“Do, just for the fun of it,” urged the naughty sprite in a coaxing tone.
“I shall wait till I want spectacles to make a fright of myself,” said Kitty, and she would have walked on.
“What do you see?” asked the blue-spectacled personage, rubbing the glasses he had taken out of his breast-pocket.
“I see,” said Kitty, “the wood. A little way off I see a delicious swing-swong seat made of moss, hanging between two trees. Yes, I see a little pale child, all in rags, a cripple, leaning on his crutch. He wants to get on the swing-swong. Oh, I shall run and help him!”
“Just take a peep at the same scene through these spectacles,” said the odd-looking being.
“Don’t!” whispered the guardian child.
“Just a peep to please him,” urged the sprite good-naturedly.
“Well, only a peep,” said Kitty, and she set the blue spectacles on her nose.
At first she saw nothing at all. Everything was dancing, whirling about her. The earth seemed to rush up into the sky, the sky seemed to swoop down upon the earth.
Then the scene began to clear. She saw the same tree, but it looked more shady and delightful; the same mossy seat, but now it appeared more inviting. The sunshine seemed brighter in that spot, the shade cooler; it appeared the loveliest nook she had ever set eyes upon. The child struck her as a white, dwarfish, ugly little intruder—a sort of small monster. What right had it to be there? He spoiled the place.