“Beware of the devices of the little wizard!”
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed she. “Won’t I beware? I’ll sew, let me see; well, I’ll sew a strip long enough to go once around my quilt before I stir, let the little wizard say what he will.”
Stitch, stitch, stitch, went Jessie’s bright, swift, little needle for the next half-hour. Then her two cousins bounced into the room, shouting—
“O Jessie, come and see! There is one of the funniest little men out here you ever did see. He’s got no neck, and he wears the queerest sort of a hat! He’s playing on the bagpipe. Come, just a minute.”
“Beware of the devices of the little wizard!” said the writing on the patchwork. It caught Jessie’s eye just as she was going to drop her work and run out to see the funny little man. She felt as if something was twinging her heart, but remembering her purpose, she brought her work to her side, and said—
“I thank you, cousins, but you must excuse me until I’ve finished my sewing.”
“What a cross thing she is!” said Charlie, bouncing out of the room.
“Do come, just for a minute, that’s all, cousin Jessie,” said Emily in her most coaxing tones.
Charlie’s words wounded Jessie more than Emily’s soothed her. Unwilling to be thought cross, she dropped her work “just for a minute,” and went out. The queer little man excited her mirth greatly, and she soon forgot all about her patchwork. When the little pipe-player moved off, Emily said—
“Let us follow him up to Carrie Sherwood’s. Won’t she be tickled to see him?”