v.] HIARRY’S DREAM. 267

 

And at the the tread of mortal feet

Fly to their caverns terrified,
You may but guess that here they dwell,
And love them, though invisible !

‘Yet am I wreng. Though far away
Our Fairies sport in woodland shade,
And mortal man were rash to stray
Within the spell-enchanted glade ;
Still are their strains to mortals known,
In notes that make the heart rejoice ;
And softer e’en than Fairy tone
I deem the tones of that sweet voice
Which doth to a// enchantment bring
Whene’er my Maiden deigns to sing.’

Here the little brown gentleman came to a stop
(as indeed it was time he should after such a prepos-
terously long spell of verse), and bowed low before
May, as if he had paid her the prettiest compliment
in his power. But quite a different idea struck
Harry.

‘There!’ he shouted, ‘you see you awta Fairy,
May, not the least in the world. The old gentleman
has plainly told you so, and called you a mortal to
your face! What a humbug you are, pretending to
be a Fairy when you are nothing of the sort! just like
a girl!’

To his infinite surprise, the young lady took no
notice whatever of this somewhat rude address, but
made a polite bow to the little old gentleman, and
merely remarked in a careless sort of tone, ‘Don’t
you think we had better play croquet, now that you
have brought the things ?’

The other nodded his head, and they proceeded
to the croquet ground, which was quite close by.