"Don't tell me that," and the dame began to look angry. "Do you call it good food that leaves me thin as I was before, and as hungry, and my clothes as ragged, and does not rest or soothe my poor old aching bones?"

"If you wait till mother has done crying, she can make a drink out of herbs that will stop the aching--I am sure of that," said Daisy, looking up in the fairy's face.

"But I want it now; and, O, I am so cold! and she will cry all night.

Do, Daisy, find me something else to eat."

The poor old woman shivered as she spoke, and tears came into her eyes.

"If it were daytime, I could find you berries and nuts out doors, for mother says I have sharp eyes."

"Have you--have you? And could you find my hut? There is a beautiful loaf of bread and a flask of medicine on the table. O, dear! this dreadful pain again!" and the ugly face grew uglier, as its wrinkles seemed all knotting up with agony.

"I am almost sure I could find it, and I am so sorry your bones ache; pray, let me try."

"What! go out into the dreadful night, with the owls, and wolves, and snakes, and with bats flapping their wings in your face, and the thunder rolling and rumbling overhead?"

"None of these things ever hurt me, and I don't believe they will now.

May I try?"

"Just listen to the wind and rain, and see the lightning cut through the darkness like a sword; and think, Daisy, if you should see your father, just as he lay in the wood, with his head all crushed."

"My father has gone to heaven," said the little girl; "that is only his body out in the woods, just as that is his coat on the wall; and I shall see nothing except the nice loaf of bread and the medicine, and think only how they will cure your pain."

Without another word, the fairy took the lantern from her bosom, and fastening it to Daisy's, led her to the door, and pointed out into the black night.

"Who could see to hurt me, when it is so dark!" the little girl exclaimed. "Now, tell me which way I shall turn, and see if I am not back soon."

"Walk only where the light of the lantern falls." She was saying more; but the wind slammed the door suddenly, and Daisy found herself alone.

CHAPTER IX.

FAIRY FOOD.

The lantern made a little pathway of light, sometimes leading straight forward, sometimes turning, running among thick bushes or over the rocks; and Daisy went bravely on, never minding the frightened birds that fluttered through her light, like moths, nor the sad sigh of the wind, nor the dripping trees.

She looked for pleasant things, instead of frightful ones; and let me whisper to you, that, with fairy help or without it, we always find, in this world, what we are looking for.

The mosses seemed like a green carpet for her feet, and the pebbles like shining jewels; and the little flowers looked up at her like friends, and seemed to say, "We are smaller and weaker than you are, Daisy; but we stay out here every night, and nothing harms us."

And the trees bowed, and folded their leaves above her, as she pa.s.sed, so gently, that she thought they were trying to shelter and take care of her.

At length the light paused before a rock; but Daisy could find no house, until she parted a clump of bushes, and then saw the entrance to a cave.

She crept in; and as her lantern filled the place with light, she saw what a damp, uncomfortable home the old dame had, with only some stones for seats, and a table, and a ragged bed, and a smoky corner where she built her fire.

There, however, upon the table stood the loaf and flask which Daisy had come to find; she took them and hurried away, for it seemed as if the old dame's face were looking at her out of the rocky wall on every side.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LOAF AND FLASK.]

It was a heavier load for the little girl than her father's basket had been; but she had a strong heart, if her hands were weak. She ran along, trying to get before the light, that was always just in front of her, and singing the merriest songs she knew, so as not to hear the wind nor think about the faces on the wall.

She reached home safely, but could not open the door; for the latch was high, and the dame had gone fast asleep. Daisy thought she must wait until daylight out there in the cold, and sat on the step, feeling disappointed and sad enough.

But one of her tame rabbits, awakened, perhaps, more easily than the dame, hopped out of his burrow, and nestled in Daisy's lap, and looked up at her with his gentle eyes, while she warmed her hands in his fur, and did not feel so much alone.

At last the old woman started from her sleep, and wondering what had become of Daisy, went to look for her.

She seized the bread with a cry of joy, and breaking a morsel, ate it eagerly, as she led Daisy towards the fire, which she had built up again.

"Now, see the difference between your food and mine." As the fairy spoke, Daisy looked up, and saw, to her surprise, the wrinkles smooth away, and a beautiful light break over the old brown face, the wide mouth shrink to a little rosy one, all smiles, and pearly teeth inside.

The fairy's eyes grew brighter than ever; but the dreadful glittering look had gone, and they were full of joy, and peace, and love.

"Wait, now, till I take my medicine." Her voice had changed to the softest, most silvery one that Daisy ever heard.

And when she had tasted the drink, her poor old crooked hands grew plump and white, her bent form straightened, and, what made Daisy wonder more, even her clothes began to change.

First they looked cleaner, then not so faded, then the rags disappeared, and they seemed new and whole; and then they began to grow soft and rich, till the ragged cotton gown was changed to velvet and satin, the knotted old turban to delicate lace, that hung heavy with pearls, but was not so delicate and beautiful as the golden hair that floated about the fairy wherever she moved.

"Poor child!" she said; "you are tired and cold; come, rest with me;"

and taking Daisy in her arms, began to sing the sweetest songs, that seemed to change every thing into music, even the wailing tempest and her mother's sobs.

And all the while that tender, loving face bent over her, and the gentle hands were smoothing her wet hair, and folding her more closely to the fairy's heart.

Upon this pillow our tired Daisy fell asleep.

CHAPTER X.

DAISY'S DREAMS.

Strange and pleasant dreams came to Daisy as she slept; and in all of them she could see the beautiful fairy floating over her head, and her father walking by her side.

It seemed to her that, as she watched the lightning, the sky really broke like a dome of gla.s.s, and came shattering down, and that after it floated the loveliest forms, and odors and music came pouring down, and light which was far clearer, and yet not so dazzling as the light of earth.

The clouds came floating towards her, and all their golden edges were bright wings, that waved in time with the music; then came falling, falling slowly as snow flakes, what seemed little pearly clouds, but blossomed into flowers and then changed into sweet faces, that all smiled on her as they pa.s.sed by.

Among these the little girl searched eagerly for her father's face, when all at once he took her in his arms, and said, "Ha, my Daisy! is it you?" in his own merry, pleasant way.

This startled her so much that she awoke, only to fall asleep again, and dream another dream as wonderful.

But at length the morning sun had crept around the side of the cottage, found its way through the window, and fell so full on Daisy's face, that she could dream only of dazzling, dazzling light, which seemed burning into her eyes, and made her open them wide, at length.