Kelpie was overjoyed at hearing this news. She had not been happy for a long time; now she could go out into the wide world, and try to find out the answer to the question that so weighed on her mind. She bade adieu to the rest at once, and started off by herself in high spirits. She would be very careful, she thought, as to whom she questioned, and would try and find some really friendly and open-hearted adviser.
She was so occupied with all the new and strange things she saw—the rivers, the ploughed fields, the hills and downs she passed over, and so determined not to be put upon any more by thrushes and jackdaws, that autumn had set in before she ventured to address a single bird on the subject she had at heart. But one day in September she was enjoying herself by the side of a rapid little brook which ran through pleasant meadows, when she caught sight of a very long tail going up and down, up and down. The bird it belonged to was hidden behind a stone in the stream. She watched, and saw a gray wagtail come from behind the stone, and fly with graceful curves a little further on, then she saw another bird join him, and stood in speechless admiration of these beautiful creatures, so slender, so gentle-looking, and so beautifully covered with gray above and yellow beneath. But what most fascinated her was the motion of their long tails, which were never for a moment still.
She went up and introduced herself. They received her kindly as a distant connection, and said she was welcome to the brook; and in their company she remained for the greater part of the day, before she summoned up courage to open her heart to them.
“You are very kind and good,” she said at last, “and I think you must be very clever too. Would you mind telling me, as I see you wag your own tails so constantly and so nicely, why you do it, and why all our family do it too? If you only would, I should be so happy and grateful; you can’t think how it’s been troubling me!”
The gray wagtail looked at his wife, and she looked at him, and they seemed to nod to one another in rather an odd way.
“Dear, dear!” said the wife,—“what a sad pity!”
“Oh, dear me, dear me!” said the husband, “how sad! And such a nice young creature too! What can we do for her?”
The wife shook her head silently; Kelpie felt dreadfully ashamed of herself. What could be the matter?
“Please tell me if I have done anything wrong,” she said.
“My dear,” said the wife very kindly, “I fear you are not very well. If I were you I should