Then Mary Louise slipped away, out of Toy Town where the dwarfs and the fairies made all the toys in little workshops, only they had the shades pulled down so that nobody could see them, for they are queer little people and don't like to be watched.
"Oh, dear," sighed Mary Louise, "I wish I were home. Mother will be dreadfully worried about me.
"Oh, if I had a Wishing Stone
I know what I would do
I'd wish for lots of lovely things,
And give a lot to you.
But, Oh, dear me. I've never known
Where is this wonder Wishing Stone."
"I know," cried a little voice, and then, of course, Mary Louise looked all around to see who had spoken, but she couldn't see anybody.
"Who are you?" she asked, halting Dapple Gray on the edge of a big forest.
"Here I am," cried the same little voice, and then, quick as a wink, a tiny fairy jumped out from behind a bush.
"Don't frighten my pony," said Mary Louise, as Dapple Gray stood up straight on his hind legs, "he isn't used to fairies."
"No, indeed," whinnied the pony, for that is the way a horse talks, you know. "I've met lots of people in dear Old Mother Goose Land, but never a fairy."
"If you come into this forest you will meet many little people like me," answered the fairy.
"Will they object if I travel through it?" asked little Mary Louise anxiously. "You see, I'm on my way home."