"What does it mean?" he asked. "I am very curious to know. Is it merely a tune--or does it remind you of something!"
The Sturgises pondered. "It's like spring," Felicia said; "like little leaves fluttering."
"Yes, it is," Ken agreed. "It's a song of some sort, I think--that is, it ought to have words. And it's spring, all right. It's like--it's like--"
"It's like those toads!" Kirk said suddenly. "Don't you know? Like little bells and flutes, far off--and fairies."
The Maestro clapped his hands.
"I have not forgotten how, then," he said. "It has words, Kenelm. I hope--I hope that you will not be very angry with me."
He played the first twinkling measures again, and then began to sing:
"Down in the marshes the sounds begin
Of a far-away fairy violin,
Faint and reedy and cobweb thin."
Cobweb thin, the accompaniment took up the plaintive chirping till the Maestro sang the second verse.
"I say," said Ken, bolt upright in his chair. "I say!"