, that and\nher very strange clothes. She was dressed all in velvet and fur, and her\narms up to her elbows were hidden in a huge white muff. She swayed as\nshe walked on weird little high heels and the toes of her boots drew out\nto long points, almost like a goblin's. Her hat was a velvet affair, so\nawkward and heavy it seemed to weigh down her head, and her candleflame\nhair was smothered under it. Is it any wonder that they did not know her\nlike that!\n\nBut when she walked close under the wall and they heard her voice they\nknew her, and the Wind Creatures had to hold Ivra from jumping down and\nthrowing herself into her arms. \"Wait,\" they whispered.\n\nFrom their high place on the wall they could look down on the heads of\nthe three people, and hear all they were saying. They had never learned\nthat it is not fair to listen that way.\n\nFrom all Helma said they could plainly see she was a prisoner. She was\npleading with the old woman. She was saying, \"No, never, never, never,\nin a thousand days and years will I ever be happy here. My place is in\nthe forest. Oh, how these heels bother!\"\n\n\"Silly girl!\" cried the old woman, smiling more than ever, and looking\nmore disagreeable than ever at the same time. \"Your place is where you\nwere born-in a fine house and wearing clothes like other people. Heels\nindeed! Did you expect them to do any thing else but bother? Mine have\nbothered for sixty years, but you haven't heard _me_ complain.\"\n\n\"Neither would I,\" Helma said, \"if I didn't know about other kinds of\nshoes that don't hurt. Those sandals I wore when you caught me didn't\nhurt. Why can't I wear those, at least when I walk in the garden?\"\n\n\"Well, you might,\" began the old woman, a little more kindly, and\nsmiling less, \"if you promise always to put on the high heels before\ncoming into the drawing room--\"\n\n\"No,\" said the young man sharply. \"Let her once into the garden in her\nsandals and she'll climb the wall and be off. I say that we give her no\nchance to escape. After she has been to a hundred or so balls and worn\nthese beautiful and appropriate clothes long enough she'll be glad of\nher luck, and nothing could drag her into the forest. Believe me!\"\n\nNow Helma stopped pleading, and laughed at the young man. \"Do you think\nhigh heels, or even a hat that weighs down my head like this horrid one\ncan keep me much longer from my little daughter, and that dear new\nlittle boy? What they are doing without me all this time--I wonder!\" She\nstopped laughing to sigh.\n\nThe old woman took her hand not unkindly. \"My poor, dear girl,\" she\nsaid, \"how many times must I tell you it is only a dream, that house in\nthe woods and the little girl and boy? They aren't really there at all,\nyou know. You have dreamed them. Come, cheer up. Be a brave girl. We\nhave parties and good times enough here, if you will only get into the\nspirit of them, to make up for all your forest foolishness.\"\n\nHelma answered in a low even voice, that showed well enough how sure she\nwas of the truth of what she was saying--\"No, they are realer than you.\nIvra is realer than all the people in that mansion put together,\ncousins, uncles, aunts, guests, servants and all. She is my little fairy\ndaughter.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the young man.\n\nThe wings of the Wind Creatures on the top of the wall rustled just then\nin a gust of cold north wind. Helma threw up her head as at a familiar\nsound, and her eyes slowly lifted to the faces of the children looking\ndown. For a minute she looked steadily at them without believing, and\nthen it was as though her pale face suddenly burst into song. But the\nold woman and the young man were not looking at her and so they noticed\nnothing. The young man said, \"The neighbors have talked about us enough\nalready for all your queer ideas and doings. So you'll wear no sandals,\nno, nor sleep with your skylight open, as you're always asking, nor go\none step outside the wall until you have come to your senses and are\nmore like other people. So there!\"\n\nBut Helma laughed, her head thrown back, so that the children could look\ninto her happy eyes and see the glow of her short hair under her\ngrotesque hat.\n\n\"Keep your keys, cousin,\" she said, \"and your old skylight keep shut\ntight as tight. I shall find a way out. But my children must be patient,\nand Ivra must teach Eric to keep his face and body clean. They must not\nforget meal-times, and when anything goes wrong, or they think it is\ngoing wrong, they must ask the Tree Man's advice. I will find a way to\nthem soon. They must keep happy and wait.\"\n\nShe said all that slowly and distinctly, her eyes smiling into theirs.\n\n\"What silly talk,\" laughed the sour old lady. \"Just as though you were\nmaking a speech. Well, it must be luncheon time now, and high time we\nwere changing our frocks. Wear your gray velvet, Helma, and don't forget\nto put on stockings to match. There's to be strawberry ice to-day,--and\ngoose to begin with of course. Cook says she has never seen a\ntenderer--\"\n\nThe old lady went on talking about the wonderful luncheon they were to\nhave until they were out of hearing. But the children on the gray wall\ncould see that Helma was going in differently from the way she had come\nout. Her head was high, and she stepped out in her funny high heeled\nboots as though she were walking in sandals. At the little door into the\nmansion she turned and waved her queer great muff to the children and\nthe Wind Creatures, and they heard her laugh.\n\nBut when she was gone, and the door was shut and locked--they heard the\ngreat key scrape--Eric turned joyfully to Ivra. She was staring intently\nat the closed door, her face very pale. Suddenly she buried her head in\nher arms and burst into sobs, hoarse, jerky sobs, the first and the last\ntime Eric was ever to hear her cry. Eric and the Wind Children sat\ncross-legged and waited. Soon she stopped and wiped her face on her\nsleeve.\n\n\"She is locked in, but she _will_ find a way home,\" she said, almost\nlaughing. \"How glad and how surprised she was to see us! It was almost\nas though she had begun to believe all their talk about dreams, until\nshe heard the Wind Creatures' wings!\"\n\nThe Wind Creatures took them back to the forest. Under the giant cedars\nthey said good-by and left them. The children went straight to the Tree\nMan's to tell him the news. He gave them deep bowls of warm milk to\ndrink, and took off their sandals so that their toes might spread and\nwarm in front of the fire.\n\nThen the Tree Girl begged for a story, and Ivra told a World Story about\nthe rivers,--how they go in search of their mother, the ocean, day and\nnight, around mountains and through mountains, and across whole\ncontinents, and never stop until they find her,--and of the myriad\npresents they carry to her,--of the things they see and the things they\ndo, as they flow searching.\n\nIt was a long story. And almost before the end the little story teller\nhad fallen asleep with her head tipped back against the Tree Man's\nchest.\n\nThey spent that night in the tree, and that was good, for a storm had\nrisen outside, and it was bitter cold in the forest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL WICKED WITCH\n\n\nThe next morning before Eric woke Ivra slipped away to play with the\nForest Children.\n\n\"On such wild days as this they usually play indoors, for they're little\nthings and the Snow Witches love to tease them,\" said the Tree Man.\n\n\"Perhaps she'll be telling them World Stories,\" thought Eric, and so he\ndecided to go to the little moss village, too, for though Ivra had told\nhim dozens of World Stories by now, he always wanted to hear more. So\nafter breakfast with the Tree Man and his pretty, shy daughter, he ran\nout in search of Ivra.\n\nIt was indeed a cold morning, blustering and raw. Eric felt chilled\nalmost as soon as he was out of doors. Very soon he lost his way, for he\nhad not been in the forest long enough to grow familiar with landmarks.\nJust when he was beginning to be a bit hopeless and pinched with the\ncold he came to the big fir where the Beautiful Wicked Witch lived. It\nstood green and comforting among all the bare trees of winter.\n\nEric stopped to look, for now he remembered the Beautiful Wicked Witch\nand the bird she had caged in there. He saw a door in the tree trunk\najar, and swinging to and fro with tiny tinkling music. He peeped in,\nand between the swingings caught glimpses of little blue and yellow\nflowers arranged in tight bunches in hanging vases. He could smell their\nsweetness even out there in the cold air.\n\nThen high up in the tree trunk a window opened, and he heard the bird\nsinging. The Beautiful Wicked Witch's face appeared at the window,\nlooking down at him. Her black eyes were sparkling and she nodded\ngood-morning to him as though he were a prince, or at least a grown-up.\nHe could not help nodding back. He liked her very much, she was so\nbeautiful and so friendly.\n\n\"Come in and get warm,\" she called, \"and I'll show you my pretty bird.\"\n\nEric remembered Ivra's warnings, but he wanted to go in so much that he\nfound himself doing it. The door tinkled louder music when he touched\nit, and he pushed his way through, as a bee pushes his way into a\nflower.\n\nThe Witch came running twinklingly down a spiral stairway. She kissed\nhis mouth, took off his winged cap and coat, threw them somewhere out of\nsight, and then he had time to look at her well.\n\nHer gown was green satin, the color of the fir boughs, and her little\nsandals were green satin, too. A green fir frond bound her forehead; and\nher black hair hung loose, soft and electric to her waist. Eric had\nnever seen a prettier person in the world, nor one more kind.\n\nShe took his two hands and began to whirl in a happy dance. Eric danced,\ntoo, for joy and good comradeship. Round and round the room they whirled\nuntil their breath was spent.\n\nThen the Beautiful Wicked Witch took him up the spiral staircase to show\nhim the bird. Up and up they went, until they came to a little room high\nin the tree. The floor was carpeted with yellow satin, and yellow\ncurtains hung at the window. Deep blue mirrors lined the walls, and they\nreflected Eric and the Beautiful Wicked Witch dozens of times over.\n\nThe pretty bird cage, all made of flowers and leaves, hung in the very\nmiddle of the room. Eric stood by it a long time. He put his fingers\nthrough the bars, and stroked the bird's soft feathers. But the gorgeous\nbird paid no attention to him, and did not sing.\n\n\"Why doesn't it hop about?\" he asked the Beautiful Wicked Witch.\n\nThe Witch frowned and pouted. \"It ought to, I'm sure. I like to see it\nhopping. But it would rather sulk. It thinks all the time about the\nforest, and its mate who is out there somewhere. Sometimes it sings,\nthough. Its voice is wonderful.\"\n\n\"Oh, let's open the cage and free him,\" cried Eric.\n\nBut the Beautiful Wicked Witch seized his hand. \"No, no, _no_! It is\n_mine_. I have caged it in my pretty cage. And it fits into the room,\ndon't you think?\"\n\n\"I don't know what you mean,\" said Eric.\n\n\"Why, you fit into it, too,\" said the Witch, looking hard at him. \"Your\nyellow hair and blue eyes match the yellow and blue flowers. Would you\nlike me to make a pretty cage for you and put you into it?\"\n\n\"No, no!\" Eric was suddenly afraid of the Beautiful Wicked Witch.\n\nBut she laughed at his fear, and danced a little dance, humming to\nherself, around the room. Then Eric noticed other cages. The walls were\nlined with them. Some hung from the ceiling, and some stood in corners.\nIn every cage was a bird or animal. The one standing nearest to him held\na pretty gray squirrel, running 'round and 'round on a wheel. He stopped\nevery now and then to peer out through the bars with quick, bright eyes.\nIn the cage next was a tiny brown field mouse. But he had given up\nrunning and playing long ago, and was huddled in the farthest and\ndarkest corner of his cage, his little beady eyes open and watchful.\n\nEric walked around the room, looking at all the poor little animals and\nbirds. One and all peered through their bars with watchful and fearful\neyes. Eric remembered himself in the canning factory and pitied them\nmore than he could ever have done had he not once been a caged little\ncreature too. How he longed to open their doors and the window, and see\nthem scamper and fly away!\n\nBut the Witch had stopped her dancing by the bird cage in the middle of\nthe room, and her little hands were between the bars stroking the bright\nbird-breast. She was saying, \"Sing for us, bird. Sing your nicest song\nfor us. Little Eric wants to hear it.\"\n\nThe bird began to beat its wings and breast against the bars. Again and\nagain its bright breast struck the door. But it did not fly open.\n\n\"It does not want to sing,\" laughed the Beautiful Wicked Witch; \"but it\nmust. Sing, bird, sing! It does you no good to struggle. You can't get\naway. Sing, sing!