THE LITTLE HOUSE IN THE FAIRY WOOD

by

ETHEL COOK ELIOT

 TO TORKA AND NORTHWIND

CONTENTS

 I. MAGIC IN A MIST II. THE BRIGHT HOUSE III. FIRELIGHT IV. THE GOSSIP V. WORLD STORIES VI. AT THE HEART OF A TREE VII. TREE MOTHER AND THE DROWSY BOAT VIII. A WITCH AT THE WINDOW IX. THE WIND HUNT X. ON THE GRAY WALL XI. THE BEAUTIFUL WICKED WITCH XII. IVRA'S BIRTHDAY XIII. NORA'S GRANDCHILDREN XIV. SPRING COMES XV. SPRING WANDERING XVI. OVER THE TREE TOPS XVII. THE JUNE MOON XVIII. THE DEEPEST PLACE IN THE WOOD XIX. MORE MAGIC IN A MIST

CHAPTER I

MAGIC IN A MIST

That morning began no differently from any morning, though it was to bethe beginning of all things new for Eric. He was awakened early by Mrs. Freg's rough hand shaking him by the arm, and her rough voice in hisears: "Get up, lazy-bones! _All_ you boys pile out, this very minute!It's six o'clock already!" Then she reached over Eric and shook theother two boys in the bed with him, repeating and repeating "Wake up, wake up! It's six o'clock already!" When she was sure the three boys inthe bed were awake and miserable, she crossed the room with a hurried, heavy tread and clumped, clumped down the stairs into the kitchen. 

Though it happened just that way every morning, and it had happened sothis morning, this day was to be very different from any other in Eric'slife. But Eric could not know that; so he crawled farther down under thefew bedclothes he had managed to keep to himself, and shut his eyesagain just for a minute. 

The night had been a cold one, and the other two boys in the bed, because they were older and stronger, had managed to keep most of thebedding wrapped tightly around them, while little Eric shivered on thevery edge. So he had not slept at all in the way little boys of nineusually sleep, --that is, when they have a bed to themselves, and theirmother has left a kiss with them. When he had slept, he had dreamed hewas wading in icy puddles out in the street. 

But it was only a minute that he huddled there, trying to come reallyawake, and then he sprang out, and without thought of a bath, was intohis clothes in a minute. The two older boys followed him more slowly, yawning, growling, and quarreling. 

Breakfast was served in the kitchen by Mrs. Freg. The room was bare andugly like the rest of the house, and the food was far from satisfying. As the older boys got most of the bedding for themselves, so they gotmost of the breakfast, while Mr. And Mrs. Freg laughed at them, andpraised them for fine, hearty boys who knew what they wanted and wouldget it. 

"You will succeed in the world, both of you, " said Mrs. Freg withmother-pride gleaming in her eyes, when they had managed to seize anddivide between them little Eric's steaming cup of coffee, --the only hotthing he had hoped for that morning. 

"Will I be a success, too?" asked Eric in a faint but hopeful voice. 

"You!" said the harsh woman. "You, young man, had better be thankful towork on at the canning instead of starving in the streets. That's thefate of most orphans. Success indeed! Now hurry along, all of you. It'squarter to seven. "

But right here is where the day began to differ from other days. Ericdid not hurry along. He threw down his spoon and cried, "I'd just assoon starve in the streets, and wade in its icy puddles, too, as livehere with you and your nasty boys and work in that old canning factory!I just wonder how you'd feel if I went out this morning and never, nevercame back! I'd like to do that!"

Mrs. Freg laughed, and her laugh was not a nice mother-laugh at all, forshe was not Eric's mother, and had never pretended that she was. 

"Why, little spitfire, it wouldn't matter a bit except to make one lessmouth to feed. But you won't be so silly as that. You don't want tostarve. "

"All right, " said little Eric, snatching his cap from its peg. "You saidit wouldn't matter to you. You won't see me again, any of you. I hateyou all, and everything in the world. I hate you. You've made me hateyou hard!"

Then he suddenly ran out into the street. 

In a minute he was in a flood of people, men, women and children movingtowards the canning factory, a big brick building on the outskirts ofthe city. Eric had worked in that factory from the day he was seven. There is no need to tell you what he did there, for this is not thestory of the canning factory Eric, --the queer, hating Eric who had wakedup that morning. 

But how he did hate! His eyes were full of hating tears, and they wererunning down his face, making horrid white streaks on his dirty cheeks. He was hating so hard that he did not even care if people saw his tears. He lifted his face straight up and dropped his arms straight down at hisside and walked right along, no matter how fast the tears came. 

Now he had often hated before, but never quite like this. Before, it hadbeen a frightened hate, a gnawing, hurting thing deep down in his heart. But to-day it was a flaring hate, a burning thing right up in his head. It was big, too, because it included everything that he knew, Mrs. Freg, her boys, the street, the people jostling him, and hottest and wildestof all the canning factory. How terrible to go in there in the morning, when the sun was only just up, and not to come out again until it wasquite down! Eric knew little about play, but he did know that if hecould only be let stay out in the sunshine he would find things to dothere. If they'd only let him try it once!

So he walked along in the direction the others were going, the hatingtears in his eyes and on his face. But no one laughed at him, and no oneasked him what was the matter, even the other children. For he was notcrying in the usual way with little boys. He was walking along with hishead up. So people did not bother him. 

He had reached the outskirts of the town, and was almost in the shadowof the big, cruel factory, when the Magic began to work. For there wasmagic in this day that had started so badly. It was only waiting forEric to see it before it would take hold of him and carry him away intohappiness. It had waited for him at the door of the dull, bare littlehouse that had never been home to him, but his tears would not let himsee it. So it had followed along beside him all the way to the factory, waiting for him to feel, even if he could not see. And he didfeel, --just in time to let the Magic work. 

He felt that the day that had begun so freezingly was warm, strangelywarm. He wiped the tears from his eyes away to the side of his face withhis sleeve, and looked about. The sun was very bright, but in a mild, pleasant way. And a tree on the other side of the street was showeringsoftly, softly, softly, yellow autumn leaves, until they covered thecobblestones all around. Eric did not think about being late. The Magicwas pulling him now. He went across and stood under the tree, and feltthe leaves showering on his head and shoulders, and caught a few in hishands. 

All the people passed, and soon the last one was hidden behind the heavyfactory door. Eric gave the door a glance or two, but did not go. Overthe roof of the factory he saw the tops of tall trees waving. He hadnever looked so high above the factory before. But he knew there was awood on the other side, a wood he had always been too tired to think ofexploring, even on holidays. Now he saw the tops of the tall treesbeckoning him in a golden mist. "The mist is the yellow leaves they'redropping, " thought Eric. With every beckon the golden mist of leavesgrew brighter and brighter, until he could not see the beckoning anymore, but only the mist. Still he knew the beckoning was going on behindthe mist. 

"If I'm to live in the streets at night, " he thought to himself, "there's no need to live in the factory by day. I'll just go and seewhat those trees want of me. "

Very slowly, with little firm steps, he went by the factory door, andthen around under its windows to the wood at the back. 

It was Indian Summer. That was why the golden leaves were showering in amist, and why the sun was so warm. 

Eric dropped his ragged coat and cap on the edge of the wood, --it was sowarm, --and went in. 

A little girl had been watching him from her place at one of the factorywindows where she was sorting cans. She had seen him before, working atthe factory, day after day, and they had played together sometimes inthe noon half hour. Now she wondered what he was doing out there. Hadthey sent him, perhaps, to do a different kind of work that could onlybe done in the woods? But as he walked away in under the trees fartherand farther, the golden mist that was over the wood drew in about him;and although she leaned far forward over the cans at a great risk ofknocking over dozens and setting them rolling, --he was lost in it. Ithad dropped down behind him like a curtain. 

CHAPTER II

THE BRIGHT HOUSE

Eric knew nothing of the little girl and her thoughts. He was walking ina golden mist, but he could see quite perfectly, and even far ahead downlong tree aisles. At first the trees did not grow very close together, and there was little underbrush. Several narrow paths started off indifferent directions, --straight little paths made by people who knewwhere they were going. But Eric did not know where he was going, so hestruck off in a place where there was no sign of a path. Soon the treesdrew closer and closer together, until their branches locked fingersoverhead and shook the yellow leaves down for each other. The leavesshowered softly and steadily. Eric's feet rustled loudly in them. 

Soon he stopped and took off his worn shoes and stockings. He left themwhere he took them off and went on, barefoot. Now that he was only inhis shirt and trousers he began to run and leap. He leapt for thedrifting leaves, and he ran farther and farther into the happystillness. 

The trees crowded and crowded, and the mist of leaves grew brighter andbrighter. No birds sang, for they had all flown away for the winter, andthere were no flowers. But the drifting leaves hid the bareness, andmagic covered everything. 

After Eric had run and leapt and waded in the crackling pools of leavesfor a long time, he grew hungry. "But there is no food here, " hethought; "and anyway it doesn't matter. It's much better to be hungryhere than in the dirty streets. "

He decided to go to sleep and forget about it. So he lay down in theleaves. They fell over him, a steady, gentle shower, and he slept long, and without dreaming anything. 

But when he woke he was cold. And worse than that, the golden mist hadfaded. It was almost twilight. The light was cold and still and gray. While he slept Indian Summer had vanished and its magic with it. 

