"I'm sure anybody would," retorted Nelly: "it's perfectly splendid." "You just tie it on," said Rob: "nobody'll touch it." Nelly had run around to the back side of the house. A small window, which opened from a sort of closet where Ulrica kept milk, was open a little. Nelly squeezed the bouquet in, and ran back to Rob. "I've thrown it in at the closet window," she said. "What do you suppose she'll think when she sees it? She'll think fairies brought it. Ulrica believes in fairies: she told me so." "She don't, though: does she?" exclaimed Rob. "What a goose!" "I think it would be nice to believe in them," replied Nelly. "I do, just a little, wee wee bit. I don't mean really believe, you know; but just a little bit. I guess there used to be fairies, ever so many, many years ago; oh! longer ago than our great, great, great grandmother: don't you?" "No!" said Rob, very contemptuously: "there never could have been any such thing, not since the world began. It's just made-up stories for girls." "Oh, Rob!" cried Nelly: "you used to like to hear the story about the singing tree, the talking bird, and the laughing water; don't you know?" "That ain't a fairy story," said Rob: "it's a--a--I forget what mamma called it. Don't you recollect how she explained it all to us?--how it was all true?" "Oh! you mean a parable," said Nelly. "That's what mamma said,--that it meant that we should all find singing trees and talking birds and laughing water, if we loved them enough. But it's a fairy story too, besides all that." The children had a droll time going to people's houses so early. Nobody was up. At Mrs. Clapp's, they had to pound and pound before they could wake anybody. Then Mr. Clapp put his head out of a window to see what had happened. "Goodness!" he said: "here are the children with the butter. How did they ever get up here so early?" And he ran down to open the door. "Ask them to stay to breakfast," said Mrs. Clapp. "The poor little things must be faint." Nelly and Rob thanked Mr. Clapp, but said they could not stop. "We had a splendid breakfast at home," said Rob, triumphantly. When Mr. Clapp went back to his room, he said to his wife:-- "Poor little things, indeed! You wouldn't have called them so, if you'd seen them. Their eyes shone like diamonds, and their cheeks were just like roses; and they looked as full of frolic as kittens. I declare I do envy March those children. That Nelly's going to make a most beautiful woman." Rob and Nelly reached Mr. Kleesman's door at eight o'clock. His curtains were down; no sign of life about the place. "I say, Nell, aren't the Rosita people lazy!" exclaimed Rob. "What'll we do now?" "Sit down here on the step and wait," said Nelly. "He always comes out here, the first thing, and looks off down into the valley, and at the mountains. I used to see him when we were at the hotel."