“Dear me! then what shall I do?” said Little One, clasping her hands. “I am tired of the dropping rain, and the bleak winds; I have lost my father and mother; I long to go home to the Summer-land.”
“There are hills to climb, and streams to cross,” said the fairy.
“But I have stout shoes,” laughed Little One.
“There are thorns and briers all along the road.”
“But I can bear to be pricked.”
“Then I will guide you,” said the fairy.
“How can that be?” cried the child. “You come to me in dreams; but by daylight I cannot see so much as the tips of your wings.”
“Listen, and you will hear my voice,” replied the fairy. “Set out toward the East, at dawn, to-morrow, and I will be with you.”
When Little One awoke, the sun was rising, and she said,—
“Oh that golden gate! The sun has left it open: do you see it, beautiful lady?”