Linde obeyed, but not before seeing and feeling that all the assembled robins were flying down and surrounding her, so that with the velvety softness of the grassy sod and the fluffy feeling of the feathered creatures encircling her, she seemed in a cosy nest, and already somewhat sleepy. Then a slight touch on the top of her head made her start a little.
"It is only we two," chirped her guide, "I and the noble bird who owes his life to you. We are here to direct the air voyage. Rest, my child, rest and be at peace."
Linde did not know that she fell asleep, though afterwards she knew it must have been so. She felt herself rising, rising—then a breath of colder air met her face, and—that was all she knew, till—she awoke, and found herself in the porch of the cottage, and—to prove the night's adventures had been no dream, in one hand the little spade, in the other the three red feathers, still firmly clasped.
She was a very practical maiden, in spite of her fairy perceptions, so the first thing she did was to lay the small treasures safely in the old jar, saying to herself, and "to-morrow night—no, I should say to-night, we will place it outside on the window-sill and in the morning it will be filled with the lovely leaves. What news, what joy to tell Aria!"
She ran upstairs—softly—but her sister was awake.
"Darling," she said, "are you really safely back? Yet I have not been anxious. Somehow I felt you were all right and I have had a peaceful sleep."
Then Linde told her the whole wonderful story and showed her the little spade. And at night you may be sure they did not forget to put the jar in the appointed place, to find it in the morning replenished with rose-leaves whose perfume seemed even more delicious than ever before. So Saturday found them with plenty of their treasured wares for sale, and quickly were they bought.
Nor was this only temporary good fortune.
The fame of their dried roses spread far and wide, and orders came from great distances, so that the two sisters were able not only to go on living together in greater comfort than they had ever known, but even to lay aside savings for a possible "rainy day."
Though as far as I could learn—this story, you know, is of a fairly long ago "once upon a time"—that day never came to the happy girls. The robins never failed them. The cottage garden and the neighbouring forest grew to be famed for the peculiarly beautiful redbreasts which there abounded. The uncanny reputation of the woods was quite forgotten, and on the contrary it was said to bring good luck to those who often strolled about in them.