SHE was lost as they went through the wood. How it happened nobody quite knew, but they supposed she must have tumbled out of the perambulator as Kitty pushed it through the ferns and long grasses, and so poor Dolly was left there, lying on her back, staring up at as much sky as was visible through the fern-fronds, and the foxglove leaves, and the branches of the trees overhead.
Would they come back for her? The children’s voices and footsteps grew fainter and fainter, till at last they died quite away in the distance, and the robin began singing again on the branch over her head. Presently the little bird caught sight of Dolly, and flew down and looked at her with his bright eyes, and then a tiny field-mouse ran round and over her with her little light paws—which must have tickled, but still Dolly never moved, and a wise old beetle came out of his hole, and twiddled his long whiskers as he peered at her curiously.
“Sweet! sweet!” said the robin. “Who is she?”
“Twee! twee!” whispered the mouse. “I don’t know!”
“Hum, hu-um!” buzzed the beetle. “Why doesn’t she speak?”
But Dolly didn’t say a word!
Now, eventide came, and the sun grew tired, and put himself to bed under a crimson-and-gold counterpane. The robin found a comfortable twig on which to perch, and tucked his head under his wing. The mouse went home to her babies, of whom she had six—all packed warm and tight in a neat little nest hung on to a cornstalk in the next field. And the beetle spread his shining wings and went for a fly round before he, too, rolled himself in a roseleaf blanket and went to sleep! But Dolly never closed her eyes!