After this she visited her patient two or three times a day, nursing and feeding him. But, on the afternoon of the fourth day, he had disappeared, and Sybil returned to the hut feeling quite lonely at the loss of the little creature that had been so glad to see her.
The next night, as Christern was returning late from his work, trudging slowly through the forest, with his lantern swinging in his hand, and his wallet slung over his back on the end of his walking stick, something brushed close by the old man’s ear with a buzzing of tiny wings.
“That dragon-fly is out late,” said the old man to himself.
Very soon the wings brushed by him again with a louder whizzing.
“It is a bat!” said the old man, shaking his head. “Shoo! shoo!” But the third time the whirring wings flew almost into his face.
“Good evening, old Christern!” said a tiny voice, such as might come from a humming-bird, if it could speak.
The startled old man stopped and flashed the light of his lantern around among the trees. And there, with wee wings outspread, was a fairy skimming through the air! Christern had never seen a fairy, but he knew this was one as soon as he saw him. And a jolly, rollicking fellow he was!
CHRISTERN AND THE FAIRY.
“You don’t know me, old fellow?” said the fairy.