But past them all the Little Girl ran, laughing at the wind, brushing off the dirt that spotted her starched dress, and forgetting all about her bruises and scratches. On and on she ran, her eye fixed on the fleecy white cloud, her heart aching to fondle it, and her legs tireless in their never-ending race for the stars. TO PLEASE EIGHT AND A HALF First of all there was Mildred, who was eleven, and quite sedate. Then there were the twins, Eveline and Madeline, who were eight and a half and eight and a half and ten minutes old, respectively, and who liked stories. “Can you tell ’em?” Madeline inquired anxiously. She was curled up in my lap, and when she spoke she wrinkled up her nose in a funny little way that hid the one freckle on its tip that was the only means of distinguishing her from Eveline. “I’ll try,” I offered. “Make it about goblins, please,” ordered Madeline. “And fairies,” Eveline added. “And real people, too,” suggested Mildred who was, as I said, eleven, and almost beyond fairies, which was rather a pity. “Once upon a time,” I started, and paused. A grown-up had interrupted us with some foolish grown-up question. “Once upon a time,” again I began. “You said that before,” objected Eveline. “Yes’m,” accused Madeline. “--Many, many years ago, there was a big forest, bigger than any you have ever seen.” “’Scuse me, Ma’am, I know where there is a biggest forest.” “Well, this was even bigger,” I insisted. “So big, in fact, that the leaves were as large as--as the flowers on that chair.” I finished pointing to the exaggerated tapestry on the furniture. “Now at the edge of the woods there was a little village, where a blacksmith lived, with his only daughter, Hope. “One day he sent Hope out into the forest to pick berries. As she went into the woods, by the little path which led from her house, there hopped out on it a little bunny--like the ones in the park, you know, excepting that this one had =two= tails.” (“Why?” asked Madeline. “To clean out his house with, of course,” explained Mildred.) “Now, although Hope had walked in the forest ever since she was a little girl, she had never, =never= seen a bunny with two tails. So she followed this one. Further and further she went, and darker and darker it grew, but Hope did not notice this, for she was too busy watching Mr. Two-tails. “Suddenly he disappeared, and left her standing in front of a great, green-grey stone. It was very dark, and poor Hope was very much frightened. I would have been, too. Wouldn’t you?” Three heads bobbed up and down energetically, and three pairs of eyes opened =very= wide. “But she was a sensible little girl, and knew that the good fairies would help her. So she knocked on the stone. There started a whirring noise, as of wings. “Say the magic word, and tell me your name,” sang a silvery voice. “Hope,” said the little girl.