CHAPTER XII.
'Lisbeth was asleep. She was tired enough to sleep well. She was better off asleep than awake; had you asked her she would have told you so. As she slept she dreamed, and as she dreamed the forms in the basket became living things, and the pence in her pocket changed to pounds, and things which were not became to her as though they were.
In fact 'Lisbeth doubted that she was 'Lisbeth, and who knows but had she dreamed long enough she might have been the queen herself?
The bird, in the basket, stood on its gingerbread legs, which were changed to real bird's legs, and it sung to her sweeter than the bird at the mile-stone sung on the post. The little dog forgot that it was gingerbread, and barked and sprung about, and shone like satin in its pretty black coat; it barked in a charming fashion. The cat? it was beautiful as only cats in dreams can be, as it sat on the handle of the basket; it was a beautiful picture to behold.
But what amused and delighted her more than the bird or the cat or the dog, was the real live elephant which floated in the air without wings, and the two charming little angels, with little brass crowns, who sung sweeter than the bird itself, and blew about like thistle-down, and astonished her more than all the shows of London. But the most delightful gingerbread of all was the gingerbread parrot, which was no more a gingerbread, but a real, true, live, green and gold parrot which tapped at her hat and called, "Come, Lady 'Lisbeth, here is a coach and four, to ride to your door."
Then 'Lisbeth woke up, and when she saw that the parrot and the angels and the elephant, and the dog and cat, and even the bird, which had been singing on the bottom of the basket were all gingerbread, she flew up in a passion and threw them all to the ground, and had them all to pick up again.