Now no matter how fast Eric ran, or how high he jumped, he was chillythrough and through. But he did not think of trying to find the way outof the wood. The streets would be as cold as the forest, and never, never, never, if he starved and froze, was he going back to that housein the village where he had lived but never belonged. So he went onuntil the gray light faded, and the soft rustle of falling leaveschanged to the noise of wind scraping in bare branches. When he was verycold, and ready to lie down and sleep again to forget, he came quitesuddenly on an opening in the trees. In the dim light he saw a littlegarden closed in with a hedge of baby evergreens. The wind was rustlingthrough the stalks of dead flowers in the garden. But in the middle ofit was a little low house, and the windows and doors were glowing likenew, warm flowers. 

Yes, it was a house and a garden away there in the wood, but no path ledto it through the forest, and there was a strangeness about it as aboutno house or garden Eric had ever seen. 

Although no path led through the wood to the house, a path did runthrough the garden to the low door stone. Eric went up it and stoodlooking in at the door, which was open. 

The glow of the house came from a leaping, jolly fire in a big stonefire-place, and from half a dozen squat candles set in brackets aroundthe walls. It was the one lovely room that Eric had ever seen. It was solarge that he knew it must occupy the whole of the little house. But inspite of all the brightness, the comers were dim and far. 

There were two strange people there, or they were strange to Ericbecause they were so different from any people he had ever known. Onewas a young woman who sat sewing cross-legged on a settle at the side ofthe fire-place. About her the strangest thing was her hair. It was notlike most women's, --long and twisted up on her head. It was short, andcurled back above her ears and across her forehead like flower-petals. It was the color of the candle-flames. But her face was brown, and herneck and long hands were brown, as though she had lived a long time inthe sun. Her eyes that were lifted and scarcely watching the work in herhands, were very quiet and gray. 

She was watching and talking to a little girl who was skipping back andforth between a rough tea-table set near the fire and an opencupboard-door in the wall. She was carrying dishes to the table, and nowand then stopping to stir something good-smelling which hung over thefire in a pewter pot, with a strong bent twig for a handle. 

The child was strange in a very different way from her mother. Themother, one could see, was merry in spite of her quiet eyes. But thechild was pale. Her face was pale and little and round. Her hair waspale, too, the color of ashes, and braided in two smooth little braidshanging half way down her back. She moved with almost as much swiftnessas the fire-shadows, and as softly too. 

Both mother and daughter were dressed in rough brown smocks, with narrowgreen belts falling loosely, --strange garments to Eric. And their feetwere bare. 

But stranger than the house, stranger than the people in it, was thefact that the mother was talking to the little girl just as people ofthe same age talk to each other; and though Eric was shaking with coldand aching with hunger, he could still wonder deeply at that. 

"It's a long way 'round by the big pine, " she was saying; "but you see Iam home in time for supper. Suppose I had not come until after dark. What would you have done, Ivra?"

The little girl stopped in her busy-ness to stand on one foot and thinka second. "Why, I'd have put the supper over the fire, lighted thecandles, and run out to meet you. "

"Oh, but you wouldn't know which way to run. I might come from anydirection. "

"I'd follow the wind, " cried Ivra, lifting her serious face and risingto her tiptoes, one arm outstretched, as though she were going to followthe wind right then and there. 

It was at that minute they noticed the door had blown open, and that alittle boy was standing in it, looking at them. 

But they neither stared nor exclaimed. Ivra ran to him, her arms stilloutstretched in the flying gesture, and drew him in. His dirty face wasstreaked with tears, and his legs and feet were blue with the cold. Theyknew it was not question-time, but comfort-time, so the mother folded anarm about him, and Ivra skipped more rapidly than ever between thecupboard and the table. Almost at once supper was ready, and the tableset for three. As the last thing, Ivra brought all the candles and setthem in the middle of the table. They sat down, --Eric with his back tothe fire. It warmed him through and through, but their friendly faceswarmed him more. 

Very little was said, but when the meal was nearly over Ivra asked himhow long he was going to stay with them. Immediately he stopped eatingand dropped his spoon. His eyes filled with tears. He had utterlyforgotten about his plight until then, --how he was homeless, worklessand bound to starve and freeze sooner or later. Ivra's mother saw themisery in his face and quietly spoke, "We hope for a long time. As longas you want to, anyway. Three in a wood will be merrier than two in awood. . . . If you like me I will be your mother. "

Ivra clapped her hands. "Stay always, " she cried. "I will be yourplaymate. There will be many playmates besides, too, and I will help youfind them. "

Eric glowed. The hatred that had been flaring in his head suddenlyfaded, and the heavy thing that had been his heart for as long as hecould remember, became light as thistledown. He looked at the mother andthe kindness in her eyes made him tremble. "I will stay and be yourchild, " he said. 

CHAPTER III

FIRELIGHT

When supper was done the three put away the supper things, carried thetable back to its place in the corner, and set the candles in theirbrackets about the walls. Then almost at once the mother said it wasbath-time and bed-time. 

Bath-time! Baths had been rare in Eric's life, and when they did happenwere unhappy adventures, --cold water in a hand basin in the kitchensink, a scratchy sponge, and a towel too small. So if Mrs. Freg had said"bath-time and bed-time" to him now, he might have run away. But ifIvra's mother said it, it must be. She was _his_ mother too, now, and heloved her and thought her beautifully strange. 

A surprise was waiting for him. The bath was a deep basin set in thewall. There was a fountain in it that one had only to turn on to havethe basin fill with clear water. Eric slipped out of his ragged shirtand trousers and climbed up into it. The fountain came splashing down onhis dusty, shaggy head, falling in rivulets down his back and breast. Hewas like a bird taking a bath; there was such happy splashing anddipping. 

But no bird had ever the gentle soft drying, or was wrapped in such awarm night gown as the mother found for Eric. It was one of Ivra's nightgowns, but quite large enough. Then she tucked him into a narrow couchfar from the fire. It was the first time Eric could ever remember havingslept alone. 

Ivra was already in a bed against the opposite wall. Before the mothergot into hers, which was open and ready for her, she blew out all thecandles and opened the door and windows. 

"Good night, my lambs, " she said, and a very few minutes afterwards Ericcould see by the firelight that his mother and playmate were asleep. 

How cold the wind felt as it blew over his face! But how warm and snughis body was, there in the soft, clean night gown between the light, warm blankets! How fine to be there so warm in bed while his cheeks grewred in the cold air and burned deliciously. How could he ever sleep? Hewas too happy!

He looked at the fire. And then he looked harder. It was not a fire atall, but a young girl, all bright and golden, sitting with her headdrowsily bent forward on her knees and her arms wrapped close about herlegs. But as he watched she slowly lifted her bright head, and lookedquietly about the room. Then she gradually and beautilully rose andstepped out of the fireplace onto the floor. Slowly she moved across tothe mother's couch and stood still as though looking down at her. Slowlyshe bent and drew the bed-clothes higher about her shoulders, and kissedthe flower-petal hair curled back on the pillow. 

She moved then to Ivra's couch, still slowly and very beautifully, andEric could see her smile at the little one huddled there, half on herface, one arm thrown up over her head. Gently the fire-girl rolled herinto a relaxed position on her side, tucked in the flung arm, and kissedthe closed eyelids. 

Then she stood a minute, looking away, Eric did not know where. But hisheart began to ache with wonder and longing. Would she come to himtoo--or was he only a stranger?

He lay still, watching her from his dark corner. At last she stoppedlooking away, and came across the floor to him. She brought all thebrightness of the room with her, and her feet made no sound on theboards. When she stood above him he shut his eyes, though he wanted verymuch to look up into her face. She bent down and her hands smoothed hiscovers, warmed his pillow and lay still for a minute like sunlight onhis cheek. 

When he opened his eyes again, she had gone back to the fireplace, allher brightness with her, and was resting there, a drowsy, golden girl, her head bent forward on her knees and her slim arms wrapped close abouther legs. 

Eric lay and watched her for many sleepy minutes while her light felldimmer and dimmer, lower and lower. When it was just a tiny flicker hedropped to sleep. 

CHAPTER IV

THE GOSSIP

He slept long and deeply, for when he woke he felt rested. But he did notopen his eyes. "It must be time for Mrs. Freg to shake me, " he wasthinking. "Until she does I'll just stay as I am and pretend it wasn't adream, but real. " For although he remembered very well all that hadhappened to him yesterday, he could not believe it was true. 

So he lay still in his snug bed, wondering that Mrs. Freg's boys hadleft him so much of the bed-clothes. "How fine to have a little time topretend a dream!" he said to himself. But Mrs. Freg did not come and didnot come, until at last he opened his eyes, just in wonderment. "It mustbe six o'clock!"

When he saw where he was, and that the dream was true, his heart almoststood still for joy. He was indeed far away in the woods, safe and snugand warm in this bright house, and Mrs. Freg could never reach him here. And he would not go to the canning factory that day, nor the next, northe next, nor ever again. The new mother had said so. His happinessbrought him up in bed wide awake, and then he got out. He had notlearned to bound out yet, but that came. 

The fire was burning merrily. All was in order, the beds made and pushedback against the wall, the hearth swept, and some clusters of bright redberries arranged above the fireplace. But where were Ivra andHelma?--Ivra had called her mother "Helma" last night, and so it wasthat Eric already called her and thought of her. There was not thetiniest sign of them. 

Oh, but yes. There on the floor near the hearth lay a little brownsandal, one of its strings pulled out and making a curlycue on thefloor. That must belong to Ivra. The fire, the red berries, and thelittle, worn sandal, seemed to be wishing Eric a good morning and ahappy day. There was plenty of mush in the pot swinging over the fire, and on the table drawn up to it, a wooden spoon, a bowl, and a jug ofrich cream. So they had not forgotten him. They had only let him sleepas long as he would. They must have stolen about like mice, gettingbreakfast, clearing up, and tidying the room; and then closed the doorvery softly behind them when they went out. 

