They all had sweet, kind faces, and looked lovingly at Norah as they danced around her to the fairy music.
When Norah had got this far in her story, she turned to her father, and said:
"Then you called me, and the fairies all looked sad, and then—then—that's all I can remember."
"The fairies are wonderful people, and we must keep them for our friends, but I don't want them to call my Norah away from me. You must never turn your ears to the fairy music, my child."
Norah's father looked serious as he said these words. He had heard of a young girl who had listened to fairy music. It made her lose all love for her dearest friends. She forgot everything that had happened in her life. After that, she could only think of the fairies, and long to be with them. She died a short time afterward.
But, of course, Norah had only been dreaming of the fairies. That was quite different.
"Tell us some fairy stories, father dear. It is just the night for them," begged Katie.
Her father liked nothing better. He began at once to tell of a battle between two bands of fairies. It was in the night-time, and not far from the very place where they were living.
Norah's father had seen with his own eyes the man who told the story of the strange battle.
The fairies were no more than nine inches tall, but there were millions of them. They marched along in rows just like any other soldiers. The men of one army were in green coats, and the men of the other in red ones.