“Getting the leaves ready to turn,” said Sunny. “I know what that means. It means I must be going.” Tina couldn’t imagine what he meant, but she followed him. “I am getting very tired,” she said. “When will we get to Sunset Land?” “It will not be long, now,” said Sunny. “We will see the sentinel soon.” “I don’t believe I can go any further,” said Tina, “unless I rest.” “Just a few moments,” said Sunny, kindly. “When we come in sight of the sentinel, we will be all right, and can rest as long as we want to.” They walked a few yards, and in among the bushes Tina spied a man standing. “There he is,” said Sunny, and he sat down under a large tree. Tina threw herself down beside him, and he drew her head down on his lap; she took hold of his hand, and in a few moments was fast asleep. [Illustration: [Couple]] THE ROSE GARDEN. Tina thought she had slept some time when she heard a voice singing: “I must go, I must go, To the Sunset Land; Where the golden rivers Roll on golden sand; And the purple mountains, With their peaks so bright, Tower up by mansions Built of clouds of light. Sleep, Tina, sleep, The rivers are deep! I’ll away, I’ll not stay! Fare you well! “Fare you well! Fare you well! I must go, ’tis late; And I see opened wide, The sunlit gate Of that beautiful land, Where the cloud shapes stand, With their robes wind-blown, When the sun goes down. Dream, Tina, dreams Of those golden gleams. Think of me, When you see The Sunset Land.” But it was some time before she could wake up at all, and then she saw that the little boy had gone, and she was lying with the fan in her hand. “I don’t remember having this with me,” she said; “but I suppose I must have taken it, or it wouldn’t be here. I wonder where Sunny has gone; it is too bad I couldn’t get to the Sunset Land after all. That must have been he singing to me. But how this fan came here is a mystery to me. There is another face, of course. I knew it. I wonder how this is going to turn out? It looks like a girl, but I’m not so sure that it is. It has a ruffle around its neck—no it isn’t a ruffle. I believe it has wings.” The wings fluttered, and something flew out. “Why, you’re a butterfly,” said Tina.