And wonder of wonders! After yesterday's Indian Summer, outside it was awild winter day. Gusts of snow were hurling against all the windows ofthe house, and blowing a fine spray under the door. Eric with his faceagainst a windowpane could see only as far as the evergreen hedgebecause the trees beyond were wreathed in whirling snowclouds. The deadflowers in the garden were hidden under the blowing snow. The littlestraight walk up to the door was lost in it, and the footprints Ivra andHelma must have made when they went away were hidden too. 

Something red blew against the hedge. For a minute Eric thought it was abig bird. But it found the opening and came through, and then he saw itwas a little old woman. She came briskly up to the house, a red capeblowing about her, sometimes right up over her head, for because of thejug she was carrying she could not hold it down. She walked in withoutstopping to knock and was as surprised to see Eric there as he was tosee her. But she got over it at once. 

"Good morning, " she said cheerfully, going across the room, whisking apitcher out of the cupboard and emptying her jug of milk into it. "Thisis the milk for them, and it's as much as ever that I got here with it. The wind is in a fine mood-pushed me here and there all the way throughthe wood, and tried to steal my cape from me, say nothing of Helma'smilk! Perhaps some of the Wind Creatures wanted them, or it might be oldTree Man himself, looking for a winter cape for his daughter. But Isaid, 'No, no. The milk is for Helma and little Ivra! I take it to themevery morning and I'll take it this morning whether or no, so pull allyou like--cape or milk you'll not get. The cape has a good clasp, andI've a good hold of the jug. Pull away!"

Here the old woman--the pitcher put away, and the cupboard doorclosed--dropped down on the settle and waited for Eric to speak. She wasa jolly little old woman, one could see at a glance. Her face was thecolor of a good red apple, and just as round and shiny. Her eyes werebeady black, bright and quick, and surrounded by a hundred finestwrinkles, that all the smiles of her life had made. Her mouth was pursedup like a button, out of which her words came shooting, quick and brightand merry. 

Eric stood looking at her, not thinking to say anything. So after thebriefest pause she went on, peeping into the pot. 

"I see you have some mush here, so as I've come all the way from thefarm and am ready for a second breakfast after my tussle with the wind, I'll share it with you. Or perhaps you have had yours already. "

"No, no, " cried Eric, suddenly remembering how hungry he was and hopingshe would not take it all. "I have just waked up. "

"So. Then we'll breakfast together, " and away she flew to the cupboardagain and brought out a second bowl and spoon. Then she stirred the mushround and round a few times and dished it up. Eric noticed that shedivided it exactly evenly. She flooded both bowls with cream, andtogether they sat down to it. What a good breakfast that was, and howfast the little old woman talked!

But in spite of all her talking and flying around she had looked Eric upand down and through and through, and made up her mind what kind of aperson he was. What she saw was a pale little boy of nine in a raggedshirt and trousers, and barefooted. His hair was shaggy and unbrushedbut tossed back from a wide brow. His mouth was sullen. But she forgotall about shabby clothes, unbrushed hair, and sullen mouth when she cameto his eyes. They were wide and clear, and returned the old woman's keenglance with a gaze of steady interest. Sullen and pale, butclear-eyed--she liked the little stranger. And so she went on talking. 

"I bring them milk every day. It's a long way here from my farm, but nottoo far when it's for them. Helma's gone into the village, hasn't she?When I came to Little Pine Hill this morning the snow stopped whirlingfor a minute, and I caught a glimpse of her a-striding across thefields. It's a fine way of walking she has--like the bravest of ForestPeople! When I reached the Tree Man's the wind didn't stop for me, but Ispied that child, Ivra, just where I knew she'd be, --racing and chasingand dancing with the Snow Witches out at the edge of the wood. 'It's apity she can't go with her mother, ' I said to myself when I saw her, 'and not be wasting her time like that. The Snow Witches are no good toany one. But--'"

Eric interrupted there, having finished his mush and pricking up hiscars at the mention of witches. 

"Are they really witches?" he cried. "And have you seen them yourself?"

"What else would they be?" asked the old woman. "They're the creaturesthat come out in windy, snowy weather, to dance in the open fields andrun along country roads. Ordinary people are afraid of them and stayindoors when they're about. Their streaming white hair has a way oflashing your face as they rush by, and then they never look wherethey're going. They care nothing about running into you and knocking thebreath out of you. Then, they're so cruel to children!"

"But Ivra isn't afraid of them!" wondered Eric. 

"Not she, " said the old woman. "She runs _with_ them instead of awayfrom them. When I saw them back there they had all taken hands and wereleaping in a circle around her. She was jumping and dancing in thecenter as wild and lawless as they, and just as high, too. . . . But it's apity she isn't with her mother all the same, going on decent errands inthe village. Only of course it's not her fault, poor child! She daren'tgo into the village. "

"Why _daren't_ she?" asked Eric. 

"_How_ dare she?" cried the old woman. "She'd be seen, for she's onlypart fairy, of course. But hush, hush!"

She clapped her hands over her mouth. "What am I telling you, --one ofthe secrets of the forest, and you a stranger here? You must forget itall. Ivra's a good child. Now don't ask me any more questions, or Imight tell you more. "

But Eric had begun to wonder. What did it mean, that Ivra was partfairy? And why wasn't it safe for her to be seen in the village? Andwere there really witches, and was she playing with them out there inthe wild day?

The old woman was talking on, but he heard no more. 

Then the door blew open in a snowy gust of wind, and there stood Helma, the mother, her arms full of bundles, her cheeks ruddy from the wind, and her short hair crisp and blown. 

CHAPTER V

WORLD STORIES

Now Eric learned that the old woman's name was Nora, for that was whatHelma called her, and seemed glad to find her there. She stayed on onlylong enough to see what Helma had brought in her bundles, and thenstarted out for the farm, drawing her red cape closely about her thistime, and not blowing much as she walked briskly to the gap in thehedge. Once through she disappeared quickly in the high drifting snow. Hardly had she gone her way when Ivra came from another, jumping thehedge and reaching the door in three bounds. 

Helma had bought a good deal of thick brown cloth in the village and astrip of brown leather. It was all for Eric. She had noticed his lack ofshoes and stockings last night, and that his worn clothes were much toopoor and thin for winter in the forest. To-day, while she sewed for him, he would have to stay in. That was a pity, for it is such fun out in astorm. By night, though, all would be finished. 

"And that is good!" exclaimed Ivra. "For to-night the Tree Man has askedus to a party. We're going to roast chestnuts and play games, andthere's to be a surprise, too. The Tree Girl called it all out to me asI passed just now. She put only her head through the door, for the snowcame so suddenly it caught her without a single white frock, --only abonnet. But that was pretty. It has five points like a star, mother. "

"The Tree Girl, " said Eric. "What a queer name! But how did she knowabout me to ask me too? Did she ask me?"

"I told her about you. And of course she asked you. You are myplaymate!"

Helma pulled a table to the settle and sat down with all the brown clothbefore her, a work-basket, and shears. But first she measured Eric forhis new clothes. 

"You may make the leggins, if you want to, " she said to Ivra, "and whenyou come to a hard place tell me and I will help. You may even measurethem yourself. . . . We're the only Forest People, Eric, who wear anythingbut white in the winter. Most Forest People like to be the color oftheir world. They often laugh at us. But I like brown. Ivra makes methink of a brown, blown leaf, and now here will be two of them! You canblow together all over the forest. "

Eric's eyes swam in sudden, happy tears, but he only said, "_Nora_ worered. "

"Oh, she's not one of us, " laughed Helma. "But she's lived close to usso long, she is able to see us. We aren't afraid of her. She's a goodneighbor. "

But why might they be afraid of such a nice old woman, Eric wondered. Hewas to learn sometime, and much beside, for this was the beginning ofnew things for him, and his mother, Helma, and Ivra were strange people. But how he loved them!

"Now that we are settled at our work, and nothing to interrupt, whatshall it be?" asked Helma. She and Ivra were sewing briskly, one in eachcorner of the settle. Eric was stretched on the floor, looking now intothe blaze, and now up at the windows where the snow tapped and swirled;for to-day, --Helma had said, --was to be a rest day for him. It was thefirst rest day he could remember, and how _good_ it was! To know hecould lie there with no cans to sort or label for hours, and no Mrs. Freg to boss him about when work was over! There were to be no more cansfor him forever, and no more Mrs. Freg. Helma had said that quitefirmly. He believed her and was so happy that he trembled. And so, itbeing true that never again should he go back to that unchildlike lifethat had frightened him so, and tired him so, all the breaths he drewfelt like sighs of relief, and he turned his shaggy little head on hisarm, crooked under it, and watched Helma's flying brown fingers withglad eyes. 

"What shall it be?" asked Helma. 

"Oh, World Stories, please, " said Ivra, drawing her feet up under her asshe bent over her sewing. 

"Eric probably knows very few of the World Stories, " said Helma. "Sosometime I shall have to go back to the beginning and tell them all overfor him. "

"And I'll stay and hear them over again too!" cried Ivra, dropping herwork to clasp her hands. "I love to hear stories over. "

"Why, better than that, you might tell them yourself. Would you likethat?"

"Oh, yes--if I can. Do you suppose I can, mother Helma? I shall begin atthe very beginning, way back before men were in the world at all, orfairies even. He'd like to hear about the big animals. And you willlisten, mother, to see that I get it all right?"