\"\n\nThen the bird sang. Its song was truly wonderful, high and clear, as\nEric had heard it from outside. But now that he could see the bird caged\nhe did not like the song so well. It was all too sad.\n\nEric wanted to go away then, out of the tree, and never, never see the\nWitch again. He would find Ivra and the Forest Children and forget all\nabout these cages. So he said good-by to the Witch and ran down the\nspiral staircase. But he could not find the door out. He went round and\nround the wall, but there was no sign of a door. It was indeed as though\na flower had let him in and then closed its petals tight.\n\nThe little posies swung in their cases, the bird sang up stairs, and the\nBeautiful Wicked Witch played and danced, and laughed at all his\nsearching. She would do nothing to help him find the door.\n\nAll that day he wandered up stairs and down stairs, or stood at the\nwindow looking down through the green fir branches to the free\nforest-floor. Once the Witch offered to tell him stories. But he wanted\nno stories of caged things, and those were all the stories she knew. The\nWitch did not mind his short answers and dark face. She seemed perfectly\nable to have a good time with herself, and needed no comrades.\n\nAt last night fell. The rooms blossomed with candlelight. In the yellow\nroom up stairs the Beautiful Wicked Witch paraded back and forth before\nthe mirrors, loving her own reflection, smiling at herself, courtesying,\nfrowning, looking back over her shoulder,--lifting her hair to let it\nfall again in electric waves. Eric stood by the window, thoroughly weary\nof his search and loneliness, and watched her. The bird sat in the cage\nand watched her. All the little bright eyes of animals watched her. The\ncandles burned steadily.\n\nHow Eric longed for Ivra now, and their own big friendly room. He\nimagined Ivra in the room there all alone getting her supper over the\nfire, bathing in the fountain bath, opening the windows, and at last\nfalling softly to sleep before the firelight faded.\n\nOh, if there were only a window open here! How hot it was, and how\nover-sweetly scented! The Beautiful Wicked Witch went on posing and\npreening before the mirrors, and seemed to have forgotten all about her\nnew little prisoner.\n\nSo he pulled back the yellow satin curtain, and looked out. It was\nclear, cold starlight. He pressed his face against the window pane and\nstared down into the shadows beneath the fir. And there, standing erect\nin the shadow, her face lifted like a pale little moon, stood Ivra.\n\nShe saw him, but did not wave. She only nodded, as though she knew now\nwhat she had come to make sure of. She stood still for a few minutes,\nuntil Eric almost thought she was frozen in the cold. But at last she\nmoved and disappeared under the fir.\n\nMusic tinkled through the house. The Beautiful Wicked Witch poised on\nher toes, surprisedly looking into the reflection of her own eyes.\n\n\"Some one has come in, for that was the door,\" she said. \"It opens\ninward with music.\"\n\nEric's heart stood still. Had Ivra come into the Witch's house, Ivra who\nwas so afraid of the Witch? He ran down the stairs and the Witch\nfollowed him. Yes, Ivra stood there in the middle of the warm,\nflower-hung room, like a little cold star beam.\n\nBut she did not look at the quaint flowers in their golden vases. And\nwhen the Witch ran to her and kissed her she did not even look at her.\nShe looked only at Eric, and her eyes said, \"I have come to free you.\"\n\n\"Oh, so you did want to try on the pretty frock after all,\" cried the\nWitch, and drew her up the stairs. Eric followed to the yellow room.\n\"No,\" said Ivra. But the Witch brought it out and tried to slip it over\nher head. It was sheerest gossamer web, and shimmered like moonlight.\nAnd the little rosebuds seemed to make it belong to Ivra.\n\nEric forgot all about being a prisoner, and forgot the little caged\ncreatures around the wall. He was delighted with the frock being pushed\ndown on Ivra's shoulders. \"How beautiful you'll be!\" he cried. But Ivra\nwriggled away from it and stood clear. Her rudely made brown frock and\nworn sandals looked odd in that satin room. \"I didn't come to see the\nfrock,\" she said, shaking her head till her pigtails bobbed. \"I came to\nget Eric.\"\n\nThe Beautiful Wicked Witch laughed. \"Get him if you can,\" she said. Then\nshe turned her back on the children and began to braid her black hair\namong the mirrors.\n\nThey went to the window and waited there, watching her.\n\n\"The door doesn't open out,--only in, I think,\" Eric whispered. \"So we\ncan't get out.\"\n\n\"Mother has told me how it would be,\" Ivra whispered back. \"We'll have\nto wait until she's asleep and then find a way.\"\n\nThen Ivra sat down on the floor and began to rock back and forth and\nsing a lullaby. It was a lullaby her mother had sung to her all her\nbabyhood, Ivra sang in a very little voice, almost a murmur only, but by\nlistening Eric and the Beautiful Wicked Witch could catch the words. She\nsang the same words over and over and over.\n\n  Night is in the forest,\n    Tree Mother is nigh.\n  By-abye, by-abye-bye.\n\n  Sleep is in the forest--\n    His feathers brush your eye.\n  By-abye, by-abye-bye.\n\n  Mother's arms are holding you,\n    Forest dreams are folding you.\n  By-abye, by-abye--bye.\n\nThe Beautiful Wicked Witch sat down before the mirrors after a while,\nstill watching her reflection, but listening to the song, too. Her head\ngradually sank lower and lower, first resting chin in hand and at last\nright down on her arm stretched along the floor. Her face lay turned\ntowards the children, and they saw the mirth slowly fade in her great\nblack eyes, the lids drop lower and lower,--and then she was asleep\nsuddenly. Now she looked almost as young as themselves, and like a pale\nchild who has fallen to sleep at its play.\n\nBut the children did not stop to look at her. Once they were sure she\nwas asleep they were off searching for the door. Up and down the stairs\nand all around the rooms they ran on tiptoes. But it was no use, and at\nlast they came back to the window.\n\n\"We must jump,\" whispered Ivra.\n\nEric looked down, and wondered. It was a long way to the ground!\n\n\"The snow is soft beneath the crust,\" Ivra said. \"It will only cut us a\nlittle.\"\n\n\"Let's take the bird,\" Eric said. Ivra ran to it, and opened the cage\ndoor. It hopped onto her finger eagerly, and she held its bill so that\nit would not sing.\n\nEric opened the window. \"I'll jump first,\" he whispered.\n\nBut Ivra said, \"Oh, let's hold hands and jump together.\"\n\nThe Beautiful Wicked Witch felt the cold night air from the window on\nher face, and stirred in her sleep. Her eyelids quivered. So the\nchildren did not wait a minute more. They climbed up onto the window\nsill, Ivra still holding the bird. \"One, two, three,\" she whispered, and\nthey jumped.\n\nOut and down they went like two shooting stars and plunked through the\nsnowcrust. They were up in a second. Their wrists and elbows were a\nlittle bruised and cut, but they were not really hurt at all. But\nstrange and strange, the bird had fluttered near Ivra's hand for that\nsecond, and then flew straight back up and into the open window. It had\nbeen caged so long it did not really want its freedom after all. Eric\ncried out with regret.\n\nBut Ivra seized his hand, and they ran home together through the cold,\nstarlit forest. Before they leapt the hedge into their own garden Eric\nsaw the firelight blossoming in the windows. But he stood still outside\nthe door, after Ivra had gone in, for a time, breathing the cold air and\nthe clear silence right down into his toes.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nIVRA'S BIRTHDAY\n\n\n\"To-morrow is the shortest day in the year,\" Ivra told Eric one night\nafter they were in bed. He did not answer, for he was very sleepy. But\nafter a minute she spoke again. \"It's my birthday too!\"\n\nThen he opened his eyes and sat up, for her voice sounded very queer and\nfar away. He saw that she too was sitting up, her hands folded under her\nchin. \"Mother always had a party for me,\" she said. \"Such fun!\"\n\n\"Perhaps one will happen to-morrow even with her away,\" Eric comforted.\n\"Oh, goody! I do hope so!\"\n\n\"Perhaps. Anyway I'm going to pretend there's a party waiting for me\nto-morrow. You pretend too, Eric, and then even if it doesn't come true\nwe will have had the pretending at least.\"\n\nEric agreed to pretend. It was one of his favorite games. And very soon\nthe two children nestled down under their covers and drifted into sleep\nand dreams of a party.\n\nThey were roused early in the morning by something tapping lightly on\nthe doors and windows. Eric was out of bed first, and saw the Wind\nCreatures, half a dozen or more of them, looking in and beckoning. Their\npurple wings gleamed gold in the early morning sun. Wild Star was\nstanding in the open door.\n\n\"Happy birthday!\" he cried and tossed a snow ball into Ivra's bed. She\npopped to her knees, laughing and rosy with sleep. But then she was\ngrave in a minute. \"There's to be no party, Wild Star,\" she said.\n\"Mother's not back yet. Are you all here for that?\"\n\n\"Yes, we're here for that, and there is to be a party, an all day one\ntoo. Your Forest Friends have seen to that.\"\n\nThe children were radiant with joy. And Ivra whispered to Eric, \"We had\nour pretending, too!\"\n\nThe Wind Creatures would not come in to breakfast, for of course they do\nnot like in-doors at all, and besides, they need very little food. So\nthey played in the garden while the children dressed and ate. Very soon\nthe children were done, though, and came leaping out ready for a day's\njoy.\n\nThe Wind Creatures led them then out through the forest. The Tree Girl\nwas watching for them at her door. It was plain to be seen, when she\njoined them, that she carried something in her arms very secretly under\nher white cloak. But no one mentioned it. Ivra knew it must be a\nsurprise for her birthday. Where the party was to be no one told her,\nand she did not ask. She liked surprises.\n\nThey came to the Forest Children's little moss village. The youngest\nForest Child of all was the only one up so early. He was busily breaking\ndead twigs from bushes to build his morning fire and making up a little\nrhymeless song about Ivra's birthday as he worked.\n\n  This is her birthday,\n  Spring's little daughter--\n  Spring's little daughter--\n  This is her birthday.\n\n  Wake now, wake now,\n  All you Forest Children,\n  Wake for her birthday\n  And tie your sandals on.\n\nWhen he saw them he cried, \"Hurrah! Happy birthday, Ivra!\"\n\nAt his cry all the little windows in the little moss houses opened and\nthere were the tousled heads of the Forest Children, their eyes blinking\nsleepily against the gilded morning light.\n\n\"Thank you, thank you,\" Ivra cried back to the youngest Forest Child.\n\"Hurry and follow.\"\n\nBefore they had gone on their way five minutes more the Forest Children\nwere up with them, tugging at buckles and sandal strings as they ran,\nbegging not to be left behind. Soon they came to Big Pine Hill, a hill\ndeep in the forest with no trees but a giant pine at the top. The Wind\nCreatures had built a slide there by brushing away the snow and leaving\na broad track of shining blue ice. Up under the pine were sleds enough\nfor every one, made all of woven hemlock branches. They needed no\nrunners for the ice was so slippery and the hill so steep _anything_\nwould go down it fast enough. Ivra's Forest Friends must have worked all\nthe day before to make those sleds--and now her shining face and clasped\nhands were reward enough.\n\nShe was the first to try the hill. She threw herself on her sled and\ndown she flashed. At the bottom she tumbled off, and still on her knees\nshouted up to Eric and the others at the top, \"Oh, it's splendid! Come\non!\"\n\nThen the hill was covered with speeding sleds. The Bird Fairies had none\nof their own, for they were so little they might have come to harm on\nthat hill. But they had just as good a time for all of that, catching\nrides with the others, clinging to shoulders or heads or feet as it\nhappened.\n\nEvery one was there, even the Snow Witches who had not been invited.\nThey came whirling and dancing through the forest almost as soon as the\nsliding had begun. Ivra gave them glad welcome in spite of their rough\nways and stinging hair. For she, the only one of all who were there,\nliked them very well and had made them her comrades often and often on\nwindy winter days. And they, who cared for nobody, cared for her. \"She\nis not like anybody,\" they explained it to each other. \"_She is a great\nlittle girl_.\"\n\nBut they would not take Ivra's sled as she wanted them to. They had not\ncome to spoil her fun. Instead they raced down the hill behind her or\nbefore her, pushing and pulling, their stinging hair in her face. But\nthat only made her cheeks very red, and she did not mind them at all.