The fan wafted a soft breeze back and forth, and Tina forgot to look for the little faces on it, she was so comfortable, till she heard a voice say:
“Come, go into the woods with me.”
“Who’s that?” said Tina, looking at the fan.
“It is I,” said the voice. “Don’t you see me? I won’t come out, unless you say you will go to the woods with me.”
“All right, I will go,” said Tina; “if we don’t have to go through the sun—it is so hot.”
“It will be pleasant, where we are going,” said the voice; and then Tina saw a little boy’s face appear on the fan.
He was a very pretty little boy, and as he said “Come,” Tina put down the fan, and there was the boy standing by her side.
He took her by the hand, and suddenly she found herself with him on a broad terrace, in front of a beautiful house.
“How did we get here?” said Tina. “This isn’t my home.”