Now these World Stories of Helma's were wonderful stories, but all true. They began way back when the Earth was young. There were stories aboutthe Earth itself, how it hung in space and turned, making day and night. When the strange, great animals that by-and-by appeared on the Earth andhave since gone from it first came into the stories, and then, later, the floods and glaciers, and at last the first man, --any child mighthave listened with delight and wonder. Ivra had listened so ever sinceshe was a tiny girl, old enough to understand at all. And with man, andthe wonderful happenings that came along with him, Ivra had begged forthe stories day and night, and never could have enough of them. For thenin a great procession came the stories of cities and nations, of greatmen and women, of explorations and adventures. They led in turn tostories of languages and writing, of painting and geometry, of music andof life. The names of these things may not promise good stories to you, but that is only because you do not know them as stories. If you couldlisten to Helma telling them, by the fire, or out in the starlight, deepin the wood, or swinging in a tree-top, --then no other stories you mightever hear would satisfy you quite. So perhaps it is as well you do notknow now just where Helma's little house is standing deep in the woodunder the snow. 

Ivra always said that the nicest thing about the stories was theinterruptions. Helma never minded them, and she answered all thequestions Ivra asked. She answered them by making things that Ivra couldsee with her own eyes, by drawing pictures on the ground or in theashes, building with earth or snow, playing with wind and water, and ina hundred other ways. Sometimes the answer to a question would take upthe playtime of a whole day. 

But now Eric was to hear his first story, World Story or any other kind. Can you imagine how it would feel if to-day you were to hear the firststory of your life?

"All ready?" asked Helma. 

The silence in the room said plainer than words that all was ready forthe World Story. This time it was a story about a man named SaintFrancis, and a story after Eric's own heart. 

Almost as fast as the story went the work of Helma's fingers. But Ivrawas neither so swift nor so skilled, and the leggins were dropped manytimes from forgetful hands because all her thoughts were gone awayfollowing the story. 

Yet somehow the leggins got done, and the jacket and trousers got done, and even a little round cap, and all before dusk. For a finishing touchHelma sewed two soft little brown feathers she had picked up in the snowone on either side of the cap, --which gave Eric, small as they were andsoft as they were, a look of flying. 

Then nothing remained but the sandals, and because Eric was well restedby then, he was allowed to help at them. They were cut from the strip ofbrown leather, and Helma showed Eric how to shape them and sew themhimself. So after supper he stood attired, all in brown, a pale, happychild, ready for his first party. 

Ivra and Eric were to go to the Tree Man's party alone, for Helma wasgoing far away from the wood to spend the evening with a comrade. It wasto be a very long walk for her, for she put on her heaviest sandals andpulled the hood of her cloak up over her hair. 

She walked with the children as far as Little Pine Hill. It was a lowhill, bare of trees, except for a dwarfed pine on the top. In summer theslope was slippery with the needles of the little pine, but now it wasseveral inches deep in snow. It was bright starlight, and far away downan avenue of trees, Eric saw shining open fields, and beyond them thelights of the town. 

There Helma said good-by. Eric looking up at her in the starlight sawher hair like pale firelight under her dark hood and her eyes so calmand friendly. He clung to her hand for a minute. 

"Have a good time, " she told them. Ivra leapt away and Eric after her. Helma stood watching until their little forms had flickered out of sightamong tree-shadows. Then she sped down the starlit avenue towards theopen fields and the town. 

CHAPTER VI

AT THE HEART OF A TREE

Ivra and Eric ran until the stars were almost lost to them under the snowroof of the forest. Once Eric stopped to tie his sandal-string which hadloosened and was bothering him. Then the stillness of the world startledhim. 

He cried to Ivra to wait, and she came back to his side. "Don't befrightened, " she comforted. "There are Forest People near us. They wouldwalk with us, for some of them are going to the party too, but they areafraid of you. That's why they've drawn their white hoods over theirheads and keep away. Once we are inside the Tree Man's, though, it willbe all right. They'll come in too, and not be afraid any more. "

"But why are they afraid of me?" asked Eric, tugging at hissandal-string. "No one else has ever been afraid of me. Even Juno, Mrs. Freg's cat, who was afraid of 'most every one, liked me and jumped intomy lap. Why are the Forest People afraid?"

"Well, they are Forest People, you see, and you are an Earth Child. Mother and I weren't afraid of you, of course, because, --we aren'texactly Forest People. "

Ivra paused and the silence came back. Eric looked up at her. 

"Are you cold?" he asked. 

"No, no. " But she began to jump up and down and knock her heels togetherto get warm. Eric still struggled with his lacings. Ivra stopped jumpingand went down on her knees in the snow to straighten them out for him. Eric's fingers were awkward with knots, and besides, now, they were numbwith the cold. But Ivra had everything right in a minute. She crossedthe strings over his instep and tied them snugly above his ankle almostbefore he could think. Then they ran on. In starlit spaces Eric caughtglimpses of hurrying figures, so swift and light he could not tellwhether they walked or flew. Their cloaks sparkled white in starlightuntil he was not sure but they might be starbeams, and not Forest Peopleat all. 

One suddenly started up just at his elbow, and was away like the wind. Ivra began to run and to call after it. "Wild Star! Silly Wild Star!It's only I, Ivra, and my playmate. Wait for us!"

Eric followed her, running as fast as he could, but the snow held himback, and all the trees in the forest seemed to gather to stand in hisway. Ivra came back to him, laughing. "They are so afraid of you! No onewill come near us until the Tree Man is there to protect him. "

Soon they came to a big beech-tree standing in an open space withsmaller beeches making a circle around it. The starlight showed, strangely, a narrow door in the trunk. Ivra pushed it open and Ericfollowed in after her, wondering at going into a tree. 

They were on a flight of stairs lighted by starlight from a windowsomewhere high up. At the head of the flight they came to a door, andthrough the crack beneath it streamed a warmer light than starlight. Ivra opened that door gayly, and through it with her, Eric went to hisfirst party. 

It was the jolliest room in all the world. The firelight and candlelightdid not reach so far as the walls, but left them in soft darkness. SoEric had the feeling that the room was really much too large to beinside of a tree. But in spite of its bigness, it was very cozy. Thefireplace was in the middle of the floor, just a great hollowed boulder, heaped with crackling twigs. 

The candles, red, green, yellow, brown and orange, stood circlewise on atable by which the Tree Man sat, carving a doll out of a stick. Aworkbasket on the table was overflowing with bright threads and piecesof queer cloth. 

Eric saw these things because just for a minute he was too shy to lookat the people in the room. Almost at once he had to look at the TreeMan, however, for he came and shook him by the shoulders. Eric had beenshaken by the shoulders before, so he shrank away. But this was verydifferent from Mrs. Freg's shakings. The Tree Man was chuckling, notscolding, and the dark eyes that Eric looked up above the long whitebeard to find were friendly and wise. 

"Do not fear us, little Earth Child, " he said. "It is we that have causeto 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 trustyou. Ivra told us there was not the tiniest shadow in them, not even theshadow of leaf. Only hunger. But we're not afraid of hunger. Come, havea 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 littleyellow leaves kept her hair from her eyes, which, in spite of herbashfulness, were steady and kind like her father's. "I am glad you arehere. " 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 beentoo scared to come. But soon knock after knock sounded at the door, andin flocked the Forest People who had been invited. 

First came the Bird Fairies, five of them together, merry and goodlittle creatures as ever lived in the wood. They had arrived only thatday from their summer homes in the far north, 'way up among thesnow-barrens. They always spent the winter in this wood, living in theempty birds' nests and spending their time making up songs to teach thebirds that would come back in the spring. Bird Fairies cannot sing anote themselves, nor carry an air, but they make up fine songs for thespring birds, who while they can sing with beautiful voices really havebut few ideas. 

They are fluffy, cuddly, swift little creatures, tiny and quiet. Onemight think them of little account just at first, but not for long. Forthey are the farthest-traveled of all the Forest People, except the WindCreatures only. Now they were fluttering in, and off came their whitecloaks and forth they hopped in bright colors, little feet twinkling andpattering, little wings lifting and wavering. They gathered around theTree Man, nestling in a row on his shoulder, running up and down hisarms, giving all of the news of their long journey into his ear. Hechuckled and chuckled and soon sat down by the table again, nodding hishead with delight at the tales they were telling him. 

Meanwhile, another group entered, --the Forest Children. The ForestChildren are little girls and boys who live all by themselves in mosshouses deep in the thickest of the forest, and know nothing of mothers, nurses or schools. They came tumbling, cheering, and skipping in, curlsbobbing, eyes shining. When their white cloaks were taken off with thehelp of the Tree Girl and Ivra, it was plain to see that they had nomothers. Their frocks were torn and stained, and half theirsandal-strings untied and flapping. The Tree Girl sighed as she pattedthe bobbing curls into some order, tied the laces and straightened abuckle here and there. 

Now the room was musical with sound. 

The last guest arrived, Wild Star, who had run away from Eric in theforest. He was a Wind Creature. Wind Creatures are growing-up girls andboys who live near the edge of the forest. Like all fairies, they canonly be seen by Earth People on a day that is clearer than a day shouldbe, or by people like Eric who have no shadows in their eyes. 

Wild Star dropped his bright white cloak as he entered. His wings werepurple, the color of early morning, high and pointed. But they clappedthemselves neatly down his back to avoid the ceiling. He was a beautifulboy, wild and starry, and that is how he got his name. Wind Creaturesare strong and swift, a little too wide-awake and far-traveled to bevery intimate with the Forest People. But Wild Star, though he was asswift and strong as any, often came to the Tree Man's, and often playedwith the Forest Children in their moss village for days together. Heloved the Tree Man, and now he sat down cross legged by him, and laidhis bright cheeck against his knee. 

So the party began. 

