"All right, all right," sang Lily-bud, flitting around Peter's head on bright wings. The moment Rose-Petal heard her friend's voice she turned about. Peter saw that this new fairy's wings were drooping and that she looked pale and sad. He could hardly wait to give her what was her own, and he leaned down, holding out the bright bit of silver.
"Here is your wand, Rose-Petal," he said.
How gladly the little creature seized it, and Peter had the pleasure of seeing her cheeks flush and her eyes grow bright and her gauzy wings lift, while rosy color ran in waves all over her white gown, from which the dust fell away. She looked up at him with lovely, grateful eyes, and flew twice around his head before she alighted on his shoulder and spoke into his ear.
"And what can I do for you, Peter?" she asked in a voice that was like sweet music. "Your arms are bleeding."
"I don't deserve anything," replied Peter, not daring to move with that dainty being on his shoulder.
"I can't leave you without showing my gratitude," said Rose-Petal, and Lily-bud felt so happy and full of fun that she alighted on Pat's ear, but he thought a twig was tickling him, and he put up his paw so she whirred away laughing, and then flew back to Rose-Petal and took her hand.
"This is a very uncomfortable, wet coat you're standing on," she said.
"I think so too," replied Rose-Petal, "so first we'll forget all those scratches." She touched Peter with the wand and instantly his arms and legs were smooth—"and then," she continued, "we'll make him as nice outside as he is inside." She touched him again and all the shabby clothes were gone, and the boy found himself dressed in a fine, strong suit with shoes that fitted him perfectly.
"Good bye, Peter," she said, "and if I ever lose my wand again I hope you will be the one to find it."