The garden was very quiet. Looking around, Bobbie spied a little white fuzzy head close beside him.
“Fairy paint brush! Humph!” thought Bobbie, and he reached over to pluck a blade of grass. “Why, I declare,” he said, “the little new shoot just peeping out of the ground has almost no color at all. Think of all the grass that's been painted right in our own yard! Those Rainbow Fairies certainly have a good deal of work to do.” As Bobbie stood up, Fluff came bounding back. He leaped upon his little master as joyfully as though he had n't seen him for days and weeks. For a minute Bobbie felt that he really had been away on a long, long journey. Then he glanced down at the soapy little puddle behind him.
“Fluff, sir,” he said with a frown, pretending to be very angry, “look at what you've done, and look at my clothes! But my whizaphats!” he added, seizing Fluff's paws. “If that dream had been true your ocean would have saved my life. If I'd landed on the ground when the Comet Expressman hit me, no telling what would have happened!”
Just then the tea bell rang. “Come on, Fluff,” Bobbie cried, starting for the house, “come on. We can get a drink of milk here, even if it isn't the Milky Way!”