"Do not fear us, little Earth Child," he said. "It is we that have cause to fear you. You have only to blink your eyes, pretend to be knowing, and we are nothing. But your eyes are so wide and so clear, we trust you. Ivra told us there was not the tiniest shadow in them, not even the shadow of leaf. Only hunger. But we're not afraid of hunger. Come, have a good time at the party." Then the Tree Girl, the Tree Man's daughter, came to him. She was shy, and shook all her soft brown hair about her cheeks. A circle of little yellow leaves kept her hair from her eyes, which, in spite of her bashfulness, were steady and kind like her father's. "I am glad you are here." she said. From that minute Eric felt at home in the tree. Eric and Ivra were the first of the guests. The others perhaps had been too scared to come. But soon knock after knock sounded at the door, and in flocked the Forest People who had been invited. First came the Bird Fairies, five of them together, merry and good little creatures as ever lived in the wood. They had arrived only that day from their summer homes in the far north, 'way up among the snow-barrens. They always spent the winter in this wood, living in the empty birds' nests and spending their time making up songs to teach the birds that would come back in the spring. Bird Fairies cannot sing a note themselves, nor carry an air, but they make up fine songs for the spring birds, who while they can sing with beautiful voices really have but few ideas. They are fluffy, cuddly, swift little creatures, tiny and quiet. One might think them of little account just at first, but not for long. For they are the farthest-traveled of all the Forest People, except the Wind Creatures only. Now they were fluttering in, and off came their white cloaks and forth they hopped in bright colors, little feet twinkling and pattering, little wings lifting and wavering. They gathered around the Tree Man, nestling in a row on his shoulder, running up and down his arms, giving all of the news of their long journey into his ear. He chuckled and chuckled and soon sat down by the table again, nodding his head with delight at the tales they were telling him. Meanwhile, another group entered,--the Forest Children. The Forest Children are little girls and boys who live all by themselves in moss houses deep in the thickest of the forest, and know nothing of mothers, nurses or schools. They came tumbling, cheering, and skipping in, curls bobbing, eyes shining. When their white cloaks were taken off with the help of the Tree Girl and Ivra, it was plain to see that they had no mothers. Their frocks were torn and stained, and half their sandal-strings untied and flapping. The Tree Girl sighed as she patted the bobbing curls into some order, tied the laces and straightened a buckle here and there. Now the room was musical with sound.