\nThen she tried sliding down on her feet, with the long line of witches\npushing from behind, their hands on each other's shoulders. That was the\nbest fun of all, and almost always ended in a tumble before the bottom\nwas reached. Though the others avoided the witches as much as they could\nthey admired Ivra for such hardy comrading.\n\nBefore noon every one was very hungry. Then the littlest Forest Child\nsaid, \"Follow me. The Tree Girl has gone ahead.\"\n\nIt was true, she had slipped away when no one noticed.\n\nThe littlest Forest Child led them away to a little valley-place where\nhemlock boughs had been spread to make a floor and raised on three sides\nto make a shelter. When they had come close enough for Ivra to see what\nit was perched so big and white in the middle of the hemlock floor she\nstopped and sighed with joy while she clasped her hands.\n\nIt was a beautiful frosted birthday cake with nine brave candles of all\ncolors and burning steadily, just the kind of cake her mother had always\nbaked for her birthdays.--Only last year there had been eight candles.\nShe had not hoped for this final delight. She ran quickly forward and\nwas the first to kneel down by it. The Tree Girl was there waiting, and\nnow Ivra knew it was the cake that she had been carrying so secretly\nunder her cloak.\n\nThe Snow Witches did not follow into that shelter. They have a great\nfear of shelters, you must know, for when forced into them they quickly\nlose their fierceness, and their fierceness is their greatest pride. But\nbefore they left the party one of them came close to Eric, so close that\ntears were whipped into his eyes and quickly froze on his lashes. \"Take\nthis to your little comrade,\" shes said, thrusting a box made of pine\ncones into his hands. \"It's for her to keep her paper dolls in. We\nwitches made it.\"\n\nThen all the witches went screeching and swirling away through the\nforest, and Ivra, Eric and the others settled down to the business of\neating the birthday cake.\n\nBut first the Tree Girl, who is very sensible, insisted that they eat\nsome nuts and apples. Indeed, she would allow no one a bite of the\nwonderful cake until he had eaten at least one apple and twenty nuts.\n\nBefore Ivra cut the cake the others blew out the candles, one after\nanother, and made her a wish in turn for every candle. The Tree Girl\nwished her a bright new year, the Bird Fairies that her mother would\nsoon return, the Wind Creatures that she would keep her gay heart\nforever, the Forest Children that she would become the most famous story\nteller in the Forest World.\n\nAnd then it was Eric's turn. He had never been to a birthday party\nbefore, and never had he made a wish for some one else. So he was a\nlittle puzzled. But at last he had an idea and cried, \"I wish that your\nhair will grow golden and curly before to-morrow morning.\" All\nprincesses Ivra had ever told him about had curly golden hair, and\nthough she had never said it, Eric had suspected for some time that Ivra\nwould like that kind of hair herself. Then he puffed his cheeks and blew\nout his candle, a fat green one. Ivra laughed.\n\n\"The Snow Witches would never let me keep curly hair,\" she said. \"They'd\nwhip it straight in an hour.\"\n\nThat reminded Eric of the pine cone box and he gave it to her and told\nher about it. She was almost as delighted with that as with the cake.\n\nWhat a wonderful cake it was! Such food Eric had never dreamed of, and\nhe was a great dreamer! The frosting was over an inch thick.\n\nThen, of course, Ivra must tell them stories. All the Forest People\nloved her stories. They built a fire to keep from freezing. The Wind\nCreatures sat a little way off where it was cool enough for their\ncomfort, but not too far to hear Ivra's clear voice. This time she told\nall she knew about the birthday of this Earth, one of the most magical\nand splendid and strange of her stories.\n\nBut it was the shortest day in the year, Ivra's birthday, and night fell\nall too soon. Then the Tree Girl, who seldom forgot to be sensible, said\nthey had better go home. The littlest Forest Child was already asleep,\ncurled close by the fire. They roused him gently. Good-nights were\ncalled and a few minutes after, the shelter was deserted, and the fire\nout. And by starlight could be seen many footprints leading away in the\nwhite snow out into all parts of the Forest.\n\nEric and Ivra walked toward home hand in hand. They had to pass the\nmorning's slide on the way. When they came in sight of it they began to\nwalk more quickly and quietly and to look intently. The blue ice shone\nbluer than ever in starlight, but more than the ice shone. Shining\n_people_ were using the sleds and the hill was covered with them.\n\n\"Why, they must be Star People,\" Ivra cried excitedly.\n\nWhen they were quite near they stood to watch.\n\nThe strange Star folk were very silent, never calling and laughing as\nthose who had slid there in the morning had done. Two, a little boy and\na young girl, came spinning down on the same sled and stopped so near\nthat Ivra and Eric might have touched them by leaning forward. But the\nStar-two must have thought the Forest-two shadows, for they paid no\nattention to them at all.\n\nNow that they were so near Eric could see that their hair was blue, like\nthe shadows on snow, and their faces a beautiful shining white. Their\nstraight short garments were blue like shadows, too, and their arms,\nlegs and feet were bare. But they did not seem conscious of the cold.\nEric did not hear them speak, but they looked at each other as though\nthey _were_ speaking, and then suddenly the little boy laughed merrily,\nas though the young girl had just told him something very amusing.\n\nSoon the girl turned and ran away up the hill. But the little boy was as\nquick as she and threw himself on the sled while she never slackened her\npace, but drew him straight and fast up the steep slope.\n\n\"I have never seen them before,\" Ivra whispered to Eric. \"But mother has\ntold me of them. They don't talk as we do you see. They don't _have_ to.\nThey know each other's thoughts. They almost never leave their Stars. Do\nyou think--perhaps, to-night they saw our slide shining, and wondered so\nmuch about it they had to come down? Even mother has never seen them.\nIt was Tree Mother told her.\"\n\nEric was very silent, for he had never seen such beautiful people. The\nlittle boy had had a face like a star, and great shining eyes. The young\ngirl had been clear like the day, and without smiling her face had been\nbrimmed with happiness.\n\nBut now he felt Ivra trembling. She whispered again, \"You know, Eric, it\nis wonderful for us to see them like this. Some day, mother says, we may\nget to be like them!\"\n\n\"And speak without words?\" Eric asked wondering.\n\n\"Yes, and more than that. We may be as _alive_ as they. Now we're only\nForest people, and not all _that_ even--almost dreams. They are _real_!\"\n\nThen she took his hand and drew him away. \"I cannot look any more,\" she\nsaid; \"can you? They are too beautiful!\"\n\nEric put his fingers to his eyes as he walked. \"Yes, it's hard to see\nthe ground now. My eyes ache a little.\"\n\nBut how the children wished their mother were waiting for them in the\nlittle house to hear the tale!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nNORA'S GRANDCHILDREN\n\n\nOne afternoon Eric and Ivra started out for the Forest Children's moss\nvillage to play with them. But when they got there they found all the\nlittle houses deserted: not a Forest Child was to be found. They must\nhave gone into some other part of the forest to play. So Ivra and Eric\nwandered on and on, a little lonely, a little tired of just each other\nfor comrades, till at last they came to the very edge of the\nforest,--and there was Nora's farm, a rambling red brick house, with a\nbarn twice its size behind it. Down in the pasture by the house half a\ndozen Snow Witches were dancing in a circle, now near, now far, all over\nthe pasture, and sometimes right up to the farm-house windows.\n\nIvra clapped her hands and bounded forward. Eric did not follow. He\nstood to watch. When the Snow Witches saw Ivra running to them they\nrushed to meet her. For a minute she was lost in a cloud of blown snow,\nand then there she was dancing in their circle back and forth across the\npasture, and then away, away, away! But before she frolicked quite out\nof sight she turned to look for her playfellow, and beckoned to him.\n\n\"Come on,\" she called. \"We're going to slide on the brook below the\ncornfield.\"\n\nBut Eric did not follow. He did not like the Snow Witches. And just as\nIvra and the Witches drifted out of sight, he thought he heard the\nForest Children laughing. The sound came from the barn. So Eric ran to\nthe door. It was a big sliding door, and now stood open on a crack just\nlarge enough for a child to slip through. Eric went in.\n\nThe barn was tremendously big, a great dusty place full of the smell of\nhay. Ahead of him were two stalls, with a horse in one. But Eric was\nmost interested in the empty stall, for it was from there the laughter\nseemed to come. He stood looking and listening, and then right down\nthrough the ceiling of the stall shot a child, and landed laughing and\nsquealing in the hay in the manger. She sat up, saw Eric and stared. She\nwas a little girl about his own age, freckle-faced, snub-nosed and\nred-haired. She had the jolliest, the nicest face in the world.\n\nEric opened his mouth to say, \"Hello,\" but kept it open, silent in\namazement, for another child had shot through the ceiling and landed\nbeside the girl. This was a boy. He was red-headed, too, freckle-faced\nand snub-nosed. He looked even jollier than the girl.\n\nBefore Eric had closed his mouth on his amazement, \"Whoop!\" and down\ncame another boy. This boy was red-haired, freckle-faced and snub-nosed,\nand he looked jollier than the other two put together, if that were\npossible, for his red hair curled in saucy, tight little ringlets, and\nhis mouth was wide with smiles.\n\nIt was this last one who said, \"Hello, who are you?\"\n\n\"Eric,--who are you?\"\n\n\"Nora's grandchildren, of course. Come up. We're having sport.\"\n\nThe three children ran across the barn to a ladder and scrambled up and\ndisappeared through a trap door at the top. Eric followed. The attic was\nfull of hay in mountains and little hills,--hay and hay and hay. He\nfollowed the children around the biggest mountain, through a tunnel--and\nthere they vanished!\n\nHe found the hole in the stable ceiling and looked down. Not very far\nbelow him was the manger full of hay and red-headed children. \"Look out\ndown there! Whoop!\" cried Eric, and dropped, landing among them.\n\nThen the four laughed heartily together and ran across the barn again,\nup the ladder, around the hay mountain and dropped down the hole. They\ndid that dozens of times until they were tired of it.\n\nThen they played hide-and-go-seek in the hay country, and after that\nBlind Man's Buff in the barn below. The little girl was Blind Man first.\nThey tied a red handkerchief tight over her eyes. Then they ran about,\ndodging her, calling her, laughing at her groping hands and hesitating\nsteps. But after a few minutes she became accustomed to the darkness and\nran and jumped about after them until they had to be very wary and swift\nindeed. Soon she caught Eric and then he was Blind Man.\n\nBy and by they played tag, just plain tag, and Eric liked that best of\nall. Back and forth across the great room they raced,--up the ladder,\nover the hay, through the hole into the stable, round and round, in and\nout, up and down until they were too tired and hot for any more.\n\nThen they lay up in the hay where there was a little window, looking far\nout across the meadows.\n\nEric saw Ivra out there in the first field, wandering around alone and\nnow and then looking up at the barn. She must have heard their shouts\nand laughter. He pointed her out to the other children. \"That is my\nplaymate out there,\" he said. \"Let's open the window and call to her to\ncome up. She'll tell us stories.\"\n\nThe children looked out eagerly. \"But there's nobody there,\" they said.\n\nEric laughed. \"No, look!\" He pointed with his finger. \"Over there by the\nwhite birch. Look! She sees us.\" He waved. \"Quick, help me open the\nwindow.\"\n\nHe could not find the catch. The window was draped with cobwebs and\ndusty with the dust of years. It looked as though it had never been\nopened.\n\nThe little red-headed girl put her hand on his arm. She was laughing.\n\"Don't be silly,\" she said. \"There's no one by the white birch. You're\nimagining.\"\n\n\"Why, look! Of course she's there!\" Eric was impatient. \"She's moving\nnow, waving to us. Of course you see her!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the jolliest of the boys. \"We do see it--faintly. We've seen\nit before too,--a kind of a shadow on the snow. But father says it's\nnothing to mind. Imaginings. Nothing real, just spots in our eyes or\nsomething.\"\n\nThen Eric remembered all that Ivra had told him. She was half fairy.