“That is a very likely story,—but give me some, do; and I will tell them to hatch most beautiful birds and butterflies.”
“Stay; let me explain a little, before you count your unhatched birds and butterflies. I will tell you how to hatch them. Put them in your bosom, and they will be hatched by its warmth; but what is hatched from them must depend entirely upon what kind of feeling shall warm your bosom, and upon what deeds you do. If you have a wicked feeling, an ugly creature will begin to form within one of the eggs; and if you let that feeling cause you to do anything wrong, then the egg will hatch. Are you willing to take the risk of having spiders and scorpions in your bosom, for the sake of the hope that they may be pretty birds and butterflies?”
“Oh, yes!” said Lizzy; “I do not think I ever have such bad feelings as spiders and scorpions are made of.”
“Come, then,” cried the fairy; and she led Lizzy round to the other side of the tree, where she saw, high up in the trunk, a woodpecker’s hole.
“Run up,” cried the fairy.
“How can I? There is nothing but an ivy-vine to cling to.”
“You mistake,” said the fairy; and she touched the ivy-vine with her wand, and there was a nice rope-ladder leading up to the woodpecker’s hole. It was almost full of small, pearly white eggs.—“Take out three or four,” said the fairy, “and put them in your bosom, and before you reach home, they will very likely all be hatched.”