"Such a feast as awaited them! There was real tea and coffee bubbling in the urns; the wooden cakes, pies, and ices, were wooden no longer; or, if they were, the dolls certainly found them delicious. As for Dinah, the cook, she was as busy as possible, not only making various dishes over the fire, but boxing the ears of her children, and scolding them when they did not bring her pepper or salt just to the minute. Then, what a pet she was in when any thing burned upon the stove!
"Milly watched all the busy little figures until her very eyes ached, and the clock, upon the dining-room wall of the baby-house, struck one, two, when out popped the bird above, without any one's pulling the silk tag, and chirped 'cuckoo' quite distinctly. At this the moonbeam fairies fluttered from their perch upon the gables, and circled in rings of flame and purple and gold and blue, quickly succeeding each other; while the moonlight streamed brighter and brighter, wrapping every thing in a dazzling cloud.
"What do you suppose this dazzling light really was, my dear little reader? Why, it was nothing but another day's sun kissing Milly's eyelids and curls with golden caresses. Yes, every thing was undisturbed in her room. The baby-house was closed; and, when she peeped in, all the dolls were as stupid as though they never had skipped, or eaten a late supper the previous night, while all the wooden cakes stood upon the sideboard untouched.
"'Never mind; the fairies were here,' thought Milly, 'for Pet saw them, too.'
"At the breakfast-table, she tried to tell her story; but Tom and Dick laughed at her so, she did not get through with it very well.
"'But the fairies were here,' cried Milly, half vexed. 'Pet saw them.'
"The little sister, who was eating bread and butter contentedly, stopped, with her mouth and eyes wide open, which made everybody laugh the more.
"'I never did!' said Pet, indignantly: 'I only slept the whole time.'
"Poor Milly said no more; but she never saw the moon climb her sparkling, star-strewn pathway afterward, without wishing that the fairies might spread their rainbow wings, and flutter down into her little chamber again, as they did the night when she was six years old."
It stormed heavily all day. The Teapot and Saucepan, sitting on the shelf in a state of idleness, agreed together, that, if the rain dashed against the windows in that way, the Club would not be able to hear each other speak when night came.