\nPeople could see her if they looked hard enough. But they were not apt\nto believe their own eyes when they had looked. That was dreadful for\nher. She had not said so, but he had guessed it from her face when she\ntold him. Well, well, now he understood a little better. These were\nEarth Children, with shadows in their eyes. Ivra could never be their\nplaymate.\n\nBut _he_ could see her well enough because his eyes were clear. And\npresently he would run out to her and they would go home together. But\njust now it was jolly and cozy here in the barn, and these Earth\nChildren were good fun. He hoped she would wait for him, but if she did\nnot he would find his way alone easily enough.\n\n\"You don't really believe in it, do you?\" the red-headed girl was\nasking. \"If you do,--better not. Grown-ups will laugh at you.\"\n\n\"Nora, your grandmother, won't laugh,\" said Eric. \"She knows Ivra well\nenough, and Helma, too.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" said the jolliest boy. \"But she is queer. We love her, and\nshe's a fine grandmother, I can tell you. And she tells the best\nstories. But she's queer just the same, and she can't fool us.\"\n\n\"Let's go in and get some cookies from her,\" said the other boy. \"They\nmust be done by now.\"\n\nSo up they hopped, and without another look towards the shadow out on\nthe snow by the white birch, jumped down the hole, and ran out of the\nbarn into the kitchen.\n\nNora was there knitting by a table, two big pans of cookies just out of\nthe oven cooling in front of her.\n\nHow good they smelled! Eric had never tasted hot ginger cookies before,\nand when Nora gave him one, a big round one all for his own, he almost\ndanced with delight. He perched on the edge of the table and ate that\none and many another before he was done.\n\n\"This boy, grandma,\" began the red-headed girl.\n\n\"His name is Eric,\" interrupted Nora, handing him another cookie. \"I\nknow him very well.\"\n\n\"Well, he saw It while we were looking out of the barn window! And he\nsaid It was real and his playmate, and he wanted to call It in to tell\nus stories!\"\n\n\"Don't say 'It,'\" said Nora. \"Her name is 'Ivra.' But of course you\ncan't play with her. She isn't an Earth Child. She's a fairy. So don't\nsay anything about it to your father when he comes home to-night. It\nwould make him cross.\"\n\n\"But it doesn't make you cross,\" laughed the jolliest boy. \"And so won't\nyou tell us some stories about it now. You know,--the little house in\nthe wood, the Tree Man, the Forest Children, Helma, Ivra and all the\nrest of it.\"\n\n\"Do tell us a story,\" begged the other two.\n\nSo Nora put down her knitting, and taking the cat on her lap, a great\nsleepy white fellow who had been purring by the stove, she began to tell\nthem stories.\n\nShe told stories about Helma and Ivra, the Wind Creatures, the Snow\nWitches and many more. The children listened eagerly, clapping their\nhands now and then, and at the end of every story asking for more.\n\nBut Eric was lost in wonder. The children thought the stories were not\ntrue,--just fairy stories told them by a grandmother. And Nora had\nevidently long ago given up expecting them to believe. Her black eyes\ntwinkled knowingly when they met Eric's puzzled ones.\n\nAnd all the time Eric had only to turn his head to see Ivra walking out\nthere around in the field, looking at the farm house, waiting for him.\nBut gradually, as the stories went on the little figure out there grew\nmore and more to look like just a blue shadow on the snow, paler and\npaler. Finally he had to strain his eyes to see it at all.\n\nThen he jumped down from the table and said he must go home. His heart\nwas beating a little wildly. For he was afraid Ivra might fade away from\nhim altogether. These red-headed children were fine playfellows. He\nliked them,--oh, so much! He wished he could stay and play with them\nfor--a week. Yes. But he must go now. That blue shadow on the snow\nseemed lonely.\n\n\"Take her some cookies,\" said Nora, filling his pockets. The children\nlaughed at the top of their voices. \"Yes, take some cookies to the\nfairy. But you can eat them yourself and pretend it is the fairy eating\nthem,\" they cried.\n\nNora laughed with them, and so after a minute Eric joined in. But he and\nNora looked at each other through their laughter and nodded\nunderstanding.\n\nWhen Ivra saw him at last come out of the farm house door, she didn't\nwait longer, but ran away into the wood. He overtook her a long way in,\nwalking rapidly.\n\n\"Did you have a good time with the witches?\" he asked.\n\n\"Why didn't you come, too?\" she said\n\n\"Oh, it was too cold. Nora's grandchildren are awfully good fun. We\nplayed hide-and-go-seek, just as we played it at the Tree Man's party.\"\n\n\"Did they laugh at me?\"\n\n\" . . . No, they laughed at me. They thought I was a funny boy.\"\n\n\"To have me for a playmate?\"\n\nThen Eric began to think that Ivra was not very happy. Perhaps she had\nbeen lonely.\n\n\"You're always running off with the Snow Witches,\" he said. \"But I won't\nplay with Nora's grandchildren any more unless they'll let you play too.\nI won't, truly!\"\n\nIvra laughed. And it was like spring coming into winter. \"Yes, play with\nthem all you like! I love them, too. I've often watched them. The\nlittlest boy, the one with the funny curls, laughs at me and stares and\nstares. But the other two . . . they just give me a glance and then forget\nall about me. They don't think I'm real. But they are awfully jolly. You\nplay with them and when you tell me about it afterwards I'll pretend I\nwas there playing too.\"\n\nThen the two clasped hands and went skipping home.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nSPRING COMES\n\n\nOne morning when Ivra woke up she knew spring had come before her eyes\nwere open. But Eric had to go outdoors to make sure. He was sure enough\nwhen he smelled the ground, a good earth smell. Snow still clung to the\ngarden in spots here and there, but the warm sun promised it would not\nbe for long. Something in the sky, something in the air, a smell of\nearth, and a stirring in his own heart told him it was true. Spring had\ncome!\n\nIvra had felt and known it before her eyes were open, and now that they\nwere open, those eyes of hers looked like two blue spring flowers just\nawake. She hopped about in the garden poking and prodding the earth with\na stick, looking for her violets, her anemones, her star flowers. Not a\ngreen leaf was pushing through yet, but oh, how soon there would be!\n\nSuddenly she stopped and stood still looking away into the forest. Then\nshe ran to Eric on the door stone. She cried, \"Mother will come now.\nDon't you feel it? She will come with the spring!\"\n\nEric did feel it. For there was magic in the day. The magic came to him\nin the air, in the smell of the earth, in the new warm wind and said,\n\"Everything is yours that you want. Joy is coming.\" And Mother Helma was\nwhat he wanted. So he felt sure she was on the way.\n\n\"She must have found the key,--or do you suppose she climbed the gray\nwall?\" wondered Ivra.\n\n\"Shall we go to meet her?\" asked Eric.\n\n\"No, no. We must get the house clean and ready for her. We must hurry.\"\n\nAnd then such a house-cleaning was begun as you or I have never seen.\nThe Forest Children had been up at dawn to greet the spring, and now\nthey came running to tell Ivra and Eric about it. When they heard that\nHelma was at last coming back and the house was to be cleaned they\nwanted to help. First it was decided to wash the floor. Pail after pail\nof water from the fountain they splashed on it. Streamlets of water\nflowed into the fireplace and out over the door stone. Out and in ran\nthe Forest Children trying to help, and with every step making foot\nprints on the wet floor, muddy little foot prints, dozens of them and\nfinally hundreds of them.\n\nThen the windows were washed. And because the Forest Children could not\nrun on those they were made bright and clear. But soon the Forest\nChildren pressed their faces against the panes to watch for Helma, and\nas the minutes passed breath-clouds formed there, spreading and\ndeepening until the glass sparkled no more. But no one noticed. No one\ncared. For now they were shining up the dishes, polishing them with\ncloths, and setting them in neat rows in the cupboard.\n\nThen Wild Star appeared, his hands full of spring flowers that he had\nfound deep in the forest in the sunniest and most protected place, the\nvery first spring flowers. \"Helma must have gotten past that wall, now\nit's spring,\" he said; \"and here are some flowers to greet her. See, I\nleft the roots on, the way she likes them. Let's plant them by the door\nstone.\"\n\nThey dug up the earth with their hands, Forest Children's hands, Wild\nStar's hands, Eric's and Ivra's,--and planted the flowers all about the\ndoor stone. Then Wild Star flew away a little languidly.\n\nIvra looked after him. \"He'll soon find the deepest, darkest, coolest\nplace,\" she said, \"make himself a nest of smooth leaves and dream away\nthe summer. Fall and winter are his flying times. We shall see him at no\nmore parties for a while.\"\n\n\"And the Snow Witches? What will become of them?\" asked Eric.\n\n\"They will get into hollows of old trees and under rocks, draw in their\nskirts and their hair, curl up and sleep.\"\n\n\"Good news!\" thought Eric. But he did not say it for he knew Ivra liked\nthe Snow Witches almost best of all to play with and would miss them.\n\nNow the Tree Girl came through the gap in the hedge. She was wearing a\ngreen frock, green sandals, and pussy willow buds made a wreath in her\nhair.\n\n\"Spring, spring!\" she cried as she came up the path. \"We heard the sap\nrunning in our tree all night. Father has gone on a spring wandering,\nand I shall stay within tree no longer for a while.\"\n\n\"We know, we know!\" crowed Ivra. \"_I_ knew before my eyes were open this\nmorning. Eric had to smell the ground first. Imagine! We have been\ncleaning house. Mother will surely come now. Don't _you_ feel it?\"\n\nThe Tree Girl lifted her face up in the new warm wind. Her soft hair\nfloated feather-like. \"Yes, I feel it. She is on the way. Spring brings\neverything.\"\n\nA bird flashed from the trees. It lighted on the hedge for a second and\nwas away again. But Eric had had time to recognize the beautiful bird he\nhad seen caged in the Witch's fir.\n\n\"The caged bird!\" he cried to Ivra. \"It is free! It is flying away.\"\n\nThe Bird Fairies were flying away, too. They were going to meet the\nbirds corning up from the south and teach them their songs as they flew.\nThey came to say good-by to the children.\n\n\"Look for us next winter,\" they called back, as they fluttered off in a\nsilvery cloud.\n\nAnd finally, at high noon, just as Ivra had known she would since early\nmorning, Helma came,--running through the forest, jumping the hedge, and\ngathering Ivra and Eric into her arms.\n\nThey three knelt on the ground by the spring flowers embracing each\nother for a long, long minute.\n\n\"Did you find the key to that gate?\" Eric asked when his breath came\nback, \"Or did they let you come at last.\"\n\n\"I didn't have to find the key, and they didn't let me come. They would\nnever have done that. But the minute I had on a light spring frock I\nfound I could climb the wall easily enough, and so I came running all\nthe way. And now they shall never get me back behind doors again. I am\nfree! I am as free as you, my children!\"\n\nShe held them off and looked into their eyes.\n\nShe was dressed in a brown silk gown, all torn and stained from her\nwall-climbing and rush through the bushes. Her feet were bare, for she\nhad kicked off her funny high-heeled city boots the minute she had\nreached the forest. Her hair had grown to her shoulders and looked more\nlike flower petals than ever. But her face was not brown and serene, as\nEric had first seen it. It was pale and wild.\n\n\"They don't believe in you, children,\" she said. \"They don't believe in\nme, not the me that I am. And from morning to night they made me a\nslave. They made me wear such ugly, hurting things, and then they made\nme dance! Every night we danced in hot rooms and ate strange bad-tasting\nfood. They called dancing like that a _party_. But I could only remember\nour forest parties, and our dancing here under the cool moon.\n\n\"The only glimpse of the forest I had was your Snow Witches, Ivra.\nSometimes I saw them from my bedroom window, 'way out in the fields,\nwhirling and scudding in mad games. And then at last one morning some\nWind Creatures flew by, above the garden wall! But when I called Wild\nStar back and tried to ask him about you, children, as he perched on the\nwall, they came rushing into the garden and dragged me away. They said\nit was time for luncheon, and I must change my frock. But let us forget.\nI am here! It is spring!\"\n\nShe jumped up and stood just as the Tree Girl had stood earlier that\nmorning, her face lifted in the wind. Slowly that face grew calm and\nwarm color flooded it.