"Wapsipinicon, 'rah, 'rah, 'rah,
Come, pretty Nixie, wherever you are."
Instantly the waterfall formed by the largest rock that stuck out of the river bed became misty, and a spray rose from it, higher, higher, higher, until the children saw a lovely maiden's form grow clearer and clearer.
The crystal water shimmered over her head and long hair and gown of mist, and she stood, a slender, lovely, dripping fountain and gazed upon the tiny children kindly.
"It is very good of you to come," said Pierre. He snatched off his cap politely and nearly stepped upon Iona, who leaped away from him. He restored it very quickly you may be sure, and the Nixie continued to gaze at them through her rippling, watery veil, without apparently noticing these extraordinary changes.
"We are searching for the lost key to the fairy palace gate," explained Iona. "It is of gold. Have you seen it glittering in your river?"
"No," returned the Nixie in a gurgling tone. "The key is not in the river."
"Do you know where it is?" cried Pierre eagerly.
"Those of the ground must tell you," gurgled the Nixie. "The water knows nothing of it."