The Wee Folk all sing,
“Come away to the feast, dear little pednpaley.”’
‘I can’t give back my dear little Ninnie-Dinnie!’ cried Joan, breaking in on the song, as it suddenly dawned upon her for what purpose the little old woman had come. ‘Please don’t ask me to do that. I have given back whatever else was asked of me gladly; but I can’t—aw, I can’t—part with that dear little thing down there in the costan.’
The strange little body took no notice of the interruption, but went on singing; and as she sang, the beautiful little creature in the bramble-basket opened its eyes and looked up at Joan with tender entreaty in them. That they were Ninnie-Dinnie’s own little eyes looking up at her Joan did not for a moment doubt; and she could but see they grew more wistful as the queer little woman sang on:
‘Oh, seek not to hinder my own little Ninnie,
For Magic and Pail,
And the Long-Eared’s wail,
The free song of the Lark,
And the light in the dark,
The dinky herself—