\n\n\"How nicely cleaned the house is!\" she exclaimed when at last they went\nin. For she did not see the tracks on the floor nor the clouded windows.\nAll she saw was that the children had worked there to make it fit for\nher home-coming.\n\nIvra was proud and glad that she noticed. \"I have made you a spring\nfrock too,\" she said, bringing it out. \"And Eric has made you some\nsandals. He makes fine sandals now!\"\n\nThe frock was a brown smock with a narrow green belt.\n\nThe sandals were well made, and very soft and light.\n\nHelma stripped off the tattered silk frock, the funny thing with its\nlong sleeves and stiff lace collar, and hid it away out of sight. On\nwent the new smock over her head in a twinkling. She stepped into the\nsandals. And there was their mother, the Helma Eric had first seen.\n\n\"The garden now, we must see about that,\" she said in her old quiet way.\nThen they went out into the garden, and Helma began to plan just where\nthere should plant seeds and just what must be done. The children clung\nto her hands, looking up into her face, and would not let her take a\nstep away from them. When she stood still they leaned against her, one\nagainst either side, and wound their arms about her.\n\nIn mid-afternoon, Spring came--not the spring of the year, but Spring\nhimself, the person the season is named for. He was a tall young man,\nwith a radiant face, and fair curls lifting in a cloud from his head.\nWhere he walked the earth sprang up in green grass after his bare feet,\nand flowers followed him like a procession. Helma ran to him, swifter\nthan the children, and he kissed her lips. He lifted Ivra nigh on his\nshoulder for one minute where she thought she looked away over the\ntreetops hundreds of miles to the blue ocean. But it may have been only\nhis eyes, which were very blue, that shee was looking into.\n\nWith him came two Earth Giants. They were huge brown fellows with\nrolling muscles and kind, sleepy eyes. They crouched down at the opening\nin the hedge and waited for Spring to go on with them.\n\n\"Shall we plant the garden, Helma?\" asked Spring.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" cried the children, and Helma said, \"Yes, yes,\" as eagerly\nas they.\n\nSo the Earth Giants came in and plowed it all up with their\nhands,--hands twenty times as large as an Earth Man's! When they were\ndone, the garden was a rich golden color, and right for planting. Then\nHelma pointed out to Spring where she wanted the seeds to be, violets\nhere, roses there, lilies there, pansies there and daisies there. Spring\ngave some seeds to the children and sowed some himself. Helma sat on the\ndoor stone and joyously directed the work.\n\nBy twilight the garden was done, and Spring went away with his Earth\nGiants.\n\nAs he went out through the forest, flowers and green grass followed\nhim--and the next morning even the dullest Earth Person would know that\nSpring had come.\n\nAs for Helma and Ivra and Eric, the house would not hold their joy, and\nso they dragged out their beds and slept that night in the new-plowed,\nsweet-smelling garden.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nSPRING WANDERING\n\n\n\"There goes another,\" said Helma as she stood in the door the very next\nmorning after her return. \"The littlest Forest Child that was, and all\nby himself. He seems rather small to go spring-wandering alone.\"\n\n\"He likes to go alone,\" Ivra answered. She was setting the table for\nbreakfast, and Eric was helping her. \"'Most always he's playing or\nwandering off by himself somewhere.\"\n\nHelma stood watching the little fellow until he had vanished amid the\ndelicate green of the forest morning. Then she tossed back her hair with\na shake of her head and cried gayly, \"Let's go wandering ourselves,\npets. It's good to be home, but we have all our lives for that now.\nLet's adventure!\"\n\nThe children were overjoyed. They did not want to wait for breakfast.\nBut Helma thought they had better, for no one knew where, when or how\ntheir next meal would be. Of course, though, it was hard to eat. You\nknow yourself how you feel about food when you are going on an\nadventure. However the bowls of cereal were swallowed somehow. Then the\nstoutest sandals were strapped on, and the three were ready to set out.\n\nFirst they went to Nora's farm and before they had waited many minutes\nin the shadow of the trees on the edge of the field Nora came from the\ndoor carrying their jug of milk. They ran to meet her and tell her not\nto leave any more milk until they should come back. How glad the old\nwoman was to see Helma. \"I thought spring would bring you,\" she said.\n\"Spring frees everything.\"\n\nThen Helma, Ivra and Eric were off for their spring wandering. It seemed\nas though every one else was wandering, too, for they could hardly walk\na mile without meeting some friend or stranger Forest Person. All gave\nthem greeting, whether stranger or friend, and all looked very glad that\nHelma was in the forest again, for good news travels fast there, and\neven the strangers knew of her home-coming.\n\nIn a secret wooded valley, walking softly to hear the birds and the\nthousand little other songs of earth, they suddenly came upon a strange\nand thrilling sight. A party of little girls and boys all in bright\ncolored frocks, purple, orange, green, blue, yellow, were putting the\nfinishing touches on an air-boat they were making. It was built of\ndelicate leaved branches and decorated with wild flowers. A great anchor\nof dog-tooth violets hung over the sides and kept it on the ground.\n\nWhen they saw Helma and the children coming so silently toward them they\njumped into the boat and crowded there looking like a bunch of larger\nspring flowers. Then they drew in the anchor rapidly. But the little\ngirl sitting high in the back, the one in the torn yellow dress and with\nblowing cloud-dark hair, cried, \"Oh, no fear, it's Ivra and her mother\nand the clear-eyed Earth Child. Want to come, Ivra? We're off spring\nwandering among the white clouds.\"\n\nIvra shook her head and called, \"Not unless three of us can come.\"\n\n\"Too full for that,\" called down the yellow-frocked one, for now the\nboat had lifted softly almost to the tree tops. \"Your Earth Child would\nweigh us down. So hail and farewell. Good wandering!\"\n\nSo the three on the ground stood looking up and waving and calling back,\n\"Good wandering!\" until the green boat had drifted away and away and was\nlost in the spring sky. But for a long time after, there floated down to\nthem in the valley far laughter and glad cries.\n\nThe spring nights were cold, and so at twilight they made themselves a\nshelter of boughs. They slept as soon as it was night and woke and were\noff at the break of dawn. Helma carried sweet chocolate in her pockets,\nand forest friends and strangers offered them from their store all along\nthe way. Sometimes when they were tired or warm with walking they would\nclimb into the top of some tall tree, and there swinging among the cool\nnew leaves, Helma began telling them her World Stories again, while the\nchildren looked off over the trembling forest roof and watched for\nhoming birds.\n\nBut when the hemlock and fir trees began to crowd out the maples and\noaks, Helma said quietly one day, \"We are nearing the sea.\" \"The sea,\"\ncried Eric almost wild with sudden delight. \"Shall we see it? Shall we\nswim in it? Oh, I have never seen it!\"\n\n\"Oh, I saw it from Spring's shoulder,\" Ivra cried--she really thought\nshe had--\"But mother, mother, what a wonderful surprise you had for us!\"\n\nThey began to run in their eagerness. But Helma held them back. \"It's a\nday's journey yet,\" she said. And so they walked as patiently as they\ncould down a long, long slope through dark firs and hemlocks.\n\nIt was noon of the following day when they finally came to the sea. They\nhad struggled through a thick undergrowth of thorned bushes where the\ngreat arms of the firs shut out everything ahead. Then suddenly they\nwere out of it, in the open, on the shore with the waves almost lapping\ntheir toes. It was high tide. The blue sea stretched away to the blue\nsky.\n\nEric's legs gave way under him, and he knelt on the white sand, just\nlooking and looking at the bigness of it, the splendor of it, the color\nof it, and listening to the music of it. Ivra ran right out into the\nfoam brought in by the breakers, up to her waist, where she splashed the\nwater with her palms until her hair and face were drenched with salt\nspray. Helma stood looking away to foreign countries which she could\nalmost see.\n\nBut they were not left long to themselves. The heads of a little girl\nand boy and a young woman appeared over the crest of a great wave, and\nthe three were swept up to the shore. They grabbed Ivra and drew her\nalong with them as they passed, laughing musically. Ivra did not like it\nat first, and sprang away from them the minute she could shake herself\nfree. But when she saw their merry faces and heard them laugh, she\nreturned shyly.\n\nThe children were about Eric's and Ivra's ages, and the young woman was\ntheir mother. The children's names were Nan and Dan, and the woman's\nname was Sally. But though they had Earth names they were of the\nfairy-kind,--called in the Forest \"Blue Water People.\"\n\nJust peer into a clear pool or stream, almost any bright day, and you\nwill be pretty sure to see one of them looking up at you. They are the\nsauciest and most mischievous of all fairies. Only stare at them a\nlittle, and they will mock you to your face with smiles and pouts, and\nwill not go away as long as you stay. For they have no fear of you or\nany Earth People. They follow their streams right into towns and cities,\nunder bridges and over dams. You are as likely to find one in your city\npark as in the Forest.\n\nHelma spoke to Sally, while the children eyed each other curiously. She\nsaid, \"How happy you Blue Water People must be now Spring has freed you\nat last!\"\n\nSally dropped down on the beach, her dark hair flung like a shadow on\nthe sand. Her laughing face looked straight up into the sky. She\nstretched her arms above her head.\n\n\"He came just in time. Another day--and we would have had to break\nthrough the ice ourselves. Truly. We've never had such a long winter.\nWhy, a _month_ ago we began to look for Spring. We lay with our faces\npressed against the cold ice for hours at a time, watching. We could\njust see light through, and shadows now and then.\"\n\n\"And then I saw him first,\" cried Dan, who was listening to his mother.\n\n\"No, I!\" cried Nan.\n\n\"No, no,\" Sallv laughed. \"I heard him, singing, a long way off. And I\ncalled you children away from your game of shells. When his foot touched\nthe ice we danced in circles of joy, and tapped messages through to him\nwith our fingers. The ice vanished under his feet, and our stream rushed\nhither away to the sea. We came with it, and waved him hail and farewell\nas we poured down. Who can stop at home in spring-time? And we had been\nice-bound so long!\"\n\n\"And now we're here,\" boasted Dan, \"I'm going to swim across the sea\nto-morrow,--or the next day!\"\n\n\"You're too little for that. Calm water is best, or little rushing\nstreams,\" warned Sally.\n\n\"What is it like across the sea?\" asked Eric. \"Another world?\"\n\n\"I'll tell you about it in the next story,\" promised Helma. \"And then\nwhen I have told you, Eric, you may want to go across yourself and see\nthe wonders.\"\n\nEric drew a deep breath. \"Yes, you and Ivra and I. In a boat.\" He\npointed to a white sail far out stuck up like a feather slantwise in the\nwater.\n\nIvra clapped her hands.\n\nBut Helma shook her head. \"When you go, it must be alone, Ivra and I\nbelong to the Forest.\"\n\n\"Why, then I don't want to go, ever.\" Eric shook the thought from him\nlike water.\n\n\"Well, let's swim across now,\" Dan shouted, and ran into the waves,\nfalling flat as soon as he was deep enough and swimming fast away. The\nother children followed him, ready for a frolic. You or I would have\nfound that water very cold, but these were hardy children; and one of\nthem all winter had made comrades of the Snow Witches, remember.\n\nThey waded out to the surf and plunged through it, head first. They took\nhands and floated in a circle beyond, rising and falling in the even\nmotion of the rollers. Nan was very mischievous, and soon succeeded in\npushing Eric out, under where the waves broke. When he looked up\nsuddenly and saw the great watery roof hanging over him, he was\nterrified but he did not scream. People who comraded with Ivra could not\ndo that. He shut his eyes tight, and then thundering down came the\nwater-roof, and a second after, up bobbed Eric like a cork, choking and\nsputtering. They were laughing at him, even Ivra. The minute the salt\nwater was out of his eyes he laughed, too, and tried to push Nan into\nthe surf. But she was too quick for him, and slipped away, farther out\nto sea.