At last, one day about the middle of February, the great yellow sun popped up above the tops of the mountains and covered everything with the brightest sunlight.
Little AH-NI-GHI´-TO was asleep when the sun first looked into the room, but in a few minutes she woke up, and as the room had been specially warmed to give her a sun bath, her mother took her out of her little nest and placed her, all white and naked, in the sunlight on the bed.
How the big blue eyes did open at the strange sight. How she laughed and jumped and stretched her little hands out in the yellow light, just as if she was bathing in perfumed golden water. It was the first time she had ever seen the sun.
After this, every sunshiny day she had her sun bath, when she would try to seize the sunbeams slanting through the room, and failing in this would try to pick up bits of sunlight on the bed.
“Stretched her Little Hands out in the Yellow Light”
On every pleasant day she was dressed in her little fur suit, tucked into her deerskin bag, and carried out.
Do you know how the tulip and hyacinth and narcissus bulbs grow and blossom after they are brought out of the cold, dark cellar into the warm, sunny window?
