"O, give me food, for I am starved, and clothes, for I am cold, and take me with you, for I am so lonely," sobbed the child.
"Then don't cry any more, but take my hand; and here are some wild grapes I picked just now—taste how fresh and sweet they are."
The little girl laughed for joy, with the tears still glistening on her face, and soon leaving Daisy's hand, skipped about her, flying hither and thither like a butterfly, filling her hands with flowers, and then coming back, to look up curiously in the strange old face of the dame.
"You are a good soul, after all," said the fairy, when Daisy returned to her side. "See how happy you have made that little wretch!"
"Yes, and how easily, too! O, why do not all people find out what a cheap comfort it is to help each other? I think, if they only knew this, that every one would grow kind and full of charity."
Daisy did not dream that the child listened, or would understand what she was saying; but the little girl, tears springing into her eyes again, answered softly, "O, no, not all."
"Why, have you found so many wicked people, my poor child?"
"Perhaps they are not wicked; but they are not kind;" and the girl's voice grew sadder. "Some time before you came, a beautiful lady passed; she was not dressed like you, but a hundred times handsomer; and I thought she would have ever so much to give away; so I asked her for a penny to buy bread."
"And did she give you one?" asked Daisy, who saw that the lady must have been her sister Maud.
"Not she; she called me names, and pushed me away so roughly that I fell into a bunch of nettles; and they stung till it seemed as if bees were eating me up. Look there!"