\n\nThen began a game of water tag. Eric, because he was not such a good\nswimmer as the others, was It most of the time. But Ivra had to take a\nfew turns as well. It was impossible to catch the other two. They moved\nin the water as reflected light moves along a wall, not really swimming\nat all, but flashing from spot to spot.\n\nHelma and Sally lay on the sand in the spring sunshine and talked about\ntheir children.\n\n\"Nan and Dan tear their clothes so,\" sighed Sally, \"I could spend all my\ntime mending.\"\n\n\"I must make little Eric some new clothes,\" said Helma. \"I hope I have\ncloth enough at home.\"\n\n\"Nan is naughty, but she is a darling,\" laughed Sally as Eric was pushed\nunder the surf.\n\nHelma waited to see that he came up smiling and then said, \"Ivra and\nEric never quarrel. They play together from morn till night like two\nsquirrels.\"\n\n . . . They all had lunch together on the shore. The Blue Water Children\ninstead of eating smelled some spring flowers which Sally had found.\nThat is the way they always take their nourishment. Helma turned some\nlittle cakes of chocolate out of her pockets, and though at first it\nseemed like a small luncheon, when it was all eaten they felt satisfied.\n\nAll the afternoon the children played up and down the beach. They found\na smooth round pink sea-shell which they used for a ball. Eric was the\nbest at throwing. It made him happy and proud to excel in something at\nlast. He taught them how to play base ball, which he had once watched\nMrs. Freg's boys playing on Sundays in the back yard. They used a piece\nof drift wood for a bat, and when the shell got accidentally batted into\nthe sea the Blue Water Children fielded it like fishes.\n\nWhen they were tired of ball, the Blue Water Children drew lines on the\nsand for \"hop scotch,\"--a game they had sometimes watched city children\nplaying in a park,--and taught Ivra and Eric about that.\n\nThen they built a castle of sand, and walled it in with sea shells.\nHelma showed them how to make the moat and the bridge, and Sally and she\ntook turns and made up a story about the castle and told it to them.\n\nTowards evening some Earth People came by, near to the shore, in a\nlittle steam launch. There were men and women and several children in\nit. They crowded into the side of the boat towards the shore to stare\ncuriously at Helma and Eric. They could not see the others, of course.\nHelma with her free, bright hair and bare feet looked very strange to\nthem. And they could not understand what Eric was doing with his arms\nheld straight out at each side. He was between Dan and Nan, holding\ntheir hands, and standing to watch. But the Earth People looked right\nthrough the Blue Water Children, or thought they were shadows perhaps.\n\nOne of the men put his hands to his mouth like a megaphone and called to\nHelma, asking her if she did not want to be picked up. They thought her\nbeing there in that wild place with a little boy, alone, and barefooted,\nvery singular. They thought she might have been shipwrecked. But Helma\nshook her head, and so they had to take their wonder away with them. The\nboat swept by.\n\nIvra ran out into the waves waist deep to watch the strange thing. She\nhad never seen a steam launch before, or anything like it. A baby, held\nin his nurse's arms, caught sight of her and waved tiny dimpled hands,\ncalling and cooing. She saw his sparkling eyes, his light fuzzy hair,\nhis little white dress and socks. She ran farther into the water, waving\nback to him and throwing him dozens of kisses. But no one else in the\nboat saw her, and after a minute the baby's attention turned to a sea\ngull flying overhead.\n\nIvra returned to shore, her face shining. There had been no doubt of\nit--the baby had seen her at once, and had had no doubts. He had laughed\nand reached his hands to her. The little Fairy Child almost hugged\nherself with delight. . . .\n\nThey built themselves shelters of drift wood when night fell. Eric's was\njust large enough for him to crawl into and lie still. One whole side of\nit was open to the sea. Soft fir boughs made his bed, and Helma had left\na kiss with him. But he did not sleep for a long while. He lay on his\nside looking out over the star-sprinkled water and up at the\nstar-flowering sky. And he could not have told how or from where the\ncommand had come, but he knew as he looked that he must cross that sea\nand go into the new world beyond it and see all things for himself.\nWorld Stories were good. But they were not enough.\n\nHow he was to go, or how live when he got there--he did not once think\nof that. Just that he _was_ to go filled his whole mind. He forgot that\nhe had said he would not go without Helma and Ivra. He did not think of\nthem at all. He just lay still listening to the sea's command to go\nbeyond and beyond.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nOVER THE TREE TOPS\n\n\nHe was waked by Ivra's joyous cries just at dawn, and rolled out of his\nshelter, rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms and legs. But as soon\nas his eyes were well open he jumped up and uttered a cry of joy\nhimself. For hanging just above the water on the edge of the sea was a\ngreat blue sea-shell air-boat with blue sails; and the Tree Mother stood\nin it, talking to Helma and Ivra who had run down to the water's edge.\n\nThe boat and the sails were blue. Tree Mother's gown was blue. The sea\nand the sky were blue. Tiny white caps feathered the water. Tiny white\nclouds feathered the sky. And Tree Mother's hair was whiter and more\nfeathery than either. Her eyes were dark like the Tree Man's, only\nkeener and softer, both. And in spite of her being a grandmother her\nface was brown and golden like a young out-of-door girl's, and she was\nslim and quick and more than beautiful. Eric stood beside Ivra, his face\nlifted up to the Tree Mother's, aglow and quivering.\n\n\"She is going to take us home,\" Ivra said softly.\n\nThen Tree Mother turned the boat, and it drifted in and down on the\nsand. The children and Helma climbed in. The Tree Mother said very\nlittle on the long ride, but her presence was enough. The three were\nalmost trembling for joy, for the Tree Mother's companionship is rare,\nand one of the splendidest things that can happen to a Forest Person.\n\nThe minute they were in the boat, it shot up and away towards home.\n\n\"Where are the Blue Water Children?\" Eric cried, suddenly remembering\ntheir playmates of yesterday.\n\n\"Have you been playing with Blue Water Children?\" asked Tree Mother.\n\"They are gypsy-folk and you never know where you will find them next.\nThey are probably miles away by now.\"\n\n\"Faster, faster, Tree Mother,\" begged Ivra, who was hanging over the\nside of the boat and losing herself in joy with the motion and height.\n\n\"Faster?\" said the Tree Mother. \"Then take care! Hold on!\"\n\nThe boat shot forward with a sudden rush. The spring air changed from\ncool feathers to a sharp wing beating their faces. Eric and Ivra slipped\nto the floor and lay on their backs. They dared not sit up for fear of\nbeing swept overboard. They could see nothing but the sky from where\nthey lay, but they loved the speed, and clapped their hands, and Ivra\ncried, \"Faster, faster!\"\n\nThe Tree Mother laughed. \"These are brave children,\" she thought. \"Shut\nyour eyes then,\" she said, \"and don't try too hard to breathe.\"\n\nThey swept on more swiftly than a wild-goose, so swiftly that soon the\nchildren could neither hear, speak nor see. And then at last they were\ntraveling so fast that it felt as though the boat were standing\nperfectly still in a cold dark place.\n\nGradually light began to leak through their shut eyelids, the wing of\nthe wind beat away from them, and the boat rocked slower and slower in\nwarm, spring-scented air. But in that brief time, they had traveled\nmany, many miles.\n\nNow when the children leaned over the side, they saw that they were\nsailing slowly over their own Forest. The tree tops were like a restless\ngreen sea just a little beneath them. They flew low enough to hear bird\ncalls and the voices of the streams.\n\nIt was then they suddenly noticed that the littlest of the Forest\nChildren was there curled up fast asleep at Tree Mother's feet. Ivra\ncried to him in surprise, and he woke slowly, stretching his little\nbrown legs, shaking his curly head, and lifting a sleepy face. He was\npuzzled at seeing others beside Tree Mother in the boat. He had been\nriding and awake with her all night up near the stars, and had dropped\nto sleep as the stars faded.\n\nShe bent now and took his hand. \"I picked these wanderers up at dawn,\"\nshe said, \"and now we are all going back together. We are well on the\nway.\"\n\nThey had left the forest roof and were sailing over open country,--a\nshort cut, Tree Mother explained.\n\n\"Oh, look,\" cried Ivra excitedly, almost tumbling over the edge in her\nendeavor to see better, \"isn't that the gray wall off there?\"\n\nYes, it was the gray wall, the gray wall that had prisoned their mother\nall winter. The boat went slower and slower as they neared it and then\nalmost hung still over the garden. The garden was full of people, having\nsome kind of a party, for many little tables were set there with silver\nand glass that shone brilliantly in the sun. Servants were hurrying back\nand forth carrying trays and their gilt buttons sparkled almost as much\nas the silver.\n\nBut how strange were the people! Eric and Ivra and the littlest Forest\nChild laughed aloud. They were standing about so straight and stiff,\nholding their cups and saucers, and their voices rising up to the\nair-boat in confusion sounded like a hundred parrots.\n\n\"Why don't they sit down on the grass to eat?\" wondered the littlest\nForest Child. \"And why don't they wash their feet in the fountain? They\nlook so very hot and walk as though it hurt!\"\n\n\"Sitting on the grass and washing their feet in the fountain is against\nthe law there,\" Helma said.\n\nBut neither Ivra nor the littlest Forest Child knew what \"against the\nlaw\" meant. Eric knew, however, for he had lived nine years, remember,\nwhere most everything a little boy wanted _was_ against the law.\n\n\"But why do they stay?\" Eric asked.\n\nHelma looked a little grave. \"Why did you stay, dear, for nine long\nyears?\"\n\nHe thought a minute. \"I hadn't seen the magic beckoning,\" he answered\nthen.\n\n\"Neither have they,\" she said, \"and perhaps never will, for their eyes\nare getting dimmer all the time.\"\n\n\"But how can they _help_ seeing it?\" cried the littlest Forest Child.\n\"See, all around the garden!\"\n\nIt was true. All around the garden the tall trees stood and beckoned\nwith their high fingers, beckoned away and away with promise of magic\nbeyond magic. But the people in the garden never lifted their eyes to\nsee it. They were looking intently into their tea cups as though it\nmight be there magic was waiting.\n\n\"They are prisoners,\" said Tree Mother, \"just as you were, Helma, with\nthis one difference. You were locked in, but they have locked themselves\nin and carry their keys like precious things next their hearts.\"\n\nHelma sighed and laughed at once. Then she leaned far out and tossed a\ndaffodil she was carrying down on the heads in the garden, shaking her\nshort, flower petal hair as she did it--she had cut it before starting\non the adventure--in a free, glad way.\n\nNo one looked up to see where the flower had dropped from. The people\ndown there were not interested in offerings from the heavens. So the\nboat sailed on. Away and away over the canning factory they drifted,\nwhere the little girl looked out from her window and up, and waved her\nhands. \"What are you waving at like that?\" a man asked who was working\nnear. \"Oh, just a white summer cloud,\" she said. For she knew very well\nhe did not want the truth. And I might as well tell you here that that\npale little girl was a prisoner who had not turned the lock herself, and\ndid not carry the key next her heart. Others had done that before she\nwas born. And she had seen the beckoning in spite of the lock and now\nwas only waiting a little while to answer it.\n\nThe children were glad to find the forest roof beneath them again. It\nwas noon when they sank down in the garden at their own white door\nstone. Tree Mother left them there and flew away with the littlest\nForest Child, the one who liked to wander alone by himself.\n\nNora was in the house when they ran in. She had cleaned it with a\ndifferent cleaning from what it had had for Helma's first return. There\nwere no little foot prints on the floor now, and the window panes shone\nlike clear pools in sunlight. Three dishes of early strawberries and\nthree deep bowls of cream were standing on the table before the open\ndoor. And then besides there was a big loaf of golden-brown bread.\n\n\"I thought you would be hungry,\" said Nora, pointing to the feast.\n\nThey were hungry indeed, for they had had nothing at all to eat since\nyesterday's lunch of chocolate. They very soon finished the strawberries\nand cream, and a jug of milk besides.