"Her hair's just about the right length now," I said. "And perhaps she could give me congenial employment. I wouldn't mind being Minister of Transport. There's quite a good salary attached. But of course she may have ideas of her own on the subject." Feeling curious, I went in search of Veronica. I found her at a private dance given by the butterflies and hollyhocks at the other end of the lawn. When she saw me she came to meet me and made her excuses very politely. "We've just been wondering what you're going to be when you've stopped being a little girl," I said. "Me?" said Veronica calmly. "Oh, I'm going to be a fairy. You don't want me to be anything else, do you?" she added anxiously. Even the Prime Minister's post seemed suddenly quite flat. "Oh, no," I said. "I think you've made a very good choice." But she was not quite satisfied. "I shall hate going away from you," she said. "Couldn't you come too?" "Where?" "To Fairyland." "Ah!" I said, "that takes some thinking about. Could we come back if we didn't like it?" "N-no, I don't fink so. I've never heard of anyone doing that. But you'll love it," she went on earnestly. "You'll be ever so tiny and you can draw funny frost pictures wiv rainbows and fold up flowers into buds and splash dew-water over everyfing at night and ride on butterflies and help the birds to make nests. Fink what _fun_ to help a bird to make a nest! You'll _love_ it!" "Is that all?" I said sternly. "Are you keeping nothing from me? What about witches and spells and being turned into frogs? I'm sure I remember that in my fairy tales." "Oh, nothing that _matters_," she said quickly. "You can always _tell_ a witch, you know, and we'll keep out of their way. An' if a nasty fairy turns you into a frog a nice one will always turn you back quite soon. It's all right. You mustn't worry about _that_. There won't be any fun if you don't come too, darlin'," she ended shamelessly. I considered. "Veronica," I said at last, "is there such a thing as Ireland in Fairyland? Is there an exchange that won't keep steady? Is there any labour trouble?" She shook her head. "I've never heard of anyfing that sounded like those," she said; "I'm sure there isn't." "That decides it," I said. "We'll all come. As soon as you can possibly arrange it." She heaved a sigh of relief and ran off to tell the glad news to the butterflies and hollyhocks. So that's settled. I think we've made a wise decision. After all, what's a witch or two, or even a temporary existence as a frog, compared with a coal strike? * * * * * THE WAIL OF THE WASP. When that I was a tiny grub, And peevish and inclined to blub, Mother, my Queen, My infant grief you would assuage With promise of the ripe greengage And purple sheen Of luscious plums, "When Autumn comes."