CHAPTER VII

TREE MOTHER AND THE DROWSY BOAT

"Let's play hide-and-go-seek, " cried the Forest Children, for that isalways their favorite game. 

Up jumped Wild Star, down fluttered the Bird Fairies, in crowded theForest Children, and the Tree Man counted out for them. He pointed hisfinger at each in turn while he said this verse, which he made up on thespot:

 "Sticks are racing in the flood-- Trees are racing in the wood-- In the tree-tops winds are racing-- In the sky-tops clouds are chasing. In the tree-heart snug and warm, We hear nothing of the storm. 

 When we play at hide-and-seek, It is _you_ must count the sheep. "

At "you" the finger pointed at Eric, and it meant that he was to be"It. "

"Put your head here on my knee. Shut your eyes and count one hundredsheep jumping over a stone wall, not too fast, " explained the Tree Man. "While you're counting the others hide. Anywhere in this room, andanywhere on the stairs. Out-doors is no fair. "

"But _where_ are the sheep?" asked Eric, "and how can I count them withmy eyes shut?"

Every one suddenly looked puzzled. The Forest Children's eyes grew widewith wondering. The Bird Fairies fluttered uneasily. The Tree Girlseemed dazed. Wild Star said, "Why, we never thought of that, --where_are_ they?"

But Ivra laughed and ran to Eric. She took his hand and said, "The sheepare inside your own head. Just shut your eyes and try to see them. It isvery easy. The wall is low, and there's a place where the stones arebeginning to roll down. The sheep go over there, one by one. "

Eric shut his eyes and put his head down on the Tree Man's knee. And itbegan to happen just as Ivra had said. There was a green hill-pasture, alittle gray stone wall slanting across it, and sheep, one by one, jumping where the wall was broken down, following their leader. Hecounted one hundred of them and then stopped although a dear little lambwas trotting down the hill, trailing the procession. He wanted to see ifthe lamb would be able to jump the wall too. But the Tree Man had saidone hundred, so he stopped and opened his eyes. 

Things were strange. The Tree Man was nothing but an old stump. The roomfelt very cold and it was bare. The fire in the boulder had gone out. But he heard a soft fluttering somewhere and took heart. The BirdFairies! They might be hiding high, having wings. He went all around theroom, looking up into the dusk. At last, there they were in row on abeam, their wings spread over their eyes. 

"Bird Fairies, I spy!" cried Eric, and ran towards the stump. But wingsare swifter than feet, and the Bird Fairies reached the goal first. 

He found Ivra at the top of the second flight of stairs, curled up in ashadow. 

"I spy!" and he ran just as fast as he could down the stairs. He wasahead of her to the door, and thought he would surely win. But shepassed him in the room and touched the stump first. 

The Tree Girl, of all places, was kneeling behind the stump. Of courseshe touched it the minute Eric spied her, and so she was safe. 

The Forest Children were hiding, some in the hall behind the door, someon the stairs, one under the table. And everyone of them beat him to thegoal and touched it first. 

"Now there's only Wild Star, " Ivra cried. "You must catch him, Eric, orelse you'll have to be 'It' again!"

Wild Star was outside, up in the top of the tree in the starlight. Ericdiscovered him by seeing one of the tips of his purple wings which wascaught in a crack of the sky door. "I spy!" he called, and pulled thewing-tip to let Wild Star know he was found. 

But of course Wild Star passed him like a flash, his strong wingsbeating down. 

Tears of vexation welled in Eric's eyes. One thing he had gained though. Because he had found them all, even though he could not run so fast asthey, the Tree Man had come back, and sat there in the place of thestump, and all was warm and bright again. The Tree Man had only wantedto prove for himself that Eric could see Wild Star, the Bird Fairies, and the others without Ivra to point them out to him. But he feltsatisfied now that Eric's eyes were really clear, and that he wouldnever hurt any of them by looking through them or pretending that theydid not exist. 

"Wild Star is It now, " he said. "For he didn't play fair, going outsidelike that. "

"Oh, I forgot outside was no fair, " cried Wild Star, laughing. 

So this time Eric hid with the others, while Wild Star counted sheep. 

He ran wildly all round the room trying to find a hiding-place. Buteverywhere there was someone ahead of him. At last he came back to theTree Man himself with Wild Star counting sheep at his knee. 

"Ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven, " counted Wild Star. "Oh dear! Ohdear!" Eric whispered to himself in despair. 

Ivra was hiding behind the Tree Man, and so she jumped out and pulledEric back to hide with her. 

"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!"

Wild Star started up, and never thinking to look behind the Tree Manwent circling the room in swift flight. He saw Ivra and Eric as he flewover their heads, of course, and they laughed and touched the Tree Manfirst. 

But he caught most of the others, even the Forest Children who are soswift and clever. 

After that, almost everyone had to take his turn at being It. 

When the merry game came to an end at last, they gathered around theboulder fireplace. The twigs were glowing embers now and looked likemyriads of golden flower-buds. Then the Forest Children began clamoringfor a World Story. So Ivra climbed up on the Tree Man's knee and tippingher head back against his chest, looked into the fire and told one ofHelma's World Stories. It was the story of a glacier. That may not soundlike a very interesting story to you, but if you could hear Ivra tell itin all its wonder just as Helma had told it to her, you would never askfor a better story. No, you would ask for that one over and over again, as the Forest Children did the minute she was through. 

But instead of telling that one over, Ivra told another, a little storyabout some eggs and a brood of chickens. And they wanted _that_ over. But there must be an end to everything, and so the Tree Girl brought outa bowl of beechnuts, and they forgot the stories, and ate as much asthey wanted. There were apples, too, big and red and cold cheeked. Everyone was hungry. 

When all were satisfied, there was sudden whispering among the guests. The Bird Fairies fluttered and hummed with excitement. The ForestChildren's eyes began to shine expectantly. Ivra, who still sat on theTree Man's knee, spoke what they were all thinking. "The surprise, " shesaid to the Tree Man. "You know you promised us a surprise to-night. Isit time for it yet?"

"Yes, " said the Tree Man. "It is. _High_ time! Come, put on your cloaks. It's a cold night. "

"But the surprise!" they all cried at once. "We don't want to go homeuntil we have had the surprise!"

"Oh, the surprise is up in the branches. My mother is there with herair-boat, waiting to take you all home. "

The Forest Children clapped their hands and jumped up and down untiltheir sandal-laces that were not already loose and flapping came undoneand flapped too. Wild Star sprang towards the stairs, his face alight, Ivra slipped down from the Tree Man's knee and ran to Eric. 

"The Tree Mother! The dear, beautiful Tree Mother! We are to see her andride with her!" she cried. 

Then she dashed away for her cloak. The Forest Children, with the TreeGirl's help, were tumbling into theirs, wrong-end-to mostly, ripping offbuckles in their hurry. 

"The Tree Mother! The dear Tree Mother!" their little teeth chattered inecstasy. 

When all were ready they crowded up the straight starlit stairs. At thetop they crawled out through the sky door, one by one, into thebranches. Eric followed Ivra, and saw a great black moth-like thingpoised in air by the tree's top. But it was hollowed like a boat and ashadowy woman was standing upright in it. A dark cloak covered her, butthe hood had fallen back, and her face in the starlight was verybeautiful and very young, younger even than Helma's, whose face Eric hadthought all that day too young and glad to be a mother's. How could thisbe the Tree Man's mother, he wondered, --the Tree Girl's grandmother!Then he saw that her hair was white, whiter than all the snow that layin the forest. 

It was very cold kneeling there and clinging in the tip of the greatbeech-tree. The forest below was still and dark. But the air and thewintry star-filled sky were bright with a blue, cold light. After thewarmth at the heart of the tree, the cold was almost unbearable. Ericlonged to wave his arms about, and jump up and down to get warm, but hehad to cling, still and motionless, to the branches to keep fromfalling. 

At last Ivra whispered "It's our turn now, " and taking Eric's hand, shemade him jump with her right out into cold space. For one awful instanthe thought they were both falling down, down to the ground. But they hadonly dropped into the air-boat. The Tree Mother leaned forward andpulled a blanket over them. Her eyes as she did it, looked straight intoEric's. They were dark, and deep as the forest shadows. He began tospeak to tell her who he was, for her look was questioning. But she puther finger to her lips. Then he noticed for the first time that everyone was silent. Even the Tree Man and his daughter who stood in the treetop waving good-by spoke no words, only nodded and waved. The last BirdFairy fluttered noiselessly in. Eric lay back under the warm blanket, snuggled against Ivra. A Bird Fairy nestled into the palm of each of hishands. All was still and warm. The air-boat slipped away high and higherover the tree-tops and on and on. 

On a cold, starlit night, nestled in feathery warmth, to sail over thedark tree-tops, high and higher and on and on--that is a wonderfulthing. And when the Tree Mother stands above you, wrapped in her darkcloak with her face shining under her cloudy white hair, now and thenbending to tuck the blanket more snugly about you--what could be moreblissful?

Very soon Eric became drowsy against his will. His eyelids dropped likecurtains shutting out the stars. But he roused when the boat stopped, hovered, and sank down like a bird until it rested on the crusted snowin the middle of a tiny village of tiny moss houses; only now, ofcourse, the houses were covered with snow, and looked like baby Eskimohuts. The Forest Children crept sleepily out of the boat, kissing theTree Mother good-by as though in a dream. Not a word was spoken. Therewas the creak of their little feet on the cold snow, --that was all. Eachchild went alone into his little house. They were lighted and lookedwarm through the doors, and Tree Mother nodded as though that were well. But before the air-boat had risen out of sight, the lights were all out, and the Forest Children sound asleep, snuggled into their moss beds. 