\n\n\"You are a good neighbor, Nora,\" Helma said gratefully.\n\nAll Nora wanted in return for her labor and kindness was the story of\ntheir adventure. She listened eagerly to every word. \"I shall tell this\nto my grandchildren,\" she said when the story was done, \"and they will\nthink it just a fairy tale. They'll never believe it's fairy truth! Oh,\nif they would only stop pretending to be so wise they themselves might\nsome time get the chance of a ride over the tree tops with Tree Mother.\nBut they never will. Come play with them again sometime, Eric. They\noften talk about you.\"\n\n\"I'll come to-day and bring Ivra if they'll play with her, too!\"\n\nBut Nora shook her head as she went away. \"They don't believe in Ivra.\nHow could they play with her? Their grandmother can teach them nothing.\nBut they'll like the story of this adventure none the less for not\nbelieving it.\"\n\nWhen she was gone the three took the dishes into the house and washed\nthem. Then they went out and worked in the garden until dusk.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nTHE JUNE MOON\n\n\nNow every day Eric was becoming acquainted with strange Forest People:\nthose who had hidden away from winter in trees, and those who were\nwandering up from the south along with the birds, and Blue Water People,\nof course, all along the Forest streams. The Forest teemed with new\nplaymates for him and Ivra.\n\nHide-and-go-seek was still the favorite game. And now it was more fun to\nbe \"It\" than to be hiding almost, for one was likely to come upon\nstrangers peeping out of tree hollows, swimming under water, or swinging\nin the tree tops, any minute. When the person who was \"It\" came across\none of these strangers he would simply say, \"I spy, and you're It.\" Then\nhe would draw the stranger away to the goal, where he usually joined the\ngame and was as much at home as though he had been playing in it from\nthe very first.\n\nThe day that Eric found Wild Thyme so was the best of all,--or rather\nshe was the best of all. And that was strange, for when he first spied\nher he did not like her at all. Her dress was a purple slip just to her\nknees, with a big rent in the skirt. Her hair was short and bushy and\ndark. And her face was soberer than most Forest People's faces. She was\nsitting out at the edge of the Forest on a flat rock, her chin in her\nhands, and she did not look eager to make friends with any one.\n\nBut he cried, \"I spy! You're It!\" just the same. She did not lift her\neyes. She only said, \"You must catch me first. I am Wild Thyme, and that\nwill be hard!\"\n\nEric laughed, for she was not a yard away from him. And he sprang\nforward as he laughed. But she was quicker than he. She had been at\nperfect rest on the rock, her chin in her hands, and not looking at him,\nbut the instant he jumped she was off like a flash, a purple streak\nacross the field.\n\nBut Eric did not let his surprise delay him. He ran after her just as\nfast as he could, and that was very, very fast, for running with Ivra\nhad taught him to run faster than most Earth Children ever dream of\nrunning. Soon, Wild Thyme slowed down a little, and faced him, running\nbackward, her bushy hair raised from her head in the wind of her\nrunning, her little brown face and great purple eyes gleaming\nmischievously. Eric sprang for her. She dodged. He sprang again. She\ndodged again. He cried out in vexation and sprang again, straight and\nsure. He caught her by her bushy hair as she turned to fly.\n\nAnd a strange thing happened to him in that second, the second he caught\nher hair. Instead of Wild Thyme and the sunny field, he was looking at\nthe sea. He was standing on the shore, looking away and away, almost to\nforeign lands. Now ever since that spring night on the shore he had been\nthinking of the sea and longing with all his might to cross it and see\nforeign lands for himself. Only that had seemed impossible, and\nsomething he must surely wait till he was grown up to do. But now, in a\nflash, as his fingers closed on Wild Thyme's hair, he knew that he could\nindeed do that, and anything else he really set his heart on.\n\nNo girl, even a fairy, likes to have her hair pulled. So Wild Thyme was\nangry. She pinched Eric's arm with all her strength. Then _he_ was\nangry. And so they stood holding each other, he her by the hair, and she\nhim by the arm, staring hotly into each other's faces. But slowly they\nrelaxed, and becoming their own natural selves again, broke into\nlaughter.\n\n\"You'll play with us, won't you?\" Eric asked.\n\n\"Of course,\" she said, \"and I _am_ It!\" And away they ran to find the\nothers, Ivra, the Tree Girl, the Forest Children, and Dan and Nan. When\nthose saw who it was Eric had captured they ran to meet her, shouting\ngayly, \"Wild Thyme! Goody! Goody! Hello, Wild Thyme!\" They seemed to\nhave known her always. She and Ivra threw their arms about each other's\nshoulders and danced away to the goal.\n\nWild Thyme was a wonderful playfellow. She was so wild, so free, so\nstrong, so mischievous. And when the game was ended she invited them to\na dance that very night. \"It's to be around the Tree Man's Tree,\" she\nsaid. \"And all come--come when the moon rises.\"\n\n\n . . . Perhaps Eric's good times in the Forest reached their very height\nthat June night of the dance. He had never been to a dance before, and\njust at first he did not think there would be much fun in it. But Ivra\nwanted him to go, and offered to show him about the dances. So they ran\naway from the others to the edge of the field where Eric had discovered\nWild Thyme, and there on the even, grassy ground Ivra showed him how to\ndance. It was very easy,--not at all like the dances Earth Children\ndance. It was much more fun, and much livelier. The dances were just\nwhirling and skipping and jumping, each dancer by himself, but all in a\ncircle. Eric liked it as well as though it had been a new game.\n\nLate that afternoon Helma and Ivra and Eric gathered ferns and flowers\nto deck themselves for the evening. They put them on over the stream,\nwhich was the only mirror in the Forest.\n\nHelma made a girdle of brakes for herself, and a dandelion wreath for\nher hair. She wove a dear little cap of star flowers for Ivra, and a\nchain of them for her neck. Eric crowned himself with bloodroot and\ncontrived grass sandals for his feet. But the sandals, of course, wore\nthrough before the end of the first dance and fell off.\n\nThey had a splendid supper of raspberries and cream, which they sat on\nthe door stone to eat, and then told stories to each other, while they\nwaited for the moon to rise. It came early, big and round and yellow,\nshining through the trees, flooding the aisles of the Forest with silver\nlight until they looked like still streams, and the trees like masts of\ngreat ships standing in them.\n\nThen the three hurried away to the Tree Man's. They ran hand in hand\nthrough the forest aisles, their faces as bright to each other as in\ndaylight. But before they even came in sight of the tree they heard\nmusic.\n\n\"Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmm, thrummmmmmmmmmmm.\" Very soft, very\ninsistent, very simple and strangely thrilling. When they came to the\ntree, there were the Forest Children, who had come early, whirling\naround in a circle, and the Tree Girl in the center of the circle making\nmusic with a tiny instrument she held in one hand and touched with the\nfingers of the other.\n\nSoon Forest People began arriving from every direction. There were the\nBlue Water Children, bright pebbles around their necks, and white sea\nshells in their blue hair. The Forest Children were crowned with\nmaidenhair fern. The Tree Girl was the most beautiful of all in her\nsilver cobweb frock and her cloudy hair. The Tree Man stood still in the\nshadow, but his long white beard gleamed out, and his deep eyes. Wild\nThyme wore a rope of the flower that is named for her around her neck,\nbut there was a new rent in her purple frock and her legs were scratched\nas though she had remembered her dance only the last minute and come\nplunging the shortest way through bushes, which was true.\n\nThrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmmmm.\n\nEvery one except the Tree Man was dancing, bewitched in the moonlight,\nall over the grassy space around the great tree. The grass was cool and\nrefreshing under Eric's bare feet, and he often dug his bare toes into\nthe soft earth at its roots as he leapt or ran just to make sure he was\non earth at all. For he felt as though he were swimming in moonlight, or\nat least treading it.\n\nThrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmmmm.\n\nWhen the Tree Girl's music stopped between dances, then it would go on\nin Eric's head. It was just the sound of the night after all. Once Eric\nnoticed that the Beautiful Wicked Witch was dancing next to him in the\ncircle but he was not afraid of her there with the others, and in bright\nmoonlight. And she was plotting no ill. Her face was sparkling with\ndelight and she had utterly forgotten herself in the dance.\n\nWhen the great moon hung just above them, and shadows were few and far\nbetween, the Tree Mother came walking through the Forest, quieter and\nmore beautiful than the moon. Wild Thyme ran to her and laid her bushy\nhead against her breast. For Wild Thyme only of all the Forest People\nloved her without awe. The Tree Mother put her hand on Wild Thyme's head\nand stood to watch the dancing. Her robe gleamed like frost, and her\nhair was a pool of light above her head.\n\nThrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmmm.\n\nWild Thyme jumped back into the dance and the Tree Mother stood alone.\nBut although she stood as still as a moonbeam under the tree, she made\nEric think of dancing more than all the others put together. It was her\neyes. The thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmmmm was in them, and the rest\nof that night Eric felt as though the music-instrument the Tree Girl was\nswinging was silent, and that all the music flowed from Tree Mother.\n\nBut Eric, after all, was only an Earth Child, and his legs got very\ntired in spite of the music and the moonlight. So at last he slipped out\nof the circle, and stumbling with weariness and sleepiness went to Tree\nMother. She picked him up in her arms, and the minute his head touched\nher shoulder he was sound asleep, the music at last hushed in his head.\n\nWhen he woke it was summer dawn. The birds were flitting above in the\ntree-boughs and making high singing. He was alone, lying beneath a\nsilver birch, his head among the star flowers.\n\nHe knew that Helma and Ivra had not wanted to wake him, but had gone\nhome when the moon set, and were waiting breakfast for him there now. So\nhe jumped up and ran home through the dew.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nTHE DEEPEST PLACE IN THE WOOD\n\n\nIt was on the hottest day of all the hot days of summer that Eric found\nthe deepest place in the Forest. He wandered into it while he was\nlooking for Wild Thyme. Ivra had been no good to him that day. She was\nusually ready to play in any weather; but on this, the hottest day of\nthe year, she stayed indoors, where it was a little cooler, and lying on\nthe settle she drew paper dolls on birch bark, and afterwards cut them\nout. Yes, even fairy children love paper dolls and Ivra loved them more\nthan most. Eric wanted her to go swimming in the stream, but he teased\nher to in vain, for she was entranced with the dolls and would hardly\nlift her eyes from them.\n\nHelma was swinging in a vine swing she had made for herself high in a\ntree above the garden. One of the Little People was perched on a leaf\njust over her head, and they were chattering together like equals. Their\neager voices floated down to Eric standing disconsolate near the door\nstone. But Helma usually knew when her children were in trouble, no\nmatter how tiny the trouble, and so before Eric had stood there long or\ndug up more than a bushel of earth with his bare toes, she leaned over\nthe nest and called to him.\n\n\"Why don't you go and play with Wild Thyme? She doesn't mind the heat.\nEvery one else is staying quiet till sundown.\"\n\nWild Thyme was a happy thought, and Eric walked away in search of her.\nBut she was in the very last place he would have thought to look on such\na scorching day, and that is how he missed her. She was lying full\nlength on the hot burnt grass in the field at the Forest's edge, loving\nthe heat and sunshine, which covered her like a mantle. If Eric had seen\nher it is probable he would not have known her or stopped to look twice.\nHe would have thought her just a little patch of the flower that is\nnamed for her.\n\nSo he wandered on and on, looking high and low and all about for her,\nand he went deeper and deeper into the Forest. The deeper he went the\ncooler it became, for the forest roof kept out the sunshine. The light\ngrew dimmer and dimmer too. Eric had never been so far in before and\neverything was strange to him.