But at last Aster, who did nothing but complain of weariness, told Eva that he could and would go no farther. Seeing a great, velvety, green mushroom growing in the path, he ran and sat down upon it, saying that it was a seat which had been made and put there for him, and that Eva should not share it.
He had scarcely said this, had scarcely seated himself, when the mushroom changed into a great green frog, which, with Aster seated astride upon its back, began to hop nimbly away in the direction of the forest. But Eva, whose eyes had never for a moment left the boy, sprang forward, and before Aster—pleased at the motion of the frog—could say a word, she had dragged him off his strange steed, which turned and snapped at her, but, instead of touching her, caught the skirt of Aster’s coat in his mouth and held on to it till Eva’s efforts tore it from him, leaving, however, a small piece of the velvet in the frog’s mouth. Even then he tried to seize Aster again, and it was not till Eva’s dress touched him that he turned to leave them, still holding in his mouth the scrap torn from Aster’s coat, and as he hopped off the path he faded away just like a shadow.
Then, too, the moon sank from the sky, and the two children, completely worn out, lay down and slept, and Eva knew that for a little while, at least, Aster was safe, because as she lay down she heard a little song which said;
Tranquil be your sleep,
Peaceful be your rest,
We a watch will keep,
Naught shall you molest;
Sleep, Eva, sleep.
Where our light may shine,
Where we weave our charm,