From then on stops were frequent, and Eric woke at each one. At everyBird Fairy nest at which they stopped, the Tree Mother leaned from theboat and scooped the crusted snow out of the nest. Then when the BirdFairy was settled down, she powdered the snow with her fingers until itwas soft, and heaped it over the little creature, who was alreadyasleep. 

Wild Star was left in the tip of the tallest tree in the forest. Therehe lay without covering, his face up to the cold sky, his arms flungback above his head, his wings folded tight. He half opened hisslumbrous eyes on the Tree Mother as the boat floated away, but beforethe smile in them faded he was asleep. 

There was straight, sure, even flying then to Helma's little house, setin its snowy garden, --and down they sank to the door stone. The TreeMother carried Ivra, who was fast asleep, in in her arms. The fire leaptwhen they entered, until the walls and floor danced with light. The TreeMother undressed Ivra, who never once opened her eyes, and tucked herinto bed. Then she helped Eric, who was fumbling and missing buttons ina sleepy way. But he was awake enough to kiss her good-night. And thatwas the end of everything until morning. 

CHAPTER VIII

A WITCH AT THE WINDOW

When the children woke the next morning, there was no Helma. Her bed hadnot been slept in. They had been too sleepy the night before to wonderat her absence, but now they could hardly believe their eyes. The roomwas strange and lonely without her. The fire had died in the night. Theysat up in their beds and talked about it. 

"She always comes back before bedtime, " said Ivra. "She has never stayedaway before. "

Eric said, "Perhaps that is why the Tree Mother brought you in andundressed you--perhaps she knew our mother had not come back. She lookedwise, as though she knew everything. "

"She does know everything, --at least everything in the forest. But didshe bring me in, right here in her arms, Eric!"

"And undressed you while you were sound asleep. "

Ivra laughed with delight, and clasped her hands. "Truly, truly? Thedear Tree Mother undressed me? Are you sure? Did she kiss megood-night?--" But suddenly she grew solemn. "Yes, she knew that motherwas not here. She only takes care of those who have no one else. Well, we will have to wait for mother, that is all. She will surely come thismorning. "

But she did not come that morning, nor that day, nor for many days. Youshall hear it all. 

The children laid the fire, together, --shivering but hopeful. Ivra gotthe breakfast, teaching Eric, so that next time he could help. Theychattered and played a good deal, and really had quite a merry time overit. It was only at first that Ivra was solemn over Helma'sdisappearance. Soon her good sense told her that Helma loved them both, and nothing could keep her long from her children. 

After breakfast they washed and put away the dishes. Then they tidiedthe room. They hurried over it a little, perhaps, for it was a brightwinter day, and all the forest was waiting to be played in. Before theyran out, they put a log on the fire that it took both of them to lift. If Helma should come back while they were away, she must find a warmhouse. Ivra skipped back after they were outside to set out a bowl andspoon for her, and stand the cream jug beside them. 

Then away they fled, running and jumping in the frosty morning air. Ivrataught Eric some games that could be played by two alone. They wererunning games, climbing games, hiding games, jumping games. Ivra wasswift and strong and unafraid. Her cheeks reddened like apples in thecold. She was a fine playfellow. 

Not until they were hungry did they think of home. Then they ran, handin hand at last, jumping the garden hedge like deer, their heartsbeating with the expectation of running straight into Helma's arms. Butno Helma was there. Nora had come with the milk, left it, eaten the restof the porridge, and gone away again without waiting for a word with anyone. The children wished she had stayed. They needed some one to talkwith about their mother. Of course they knew she would come back, all inher good time. Ivra made Eric understand that. But the room seemed evenemptier without her than it had in the morning. They cheered each otheras best they could, drank a lot of the fresh milk and ate some nuts. They wanted to get away into the forest again and forget the emptyhouse, so they did not try to cook anything. 

They played hard all the afternoon. Towards twilight it grew warmer andbegan to snow, great wet flakes. They ran home, leaping the hedge again. The house was still empty. Helma was not there. 

They stirred up the fire, and sat down on the floor in front of it totalk over what they should do. Then it happened, --the strange, thebeautiful, the frightful thing! Eric saw a face at the window. It was soperfectly beautiful, that face, that he wanted to shut his eyes againstit. It almost hurt. It was the face of a young woman, very pale, butwhen her eyes met Eric's they filled with dancing laughter. Her hairunder her peaked, white hood glistened blue-black like a river in thesnow. She lifted a small white hand and tapped on the window pane, nodding to him merrily. 

Ivra turned at the sound of the little fingers on the glass. When shesaw the face, she started to her feet with a frightened cry, and rushingto the door, drew the bolt. 

"She can't get in. She can't get in, Eric. Don't be afraid. We aresafe. " But the poor little girl did not believe her own words. She wastrembling. 

"Why, I'm not afraid, " said Eric, running to the window. The merry eyesdrew him. Now her mouth danced into smiles with her eyes. She madepretty signs to him to open the window and let her in. 

But Ivra pulled him back. "Don't you know? It's the Beautiful WickedWitch!" she whispered. 

But Eric was impatient. "How can she be wicked when she's so beautiful!"he exclaimed. He was so little used to beautiful people in his life thatnow he was fascinated and delighted. 

The Beautiful Wicked Witch looked at Ivra then, and Ivra saw how hereyes were dancing, great black eyes full of splendor and fun. She caughther breath. She laughed back at the Beautiful Wicked Witch. She couldnot help herself. But her hands flew to her mouth to stop the laugh. 

"Shut your eyes, Eric. That must be best, not to look at her at all. That is what mother did when she came before. She bolted the door andthen we sat down in front of the fire and never looked at the windowonce, while she told me a long, lovely World Story about Psyche and herlittle playmate Eros. Then when we had forgotten all about the BeautifulWicked Witch, we looked at the window by accident and she was gone. Come, I'll tell you a World Story now, the same one. "

But Eric hardly heard what she was saying. He moved nearer and nearer tothe window. Ivra followed him, charmed by the laughing face there too. Then together they unbolted the windowpane and opened it outward. TheBeautiful Wicked Witch stepped in. 

"How silly to be afraid of me, children, " she laughed. "I have only cometo play with you. "

"Oh goody!" cried both of the children together. For now that she was inthe room all their fear and wonder had vanished. 

It was dusk, and so they lighted all the candles and poked the fire, before they turned to entertain their guest. But the candles did notburn very well, very faintly and flickeringly, --and the fire fell lowerand lower, instead of growing higher and higher as they nursed it. 

"Don't mind about that, " laughed the Beautiful Wicked Witch. "There'senough light from the window for us to play together in. We won't botherwith the stubborn old fire and the silly little copy-cat candles. Come, what shall we play?"

But the children had been playing hard all day, and their bodies weretired. "Oh, tell us a story instead of playing, " begged Ivra. "This isthe time when mother tells her very best stories. "

"Well, I am not mother, " said the Beautiful Wicked Witch; "but I willtell you the best stories I can. Come sit near the window where thelight is stronger. That fire will never burn while I am here. I ambrighter than it, and the old thing is jealous. "

The children laughed at her joke. But it was true, --she was very bright. Her eyes seemed to light the room, or perhaps it was her gown, like anopal fire, blue and pink and purple, changing and glowing, and made ofthe softest silk. 

Ivra nestled close to her knee where she could stroke the gleaming silk. Eric sprawled on the floor at her feet, his face upturned to hers. 

Then she told them a story. It was not like any of Helma's WorldStories, but the children liked it. It was all about a gorgeous bird shehad at home in her tree-house. She told how she had heard it singing onemorning in early spring, high up in the branches of her tree, and howshe had watched it day after day flying back and forth in the forest, its yellow breast flashing among the green leaves. It had a long goldenbill, and its tail was black as jet; and its wings were the softest grayin the world with a feather of jet in either one. Its song was theclearest, the highest, the purest of all the bird songs in the forest. It was a wonderful bird, and she wanted it for her own. 

Then she told the children how she had set traps for it, and how it hadescaped every time. But at last she had made a dear little cage, allwoven of spring flowers and leaves, and put food in it. Still the birdescaped, pulling the food out with its long bill and never gettinginside the door. And finally she told them how she did capture thatwild, shy bird by learning its song and singing it sitting in hertree-house with the window open, until the bird heard and came flying inwonder to find what other bird was calling it. Then she had closed thewindow and the bird was hers. It hung now in the pretty cage in herprettiest room, and sometimes sang in the middle of the night. 

Eric liked the story, and all the better because it was a true story. And the Beautiful Wicked Witch said he could see the bird himself if hewould come to her house. He could stroke its bright breast, and it wouldsing perhaps. Then there were other things caged in her house, cunninglittle animals, and some big ones, worth any boy's seeing. 

But Ivra answered for Eric, shaking her head hard. "No, no. Motherdoesn't want us to visit you. "

But Eric said, "May I open the cage door and the window and see the birdflash away? I should like that. "

"No. Well, perhaps, " said the Beautiful Wicked Witch. "Will you comethen?"

"I can't, I suppose, if Mother Helma doesn't want me to. Are you sureshe doesn't, Ivra?"

Ivra was sure. 

The Beautiful Wicked Witch laughed then. "Of course, if you _tell_ hershe won't let you come. But if you came without telling, how could shemind?"

"That sounds true, --but someway it can't be, " said Ivra. And that seemedto end it. 

But after a little the Beautiful Wicked Witch began another story. Thisone was about a frock she had made, a wonderful thing all of cobwebs andviolet petals, with tiniest rosebuds around the neck. If Ivra were toslip that frock over her head, and unbraid her funny little pigtails, she would look as pretty as any fairy in the world. 

