CHAPTER XVIII THE MAGIC RHYME
MARY FRANCES, who wanted to laugh, too, pretended not to notice, and picked up a ball of pink yarn.
“If only I had Fairly Flew’s magic needle!” she said, “I could get the slippers finished very soon for my poor baby’s cold feet.”
She started to pick up Crow Shay.
“Wait a moment! Wait a moment!” exclaimed the little fellow who was himself again. “Don’t you want to call the fairy teacher?”
“If I only knew how to, I certainly should call her, Crow Shay,” replied Mary Frances. “You help me a good deal, but——”
