“Welcome home!” she cried sweetly, smiling upon him. “Welcome home, dear friend. You have had your task and it is ended. Your wish is fulfilled. You have been of great use to the world, and it will bless your name more and more as the years go by. Come, now, and rest.” Tenderly she took him by the hand, aiding him to rise. He lifted himself, feebly at first, but seeming to gain strength from her touch. The Dryad wrapped her green mantle around his shoulders, leading him towards the oak. And lo! When they reached the little door, he turned and smiled at the company, waving his hand in a last farewell, but speaking no word. And they looked at him amazed, such a change seemed to have passed over him; but they could not say how, save that the weight of years, the weariness, the sorrow, the yearning, seemed to have slipped away. He smiled at them, and it was not the smile of a simpleton, but of one who knew the meaning of strange things. Then the Dryad drew him gently after her and they passed in through the little door, into the heart of the great oak tree. Noiselessly it closed behind them, leaving not a crack to show where it had been. And this was the last ever seen of Karl and the Dryad. But the people were left staring at one another, as folk do when they have seen something that they cannot understand. TREES However little I may be, At least I too can plant a tree. And some day it will grow so high That it can whisper to the sky, And spread its leafy branches wide To make a shade on every side. Then on a sultry summer day, The people resting there will say,-- “Oh, good and wise and great was he Who thought to plant this blessed tree!” THE INDIAN FAIRY [Illustration] THE INDIAN FAIRY I “Katie has been complaining again of the queer noises in the cellar,” said Rob’s mother, as she passed the coffee cup to her husband across the breakfast table. “It must be rats,” said Rob’s papa. “We will get a trap.” “It is very strange,” said Mamma again, “the girls declare that the noises seem to come from the old well. That is what all our servants have said for years. You know some of them have been so frightened that they gave us notice, because of the noises in the well. They think it is bewitched.” “What is ‘bewitched,’ Mamma?” asked Rob. “Pooh, pooh!” said Rob’s papa. “It is only rats, I know, and the noises do not come from the well, but from the wall. There must be a rat’s nest in the wall close by the well. I have heard about those noises ever since I was a little boy. Sometimes I used to think that I heard them myself, and I fancied all sorts of queer things. But of course it was nothing but rats.” Rob had been listening with round eyes, and now he cried eagerly, “O Papa! I did not know that there was a well under the house. How did it come there, and what is it for?”