Ivra was not too young to want to be pretty. If she would only go to theBeautiful Wicked Witch's house, she could try on that dress, and wear itfor one whole day if she liked. Ivra clasped her hands. But then shethought, and asked a question. "Could I play in it, and run and climb?Would I be as free as in this little old brown smock?"

The Beautiful Wicked Witch raised her hands in horror. "My cobweb frock!Why, it would be ruined! It would be in shreds! How can you even thinkof treating it so!"

So Ivra shook her head until her funny little pigtails flopped from sideto side. "I don't want to wear it then for even a minute. What fun wouldthere be?"

"Well, think about it anyway, " said the Beautiful Wicked Witch, and roseto go away. "It's the fir, you know, beyond the white birch. "

"Thank you for the stories, " said the children. 

"Good-by, " said the Beautiful Wicked Witch. "Perhaps Eric will rememberand come. It's a gorgeous bird, and I haven't said he couldn't free it. "

Then she slipped out into the snow flakes, turning to give them onedancing look over her shoulder before the door swung to. 

Up flamed the candles, clear high flames when she was gone, and the firecrackled again, and took on new life, reaching higher and higher. 

They got their supper together rather silently. But just before going tosleep Ivra roused herself to say, "Let's promise each other we won't goto the Beautiful Wicked Witch's fir until mother comes home, --and we cantell her how jolly the Witch is, and what good stories she told us. "

"I don't want to go anyway, " answered Eric, "unless I can free thebird. "--But you see, he had not promised. 

After a while, "Did you notice how pale her face was when she wasn'tlaughing?" asked Eric. 

"Yes, and not so beautiful then. Mother may come in the night, and wenever know it till morning!"

Soon they were asleep, a tired, but happy little girl and boy. 

I think the Tree Mother sank down in her air-boat to look in at them andopen the door wide, which they had forgotten, so they would have freshair all night; but it was dark, and the room was shadowy, so perhaps itwas only the wind. 

CHAPTER IX

THE WIND HUNT

After all, Mother Helma was not there the next morning, --nor the next, nor the next. She did not come back for days and days and days. Muchhappened before she returned, and much happened after. I will tell you. 

During the days the children roamed the forest looking for their mother. They asked every one they could find whether he had seen her. The TreeMan, his daughter, the Bird Fairies, and the Forest Children, not one ofthem had seen or heard of her since she went away. But they all saidwith one accord that she would surely come back in her own time. It wasnot wise to go seeking her so. She loved them. She would return. 

"Wait and be patient, " they said. "Time will bring Helma. "

But they were Forest People, who live long, long lives, and see far. Eric was an Earth Child, and Ivra was not all a Forest Child. So theyfound it hard to be wise and wait and do nothing but trust Helma andknow she would return. 

So they went wandering all the day. They did not go home for meals, even, after a while, but ate with the Tree Man and his daughter or theForest Children. Sometimes as they walked through the forest, lookingall about, even up into the trees for their mother, they would suddenlyburst into play. "Tag, " Ivra would cry, tapping Eric on the shoulder, and away she would fly, he after her, in a race that grew merrier andmerrier as it ran on. Ivra darted and twisted away when Eric thought hehad her, rolling down little hills on the snow crust, climbing trees, jumping brooks until he was lucky enough to catch her by one of herpigtails at last, or snatch her flying skirt. "Tag!" Then away he sped, and the game would go on for a happy while. 

But sooner or later they always stopped running, stopped laughing, andremembered why they were wandering the wood alone. Then they would callfor Helma. Ivra's voice was shrill and sweet, and rang through the barewoods like a birdsong. Eric's wavered a little uncertainly, as though hedoubted whether Helma knew it well enough to answer. "Helma, Helma, Helma! Ohh Helma! Helmaa-a!"

No Helma answered. Sometimes a Forest Child came running to say, "Wehaven't seen her yet, Ivra. But we are watching. " The Bird Fairiesfluttered at the call and nodded their little heads uneasily. Children'svoices calling for their mother was a sad sound, and made the kindlylittle creatures restless. One or two of them would fly to nestle inIvra's neck and whisper, "Give her time. Do not hurry her so. She willcome back. "

But the children were losing faith. They went calling, seeking andplaying through the woods all the hours of daylight. At night Ivra toldEric World Stories, World Story after World Story until sleep made themforget. 

The fifth morning of their search dawned blue and clear and windy. 

"The Wind Creatures will be happy to-day, " said Ivra when she opened hereyes and heard the wind pushing at all the windows of the house and sawthe blue morning sky. "Wild Star will be circling the world. "

"Why, then he will see Helma somewhere!" cried Eric. 

Ivra sprang from her bed. "Eric, how splendid! We must go with him! Whydidn't I think of it at the very first!"

They did not stop for breakfast, but were into their coats and ready forthe day's search in a twinkling. Neither of them had bothered to undressthe night before. Ivra's hair had gone unbrushed for two days. Thingslike that are apt to slip when one's mother is away. So her littlepigtails were no longer smooth and glossy, but frowsy and loose, and therest of her hair was ruffled until it looked something like the BirdFairies' soft plumage. Eric's head, too, was shaggier than ever, and asmudge from firebuilding had darkened one of his cheeks since themorning before. They had not bathed in the "bird bath" since Helma hadgone away. They never seemed to have time, or else they were too sleepy. 

Now they no more thought of baths than they thought of breakfast. Ericfollowed Ivra, who knew all the ways in the forest, to the spot whereWild Star was most likely to be, if he was to be found at all on such awindy, perfect day. They ran earnestly, never slackening to skip orplay. And soon they came in sight of some giant cedar trees near theedge of the forest. There were several Wind Creatures standing there, laughing in shrill, glad voices, pointing with their arms, and flappingtheir purple wings. Wind Creatures are growing-up boys and girls withfairy-hearts and strong, never-tiring purple wings, remember. Wild Starwas among them. 

But before the children had come up to them, the Wind Creatures suddenlyjoined hands, --as they do just before flying, --and started running downthe sloping hill that ended the forest. 

For a minute Ivra was in despair. "Now they are gone for the day tocircle the world, and I shall never find mother, " she thought. But shedid not waste any more breath running. She stopped short and lifted hervoice, clear and insistent, "Wild Star! Wild Star! I need you! Don't runaway. Wild Star!"

The Wind Creatures had reached the foot of the hill, running swiftlyhand in hand, and their wings were already lifted for flying. But WildStar, at the sound of Ivra's voice, leaned back suddenly on the hands hewas holding, almost throwing his comrades on their faces, and breakingthe line. He turned right about, swinging the others with him, and cameleaping and running back. 

"What is the matter, little comrade?" he asked. "What is the matter?"

"In all your flying 'round the world, Wild Star, you must have seen mymother Helma. She is lost. Oh, can't you tell us where she is?"

"Yes, of course. But I didn't know she was lost. I thought she wasvisiting Earth-friends. "

"Truly, truly?" Ivra's eyes shone with joy, and Eric grabbed his capfrom his head and threw it up in the air shouting, "Hurrah!"

"Oh, will you bring her to us right away?" Ivra begged. 

Wild Star looked doubtful. "Perhaps she wouldn't want to come. "

Ivra laughed merrily at that. "Then take us to her, " she said, "and youwill see how she wants to come when we ask her. "

"Give us your hands, then!"

They held out their hands. Ivra's was grasped by Wild Star's and Eric'sby another Wind Creature. With their free hands they clasped eachother's. So the four started running down the hill, while the rest ofthe Wind Creatures flew off over their heads. 

Wild Star and his comrade ran faster and faster, until Eric wondered howit was that he and Ivra were ever keeping up with them. Soon he realizedthat his feet were scarcely touching the ground. At the foot of the hillstood a little group of birches, and they were running right upon it. Hedid not see how they could either turn out or stop themselves at thatspeed. Almost as soon as he had seen the birches, though, they werebeyond them. They had not turned out, they had jumped right over thebirches, and they were much higher than Eric's head! They were runningso swiftly now that only their toes ever touched the ground, --if _they_did. 

What fun it was to run like that, the wind at their backs, and the WindCreatures drawing them strongly forward faster and faster and fasteruntil they were really flying just above the snow. 

Across white fields they skimmed, --over fences and frozen streams, bushes and banks, through orchards and meadows, on, on, on, until theycame to the town. 

There Ivra pulled back for a minute, and the Wind Creatures slowed down. Eric knew why Ivra was afraid of the town. She had told him all about itwhile they played in the wood. Helma, her mother, was a human, but shehated the town and loved the fairies and their ways. That was why shehad run away to live by herself in the wood. But Ivra was neither fairynor human; she was both. 

Now the fairies are afraid of humans because humans look right throughthem and do not see them. That upsets the fairies and makes themuncomfortable. Of course Helma and Eric were exceptions, for becausethey had no shadows in their eyes they could see them and play withthem. So the fairies accepted those two as one of themselves. Ivra wasdifferent. Because she was only half fairy, any human could see herwhether his eyes were shadowed or not if he would only look hard enough. The dreadful part was that when a human did see her, he was likely notto believe in her. He would just think he was day-dreaming, and that thelittle girl with the soft eyes, the ash-colored pigtails, and the quickfeet was just a piece of his day-dream. Not to be seen is bad enough. But it is much worse to be seen and not believed in. That was why Ivrawas afraid of the town. People saw her there and either rubbed theireyes and looked another way, or laughed. 

But now she was going for her mother, and she could bear anything, eventhat. She did not hold back long. They ran past the canning factory, andEric did not give a glance to it. A little girl looking out over a pileof cans saw him, however, and wondered at his warm suit of brown cloth, his leggins, sandals and the cap with wings. She remembered him in rags. She saw Ivra too, and did not rub her eyes and think her a dream. Butshe did not call to any one in the factory or point, for she knew _they_would think it a dream. 

