“Try what?” asked Bridget anxiously.
“Try,” repeated the owl, “nothing more; try.”
Bridget’s face fell; she was very much disappointed. Every one had told her that till she was sick of the word. The owl could not be a fairy after all.
“Is that all?” she said. “I always do that.”
“Always?” asked the owl.
Bridget was silent a moment as she thought of the past week.
“Why, not quite always.”
“But it must be always,” said the owl, “that’s the secret of it. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again. You’ve heard that?”
“Of course I have,” said Bridget sorrowfully; “I’ve heard it much too often.”
The owl did not answer, perhaps it was offended.