What could she do to help her mother? If it were something to eat, it would not be so difficult; she could pick up nuts—lots of them; but something to wear: that was a great deal harder. So she sat on the door-step puzzling her little brains, until her eyes happened to fall upon a necklace she had that morning made of scarlet mountain-ash berries, and a brilliant idea occurred to her: she would make a dress of leaves—of bright red leaves.
"I can make it just as easy," she said to herself; "I won't say a word to mother till it's all done. Won't she be glad when she sees me dressed up so nice? And then I'll tell her I can make lots of things just like it."
She had a spool of thread in her pocket, and a needle carefully stuck in her frock, so she had only to run off to the woods, without bothering any one.
Once there Nannie had no trouble in finding leaves enough, bright red ones, too—so red that they made her blink when she held them out in the sunlight. She filled her apron with those scattered on the ground, and picked a huge bunch of long rush-like grasses that grew in a small clearing; then seated herself on a low stone, ready for work, surrounded by scarlet and gold like a little empress.
The tiny fingers proved very deft, and the tiny brain very ingenious. Leaf overlapping leaf, like the scales of a fish, they were sewn on the grass stems, until a garment was shaped resembling what is fashionably called a princesse dress. The sleeves Nannie could not manage, so instead she put shoulder-straps with epaulets of leaves. She could hardly keep from dancing, she felt so delighted at the success of her plan. On went the gay suit of armor gleefully, but slowly, lest it should be harmed.
"Don't I look pretty?" sighed Nannie, in perfect content, as she glanced down at her leafy skirt; "but I can't wear that old sun-bonnet. I must make a new hat too."
Again the thread and needle, grass and leaves, were called into service. This time a queer comical cap, like Robinson Crusoe's, placed jauntily on her head, turned her into a wood-sprite indeed.
She primly picked her way through the wood, avoiding every brier as if it were poison-ivy, until she reached the opening; here she stood suddenly still, rooted to the spot by wonder. A man, a stranger, was there, sitting on a funny crooked kind of bench, doing something to a big board fastened to three long sticks in front of him. He seemed nearly as wonder-struck as Nannie for a moment; then, as she was about to move, he called out, "Who in the world are you, little fairy, and who dressed you up like that?"
He looked so pleasant that Nannie gave him a laugh for his smile, and answered promptly, "I did it my own self; ain't it pretty?"
"Yes, indeed; and what made you think of such a pretty dress?"