COME! COME!
TO THE FAIRIES’ STORY HOUR!
IN THE MOONLIT MEADOW
Fairies! Fairies everywhere! Hear them come! See them come in the pale moonlight to this lovely meadow! They rush through the air; they throng from the wood; they spring up from the ground; they peep from the flowers and leaves. They are all hastening to the Fairies’ Story Hour. The Midsummer moon is shining, shining; while the Midsummer breeze is swaying, swaying the harebells, lilies, and grasses.
Laughter! whisper! Laughter! whisper! See, through the air comes gliding a whole host of radiant little Fairies. They poise lightly on their silvery wings, and float down to the harebells and lilies. They flicker over the meadow like gay butterflies. Laughter! whisper!
Hum! whirr! Hum! whirr! What is that noise in the tree-tops? From among the dark leaves fly hundreds and hundreds of broad-backed beetles, bumping and thumping each other. They are followed by a silent cloud of bats, that wheel and whirl, and flap their leathery wings. And to the back of every beetle and every bat clings a tiny roguish Elf peeping down at the meadow below.
Rap! tack! tack! Rap! tack! tack! From behind each tree-trunk steps a little Leprechaun as big as your thumb. They are the Fairy Shoemakers. Their long beards and red caps wag in the moonlight; and the little men smile and chuckle to themselves, for well they know where the pots of Fairy Gold are hidden. Near them, peering from behind stones and bushes, are the Curmudgeons, rolling their mischievous eyes.
Skip! skip! Knock! knock! What have we here? From out of the earth pours a swarm of little Spriggans and Pixies gaily dressed, and Knockers with their tiny hammers in their tiny hands. They have left the meadows and moors; they have left the mines of tin and copper, and the diamond caves, to come to the Fairies’ Story Hour. How they hustle, how they bustle, out of the earth!
Gallop-a-trot! Gallop-a-trot! What comes from the wood? A long line of prancing goats and house-cats! And on the back of each is a House-Elf, to be sure! The Brownies, the Boggarts, the Tomts, the Piskeys, are all there. They have left their snug corners in human homes; they have left cellars, barns, and threshing-floors; they have left bowls of clubbered cream on warm hearthstones, to come to the Fairies’ Story Hour. And who is this that lights their way with a Will-o’-the-Wisp lantern? ’Tis Robin Goodfellow, freakish Elf! Ho! Ho! Ho!
Sing! cling! Sing! cling! What are these that come sailing through the air? Mother-of-pearl boats with coral masts and sails of sea-lace! Each little boat is crowded with Sea-Queens and Water-Fairies. Their green hair is long and flowing, and their robes are of rainbow spray. And near them, astride frisky sea-horses, are the Kelpies, blowing loudly on their conch-shell trumpets. And each Kelpie is armed with a shield of pearl and a sword-fish weapon. They have all left the foaming green waves and the pink coral palaces to come to the Fairies’ Story Hour.
Now! Listen! Listen! The harebells and lilies are ringing sweet music, while from meadow flowers and acorn-cups and forest nuts tumble lazy, sleepy Elves rubbing their eyes, and hastening to join the others at the Fairies’ Story Hour.