“From the reek of the pond, the lily
Has risen in raiment white,
A spirit of air and water,
A form of incarnate light.”
“Sadie is too hifalutin’ for anything,” thought Lucy, who had the rice pudding on her hands. Ah, that pudding!
Lucy had forgotten, or did not know, that rice has a habit of swelling. Before long it had risen to the top of the kettle and was overflowing it, like an eruption of lava down the sides of a volcano.
“Oh, look, look,” cried Sadie, “it’s like the genius in the Arabian Nights, that flew out when the bottle was opened, and grew to a great steam giant!”
“Can’t stop to talk fairy stories. Get the spider!” cried Lucy.
She filled the spider from the bubbling, dripping kettle.