In the first place, I want to know why fairies should always be teaching _us_ to do our duty, and lecturing _us_ when we go wrong, and we should never teach _them_ anything? You can't mean to say that fairies are never greedy, or selfish, or cross, or deceitful, because that would be nonsense, you know. Well, then, don't you agree with me that they might be all the better for a little scolding and punishing now and then? I really don't see why it shouldn't be tried, and I'm almost sure (only _please_ don't repeat this loud in the woods) that if you could only catch a fairy, and put it in the corner, and give it nothing but bread and water for a day or two, you'd find it quite an improved character; it would take down its conceit a little, at all events. The next question is, what is the best time for seeing fairies? I believe I can tell you all about that. The first rule is, that it must be a _very_ hot day--that we may consider as settled; and you must be just a _little_ sleepy--but not too sleepy to keep your eyes open, mind. Well, and you ought to feel a little--what one may call "fairyish"--the Scotch call it "eerie," and perhaps that's a prettier word; if you don't know what it means, I'm afraid I can hardly explain it; you must wait till you meet a fairy, and then you'll know. And the last rule is, that the crickets shouldn't be chirping. I can't stop to explain that rule just now--you must take it on trust for the present. So, if all these things happen together, you've a good chance of seeing a fairy--or at least a much better chance than if they didn't. The one I'm going to tell you about was a real, naughty little fairy. Properly speaking, there were two of them, and one was naughty and one was good, but perhaps you would have found that out for yourself. Now we really _are_ going to begin the story. It was Tuesday afternoon, about half-past three,--it's always best to be particular as to dates,--and I had wandered down into the wood by the lake, partly because I had nothing to do, and that seemed to be a good place to do it in, and partly (as I said at first) because it was too hot to be comfortable anywhere, except under trees. The first thing I noticed, as I went lazily along through an open place in the wood, was a large beetle lying struggling on its back, and I went down directly on one knee to help the poor thing on its feet again. In some things, you know, you can't be quite sure what an insect would like; for instance, I never could quite settle, supposing I were a moth, whether I would rather be kept out of the candle, or be allowed to fly straight in and get burnt; or, again, supposing I were a spider, I'm not sure if I should be _quite_ pleased to have my web torn down, and the fly let loose; but I feel quite certain that, if I were a beetle and had rolled over on my back, I should always be glad to be helped up again.