The Magic Painter a5

going back to his canvas. Ina very few
moments she began to see that he under-
stood what she meant, for the top he
painted into the picture was the exact like-
ness of the one she wanted.

“Ves,” she cried, ‘‘that is what I] mean.”
Then, while he added the finishing touches
to the painting, she grew silent and
listened. It seemed to her that she
could hear, now that his painting of the
humming-top was almost complete, the
sound of its wonderful music. Of course
she understood now that this man was a
magic painter—probably a fairy, though he
might have been an angel—but still the
music puzzled her. And so she uttered a
cry of something that was almost fright
when a very beautiful top, which for some
few minutes past had been spinning music-
ally on the floor beside her; ran down, and
rolled under her chair noisily.

“It's you again!” she said. ‘I wish
you would come to my party.”

“O,” answered the painter. ‘I think