106 THE FAIRY-FOLK OF THE BLUE HILL,

singing birds,—thou must take me there,”
said Wassa.

“Come,” said the wisp, “and thou wilt find
‘The things that most do suit thy mind,”

and he bounded on, until he paused, and,
holding his lantern aloft, its rays fell on the
sides of a grotto where beautiful trailing plants

 

were seen hanging, and waving palms brushed
their large, broad leaves against Wassa’s
cheeks.

“This,” said Wassa to herself, “does really
seem like the grotto where the beautiful birds
sang such sweet songs, but where are the
birds?”

At that moment a harsh, discordant note
startled the child, and a large bird with a