(After circling round the stump and seeking in every way to induce her to join them, one of them tries gently to take the spray of dog-wood blossoms from her hand.)
Selma—(Calling aloud.) Father!
First Fairy—Oh, smell the wood pinks! They are waking now.
Second Fairy—The bees are stirring in the gum.
Third Fairy— O sisters,
I know a brake where the brown quails sleep.
Let's tip the leaves and let the star-light on them.
(Four of them run up the slope one after another and each in turn as she disappears among the trees glances back and calls to Selma.)
First Fairy—Sister!
Third Fairy— Sister!
Fourth Fairy— Sister!