It was the prettiest spot in that grim forest; it appeared so peaceful and bright. Blackberry and wild-raspberry bushes, on which the fruit shone glossy and ripe, grew all around; a spring gurgled up from a bed of moss. The grass, patterned over with wild-flowers, was more lovely than any carpet woven by man. Some one had spread upon it a little feast: there was a jug of milk, bread and butter, and honey and cakes.
Kitty wondered who was coming to feast on these simple dainties, for though she peered through the bushes she saw nobody. Yet somebody had found a delightful place for a picnic.
“Eat,” said the guardian child.
“But why may I eat here, when I could not eat there?” asked Kitty.
“You want food, and the star has stayed to let you rest. You will not be greedy if you eat now. You will be innocent and good; so long as the star watches there is no danger of evil.”
Kitty sat down, and the guardian child came down and became her little host. He offered her fruit and honey; he gathered blackberries for her. Perhaps the naughty sprite was sulking; perhaps it was sleeping; it did not move, but lay curled up in a little ball.
Kitty ate and drank. The birds hopped about her; the squirrels peeped at her from the branches; a field-mouse eyed her with its bright and furtive glance; a crowd of lovely wild things watched her. The shy creatures drew around the guardian child; they seemed to know he was Love’s messenger. He sang, and the birds sang in answer. A little callow, yellow-beaked nestling had fallen out of its nest, and was crying piteously. Had it lost its mother? The guardian child fed it and gently put it back into its mossy cradle. It was the friendliest scene. All around the coral-eyed pimpernels were wide open.
“It will be fine weather,” said the guardian child. “They are play-ground’s weather-clock. The sun whispers to them what it means to do during the day. Tick, tick; these are play-ground’s clock,” he went on, pointing to bell-like blossoms, some tight-closed, others half-unclosed, others wide open. “They tell the hour. The wind winds them up. Hush! listen to the tick-tick of the leaves.”
When Kitty had rested awhile, she and her guardian child began to play together. They blew bubbles through long reeds, and rainbow-tinted pictures seemed to form on the bubbles. Kitty looked to see what these pictures were, but they faded away and broke before she was quite sure that she had made them out. They ran races together. Kitty thought she never had so merry and gentle a play-fellow as her guardian child; and as they played together he seemed to grow more and more like Johnnie. The wild woodland animals frisked and gamboled about them; butterflies and dragon-flies darted around. Kitty thought it was just like the story of the blue rose come true, and that Play-ground Land was the mysterious garden she had imagined.
When the games seemed merriest the Love spirit suddenly stopped playing, and perched once more upon Kitty’s shoulder.