“But although he laughed at my 'fancies,' I could not but notice he was always getting me to tell them, yet as if for some end of his own which I never could discover; for often when he had set me going in this way, I could feel myself pushed forth from him, as if I were the antenna of some insect with which he was exploring unknown regions, and making in his own wise head conclusions with which I had nothing to do.
“Then he was always fond of having me with him, and had always a new name for me, which I liked because he gave it to me, although I could never see its significance. Now I was his witch-hazel, though I never knew what springs I found for him. Now I was his ger-falcon, but could never see what game he loosed me at, although, certainly, no falcon was ever kept more closely hooded.
“Very different was the confidence I had in him; for whatever was in my mind, I was sure to go to him, and he was always ready to satisfy me. There was nothing so strange that I wished to see, but he could at once tell me, with the most explicit directions, where I could find it; but when I returned, as I almost invariably did, without success, the only explanation he would give was, that I had not found the place. Many a fool's errand of this kind he sent me upon, from which I came back as wise as I went. But one thing he told me which turned out exactly as he said, and it may prove so with others which are a puzzle to me to this day.
“One day, when I had been reading about the fairies until I had the greatest desire in the world to see them, I went to my oracle, whom I found sitting beside the stream above the mill, for our father was a miller, and this had been our favorite spot from my earliest recollection. He was looking at the water, apparently thinking of something else; but when he saw me coming, he appeared absorbed in a book, which I observed was upside down.
“'Tell me really and truly,' said I, 'do you think such creatures as fairies actually exist?'
“'Certainly,' he answered, 'for I have seen them myself.' I looked at him in amazement, but his serious face assured me he was not joking; and I begged him to tell me where he had seen them, and why, if they really existed, every thing was not known about them. 'There is also a nation in the heart of Africa,' said he, 'supposed to be somewhere about the source of the Nile; but no one has ever discovered them, or, if he has, has not returned, and we have no information about them.'
“'If I lived on the Nile,' I replied, 'I should never rest until I had discovered them.'
“'But,' said he, 'as we live on the mill stream, perhaps that will do as well for us. And, now I think of it, it is the very thing, as I learned from a conversation which I overheard when among the fairies—'
“'But tell me first,' said I, 'how you came to be there.'
“'O,' said he, 'I came upon them once by accident, which is a rare piece of good fortune. I had often before come upon them suddenly in the same way, but they were off before I could fairly see them, or lay like a brood of partridges, taking the color of every thing about them, so that I might look for them an hour, I could never find them. It is no use to wait, for they can wait longer than you can. The only way is to go off and come back again when the affair is blown over, and take them again unawares, when they will again, perhaps, spring up under your very feet, and be off before you know they are there. But by repeated attempts, at sufficient intervals, coming nearer each time, and looking with a certain attentive indifference, you may succeed in seeing them. But it is useless to chase them whither they appear to have flown, unless you have a dog perfectly trained; for Diana's hounds, I believe, are the only ones who have ever been able to follow them up. But as they frequent the same spot, if you leave it, they will be sure to come back, only you must mark the trees as you go away, or you will not find the place again; for otherwise you might be close by and never know it. I did not neglect this precaution when I saw them; but though I marked the trees, I forgot the mark, and have never been able to recall it. Perhaps you may have better fortune, for there is another way which I learned, as I said, from the conversation I overheard when there. But if I tell you, it must be on one condition—that you will break the twigs, or otherwise mark the way as you go along, so that I can follow.'