\n\nHe saw no Forest People except a little brown goblin who peered at him\nfrom some underbrush and then scuttled away into the darkness of denser\nbrush. Eric had never seen a goblin before, but he had no fear of\ngoblins, and so this one did not bother him at all. He heard others\nscuttling and squeaking, and one threw a chunk of gray moss at him. He\nstopped and picked it up and threw it back with a laugh in the direction\nit had come from.\n\n\"Come out and play, why don't you?\" he called. \"I know where there's a\nfine swimming pool.\" But there was no answer to his invitation. Instead\nthere was sudden and utter silence. He was disappointed, for he did want\na playmate, and he had almost given up looking for Wild Thyme.\n\nAfter walking for a long while he came at last to one of the windings of\nthe Forest stream, and gratefully stepped into the shallow, clear water,\ndark with shadows. His feet were burning, and his head was hot. So he\ndrank a long drink of the cold, delicious water, ducked his head, and\nfinally washed his face. Then he waded on with no purpose in mind now\nbut just to keep his feet in the water.\n\nIt was so he came to the deepest place; where not even Ivra had ever\nbeen. It was almost cool there, and more like twilight than early\nafternoon. And right in the deepest place, in a nest of smooth leaves,\nwith his feet in the water, lay Wild Star. When Eric first caught sight\nof him he thought he was asleep, for his wings were lying on the leaves\nhalf folded and dropped, and his knees were higher than his head. But\nwhen Eric went close enough to see his eyes he knew that he was very\nwide awake, for they were wide open, watchful and intent,--and purple\nlike the early morning. Such wide-awake eyes were startling in such a\nsleepy, still place. Eric expected him to spread his wings in a flash\nand dart away. But the wings stayed half open, purple shadows on the\nleaves, and Wild Star did not even raise his head. Only his eyes greeted\nEric.\n\nBut Eric knew without words that Wild Star was glad to see him. So he\nstepped up out of the water and stretched himself on a mound of silvery\nmoss near by. With his chin resting in his palms and his elbows\nsupporting, he faced the Wind Creature, his clear blue eyes open to the\nintent purple ones.\n\nIt was Wild Star who spoke first.\n\n\"I thought, little Eric, you would have crossed the sea before this, and\nbe out of the Forest. I expected to find you next fall on the other side\nof the world.\"\n\nEric was amazed, for he had not said one word of his dream about that to\nany one. \"How did you know I wanted to go?\" he cried.\n\n\"Oh, you are an Earth Child, after all, and I knew you would want to be\ngoing on, as soon as you saw the sea.\"\n\n\"But _why_ do I want to go on?\" asked Eric, his face clouding with the\npuzzle of it. \"I am so happy here, and Helma is my mother now. There\ncan't be another mother across the sea for me. And if there were I\nwouldn't want her,--not after Helma! No, Helma is my only mother, and\nIvra is my comrade. And still I want to leave them,--and go on and away\nover there. It is very funny.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Wild Star. \"It isn't funny. You are a growing Earth Child,\nnot a fairy. It is your own kind calling you. It is the music of your\nhuman life.\"\n\n\"I don't know what you mean,\" said Eric.\n\n\"It is like this: you know when you begin to sing a song, you go on and\non to the end without thinking about it at all. It is the theme that\ncarries you. Well, a human life is made like a song,--it carries itself\nalong. You do not stop to think why. It can't stop in the middle, on one\nchord, for long. Yours now is resting, on a chord of happiness. But soon\nit will go on again. You want it to. Life in the Forest, though, isn't\nlike that. Here it is music without any theme, like the music we dance\nto. Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmm. But there is more than that to an\nEarth Child's life. It runs on like this stream. The stream is happy\nhere in the Forest, too, but it goes on seeking the sea just the same.\"\n\nThere was a long stillness while Eric looked down into the green depths\nof the water. At last he asked, \"But how could I ever get across the\nsea? And when I got there how could I get back?\"\n\n\"Time enough to think about getting back when you are there,\" laughed\nWild Star. \"But as to getting there, Helma is the one to tell you that.\nShe has been an Earth Child, too, you know. She felt just as you did,\nthat spring night on the shore. She has felt it many times. It is only\nIvra that keeps her in the Forest. Ivra docs not belong out in the world\nof humans, and Helma will never leave her. But she will understand\nyour longing. All you have to do is tell her.\"\n\nEric clapped his hands, a habit he had caught from Ivra. \"Oh, I shall\ncross in a ship,\" he cried, \"and see all the foreign lands. And when I\ncome back, think of the World Stories I shall have to tell Helma and\nIvra!\"\n\nHe sprang up in his joy, and felt as though he had wings on his\nshoulders like Wild Star, and had only to spread them out to go beating\naround the world. For a second the Wind Creature and the Earth Child\nlooked very much alike. And indeed, the only difference was that Wild\nStar had to wait for the wind, and Eric need wait for no wind or no\nseason. His wings were _inside of his head_, but they were as strong as\nWild Star's. And he had only to spread them and lift them to go anywhere\nhe wanted.\n\nNow he wanted to get back to Helma and tell her all about it. Wild Star\npointed him the shortest way, and off he ran, jumping the stream and the\nmoss beds beyond, and disappearing into the underbrush.\n\n\"I'll look for you next time the other side of the world!\" Wild Star\nshouted after him.\n\nIt was twilight when he reached home. Helma and Ivra were sitting on the\ndoor stone, hand in hand. They made room for Eric. But he did not\nsnuggle up. He stayed erect, his face lifted towards the first dim\nstars, and told Helma all about his wanting to go away from them out\nthrough the Forest and across the sea, and all that Wild Star had said\nabout music and Earth People's lives. And he told her, too, of the\nvision of success he had had when he caught Wild Thyme that first day by\nher bushy hair.\n\nHelma listened quietly, and said nothing for many minutes after he was\nthrough. But at last she spoke, putting a hushing hand on Eric's\ndreamful head.\n\n\"I understand,\" she said. \"I knew you would want to go on sometime. And\nI have a friend across there who will help us. He has a school for boys\nand I got to know him very well behind the gray stone wall. He asked me\nabout the Forest and you children. And he said that Eric sometime would\nsurely want to go back to humans, and when he did he would help him. He\nunderstands boys. It is to him you had better go, Eric, and when you are\nreally ready I will tell you how, and start you on your way.\"\n\nEric sighed with contentment, and leaned his head against Helma's\nshoulder.\n\nBut Ivra stayed at her mother's other side, as still and silent as a\nshadow. Soon the fireflies began their nightly dance in the garden. But\nIvra did not go darting after them as usual to make their dance the\nswifter. And Eric's head was too full of dreams and his eyes too full of\nvisions of the sea to notice them at all.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nMORE MAGIC IN A MIST\n\n\nIndian summer had come round again before Eric really made up his mind to\ngo. The flowers were asleep in the garden, and there was a steady,\ngentle shower of yellow leaves down the Forest. That morning when he\nwoke the little house seemed suspended in a golden mist. As he stood in\nthe doorway he felt as though it might drift away up over the trees and\ninto space any minute. But after a little he knew it was not Helma's\nlittle forest house that was to go swinging away into space and\nadventure,--it was himself. And suddenly he wanted to go _then_,--to the\nsea and over and beyond. He called the news in to Helma and Ivra, who\nwere still within doors. Helma came swiftly out to him.\n\n\"The trees are beckoning again, mother,\" he cried. \"The way they did a\nyear ago when I first came here. Now it is just as Wild Star said. The\nmusic is beginning to go on. There's magic out to-day. Oh, what made\nWild Star know so much?\"\n\n\"Sit down,\" said Helma. She took his hand and drew him down beside her\non the door stone. Then she held it firmly while very slowly and\ndistinctly, but once only, she gave him directions about how to go,\nwhere to go and what to do, so that he might follow the magic.\n\nEric sat and listened attentively, in spite of the high beating of his\nheart, and the magic working in his head. As soon as she was done, he\nwanted to go right away that minute. For even in his happiness he knew\nthat saying good-by to all his friends in the Forest would be too sad a\ntask. They did not say good-by when they went on long adventures, or\nfollowed summer south. They simply disappeared one day, and those who\nstayed behind forgot them until next season. So Eric would do as they.\n\nOnly last week Helma had made him a warm brown suit for the coming\nwinter. The new strong sandals on his feet he had made himself. His cap\nwas new, too, and Helma had stuck two new little brown feathers in it as\nin the old one; so he still had a look of flying. There was really\nnothing to delay his departure further. Helma called to Ivra, and she\ncame out slowly. There was no need to explain things to her, for she had\nheard everything.\n\nHelma lifted Eric's chin in her palms and looked long and earnestly at\nthe child she was letting go away from her all alone out into the queer\nworld of Earth People. She picked him up in her strong arms then, as\nthough he were a very little boy, and kissed him. She ran with him to\nthe opening in the hedge and set him down there, laughing.\n\n\"Run along now 'round the world,\" she said. \"And when you come back\nbring a hundred new World Stories with you!\"\n\nEric laughed too, and promised and stood on tiptoes to kiss her again.\nHe stroked her short flower petal hair, and kissed her cool brown cheek\nover and over. But he did not cling to her. And he did not say another\nword, but ran to catch up with Ivra who was to walk with him until noon\nand had gone on ahead.\n\nThe children did not scuffle through the banks of leaves, or jump and\nrun and burst into play as they were used to doing. They walked steadily\nforward, saying very little, neither hurrying nor delaying their steps.\nOnce when Eric's sandal came untied Ivra knelt to fix it, for she was\nstill more skillful with knots than he.\n\nBut when the sun showed that it was noon, Ivra's steps grew slower and\nslower, dragged and dragged, until at last she stood still in a billow\nof leaves.\n\n\"I have to go back now,\" she said.\n\nIn a flash all the magic swept out of the day for Eric. He knew he could\nnever say good-by to Ivra, so he stayed silent, looking ahead into the\nfluttering, golden forest. But even as he looked the trees began to\nbeckon with their high fingers, and 'way away, down long avenues of\ntrees he _almost_ glimpsed the sea.\n\nIvra threw her arms about his neck and kissed him. \"Good-by, comrade,\"\nwas all she said.\n\nHe kissed her cheeks. \"I'll come back,\" he promised. But before he had\ngone many steps he turned to see her again. She was standing in the\nbillow of leaves, a lonely-looking little girl, her face paler than it\nhad been even on that day of the wind-hunt. He wanted to run back to her\nand tell her he would be her playmate always, and never leave the\nForest. But he wanted, too, to go on and across the sea and into foreign\nlands. He stayed irresolute.\n\nAnd then quite suddenly, standing just behind Ivra, he saw Tree Mother.\nShe was not looking at him at all, but at Ivra, and her eyes were kind\nstars. When Ivra turned to go home she must walk right into Tree\nMother's arms and against her breast. So Eric was happy again, Ivra\ncould not be lonely with dear Tree Mother. Perhaps she would take her up\nin her air-boat high above the falling leaves, where she could look down\non the magic. He waved, calling, \"Remember me to the Snow Witches when\nthey come.\" That was not because he really wanted to be remembered to\nthem but because he knew that Ivra liked them best of all, and it\nwould please her.\n\nShe nodded and waved too, and threw him a kiss. Then a shower of\nfluttering leaves came between the playmates.\n\nWhen it was clear again Eric had run on out of sight, and was lost to\nIvra in the Forest. On and on and on through the showers of golden\nleaves he went, magic at his elbow and around him, and beckoning ahead\nof him. And after long walking and many thoughts, at last he did see the\nsea, gleaming blue and white sparkles between the golden trees.","title":"The Little House in the Fairy Wood","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":34460}