George came hurrying along after him. Though he had been running for quite a long time he didn't seem to be a little bit tired. His cheeks were rosy, his eyes were bright, and he sang aloud for joy. He was so glad to be out with Alexander once more.
"Wait for me, Alexander!" he cried. "Wait for me. Don't be in such a hurry!"
Alexander came bounding toward him, and after chasing one another in and out of among the trees they threw themselves down on the soft moss to rest for a moment.
"I think I should like to lie here all day," said George. "I don't remember coming to this part of the wood before. I wonder how we got here. Do you know, Alexander?"
"I brought you here, little George," said Alexander—at least, it sounded as if he had said that, and for a moment George thought he had really spoken.
"That would be fun," he thought to himself as he lay back with his head against the trunk of a tree. "What would they say if I went home and said that Alexander had been talking to me?"
Suddenly, far, far off he heard the music again. It seemed to be calling, calling to him: "Come, little boy, come and dance and play! The sun is shining; the soft wind is blowing. Come and play with us!"
"What nonsense!" said George aloud. "I must be dreaming again. I wonder if the doctor gave me that medicine to make me dream. What was it he said to me about Fairyland?"
"Wish as hard as ever you can!" said Alexander.
George was so startled when he heard Alexander speak for the second time that he fell down backward. Then he sat up slowly and looked at him. The dear black dog was sitting up, looking at George with—yes!—a smile on his face, and wagging his tail gently to and fro.