Through the crooked narrow streets, past the crooked narrow houses, --oneof them Mrs. Freg's, --they sped faster than the wind! On, on, on, --upthe wide avenue through the "residential section" where big houses eyedthem from proud terraces, --out into the country again they raced. 

There they came to a high gray stone wall, blocking their way, and stoodstill. 

"You must climb, " said Wild Star. "She is in there. "

CHAPTER X

ON THE GRAY WALL

It was a very high wall that hid their mother, and at first glance itseemed impossible that they could ever climb it. But Ivra did not stopto wonder. She ran up and down, hunting for a foothold. At last shereached the end of the wall and disappeared around the corner. Eric andthe Wind Creatures followed. When they came up to her she had alreadyfound a place where the stones were laid a bit unevenly, one on theother, and was half way to the top, clinging with toes and fingers. 

"Bravo!" cried the Wind Creatures. Eric went up after her, oftenslipping back and bruising and scratching his hands and knees, but asresolute as his playmate. At last they gained the top. The WindCreatures had flown up and were waiting for them there, sittingcross-legged with their purple wings folded down their backs. 

The wall enclosed the garden of a very rich family. It was a formalgarden with straight walks, trellises, fountains, benches and neatflower beds laid out in squares and circles, now piled high withblossoming snow. 

Just as the children reached the top of the wall, the door into thegarden from the stern gray mansion behind it opened and through it camethree people. First was a very tall lady all wrapped up in furs, --tailsand heads of the poor animals that had been slain to make them hangingfrom her shoulders and down her back. Even the children could see thather face was sour in spite of all its smiling. Then came a young man ina stiff, funny hat, carrying a cane, beating up the snow flowers with itas he passed the flower beds. And behind them walked--Helma, with hergaze on the ground. That is why they did not know her at first, that andher very strange clothes. She was dressed all in velvet and fur, and herarms up to her elbows were hidden in a huge white muff. She swayed asshe walked on weird little high heels and the toes of her boots drew outto long points, almost like a goblin's. Her hat was a velvet affair, soawkward and heavy it seemed to weigh down her head, and her candleflamehair was smothered under it. Is it any wonder that they did not know herlike that!

But when she walked close under the wall and they heard her voice theyknew her, and the Wind Creatures had to hold Ivra from jumping down andthrowing herself into her arms. "Wait, " they whispered. 

From their high place on the wall they could look down on the heads ofthe three people, and hear all they were saying. They had never learnedthat it is not fair to listen that way. 

From all Helma said they could plainly see she was a prisoner. She waspleading with the old woman. She was saying, "No, never, never, never, in a thousand days and years will I ever be happy here. My place is inthe forest. Oh, how these heels bother!"

"Silly girl!" cried the old woman, smiling more than ever, and lookingmore disagreeable than ever at the same time. "Your place is where youwere born-in a fine house and wearing clothes like other people. Heelsindeed! Did you expect them to do any thing else but bother? Mine havebothered for sixty years, but you haven't heard _me_ complain. "

"Neither would I, " Helma said, "if I didn't know about other kinds ofshoes that don't hurt. Those sandals I wore when you caught me didn'thurt. Why can't I wear those, at least when I walk in the garden?"

"Well, you might, " began the old woman, a little more kindly, andsmiling less, "if you promise always to put on the high heels beforecoming into the drawing room--"

"No, " said the young man sharply. "Let her once into the garden in hersandals and she'll climb the wall and be off. I say that we give her nochance to escape. After she has been to a hundred or so balls and wornthese beautiful and appropriate clothes long enough she'll be glad ofher luck, and nothing could drag her into the forest. Believe me!"

Now Helma stopped pleading, and laughed at the young man. "Do you thinkhigh heels, or even a hat that weighs down my head like this horrid onecan keep me much longer from my little daughter, and that dear newlittle boy? What they are doing without me all this time--I wonder!" Shestopped laughing to sigh. 

The old woman took her hand not unkindly. "My poor, dear girl, " shesaid, "how many times must I tell you it is only a dream, that house inthe woods and the little girl and boy? They aren't really there at all, you know. You have dreamed them. Come, cheer up. Be a brave girl. Wehave parties and good times enough here, if you will only get into thespirit of them, to make up for all your forest foolishness. "

Helma answered in a low even voice, that showed well enough how sure shewas of the truth of what she was saying--"No, they are realer than you. Ivra is realer than all the people in that mansion put together, cousins, uncles, aunts, guests, servants and all. She is my little fairydaughter. "

"No, " said the young man. 

The wings of the Wind Creatures on the top of the wall rustled just thenin a gust of cold north wind. Helma threw up her head as at a familiarsound, and her eyes slowly lifted to the faces of the children lookingdown. For a minute she looked steadily at them without believing, andthen it was as though her pale face suddenly burst into song. But theold woman and the young man were not looking at her and so they noticednothing. The young man said, "The neighbors have talked about us enoughalready for all your queer ideas and doings. So you'll wear no sandals, no, nor sleep with your skylight open, as you're always asking, nor goone step outside the wall until you have come to your senses and aremore like other people. So there!"

But Helma laughed, her head thrown back, so that the children could lookinto her happy eyes and see the glow of her short hair under hergrotesque hat. 

"Keep your keys, cousin, " she said, "and your old skylight keep shuttight as tight. I shall find a way out. But my children must be patient, and Ivra must teach Eric to keep his face and body clean. They must notforget meal-times, and when anything goes wrong, or they think it isgoing wrong, they must ask the Tree Man's advice. I will find a way tothem soon. They must keep happy and wait. "

She said all that slowly and distinctly, her eyes smiling into theirs. 

"What silly talk, " laughed the sour old lady. "Just as though you weremaking a speech. Well, it must be luncheon time now, and high time wewere changing our frocks. Wear your gray velvet, Helma, and don't forgetto put on stockings to match. There's to be strawberry ice to-day, --andgoose to begin with of course. Cook says she has never seen atenderer--"

The old lady went on talking about the wonderful luncheon they were tohave until they were out of hearing. But the children on the gray wallcould see that Helma was going in differently from the way she had comeout. Her head was high, and she stepped out in her funny high heeledboots as though she were walking in sandals. At the little door into themansion she turned and waved her queer great muff to the children andthe Wind Creatures, and they heard her laugh. 

But when she was gone, and the door was shut and locked--they heard thegreat key scrape--Eric turned joyfully to Ivra. She was staring intentlyat the closed door, her face very pale. Suddenly she buried her head inher arms and burst into sobs, hoarse, jerky sobs, the first and the lasttime Eric was ever to hear her cry. Eric and the Wind Children satcross-legged and waited. Soon she stopped and wiped her face on hersleeve. 

"She is locked in, but she _will_ find a way home, " she said, almostlaughing. "How glad and how surprised she was to see us! It was almostas though she had begun to believe all their talk about dreams, untilshe heard the Wind Creatures' wings!"

The Wind Creatures took them back to the forest. Under the giant cedarsthey said good-by and left them. The children went straight to the TreeMan's to tell him the news. He gave them deep bowls of warm milk todrink, and took off their sandals so that their toes might spread andwarm in front of the fire. 

Then the Tree Girl begged for a story, and Ivra told a World Story aboutthe rivers, --how they go in search of their mother, the ocean, day andnight, around mountains and through mountains, and across wholecontinents, and never stop until they find her, --and of the myriadpresents they carry to her, --of the things they see and the things theydo, as they flow searching. 

It was a long story. And almost before the end the little story tellerhad fallen asleep with her head tipped back against the Tree Man'schest. 

They spent that night in the tree, and that was good, for a storm hadrisen outside, and it was bitter cold in the forest. 

CHAPTER XI

THE BEAUTIFUL WICKED WITCH

The next morning before Eric woke Ivra slipped away to play with theForest Children. 

"On such wild days as this they usually play indoors, for they're littlethings and the Snow Witches love to tease them, " said the Tree Man. 

"Perhaps she'll be telling them World Stories, " thought Eric, and so hedecided to go to the little moss village, too, for though Ivra had toldhim dozens of World Stories by now, he always wanted to hear more. Soafter breakfast with the Tree Man and his pretty, shy daughter, he ranout in search of Ivra. 

It was indeed a cold morning, blustering and raw. Eric felt chilledalmost as soon as he was out of doors. Very soon he lost his way, for hehad not been in the forest long enough to grow familiar with landmarks. Just when he was beginning to be a bit hopeless and pinched with thecold he came to the big fir where the Beautiful Wicked Witch lived. Itstood green and comforting among all the bare trees of winter. 

Eric stopped to look, for now he remembered the Beautiful Wicked Witchand the bird she had caged in there. He saw a door in the tree trunkajar, and swinging to and fro with tiny tinkling music. He peeped in, and between the swingings caught glimpses of little blue and yellowflowers arranged in tight bunches in hanging vases. He could smell theirsweetness even out there in the cold air. 

Then high up in the tree trunk a window opened, and he heard the birdsinging. The Beautiful Wicked Witch's face appeared at the window, looking down at him. Her black eyes were sparkling and she noddedgood-morning to him as though he were a prince, or at least a grown-up. He could not help nodding back. He liked her very much, she was sobeautiful and so friendly. 

"Come in and get warm, " she called, "and I'll show you my pretty bird. "

Eric remembered Ivra's warnings, but he wanted to go in so much that hefound himself doing it. The door tinkled louder music when he touchedit, and he pushed his way through, as a bee pushes his way into aflower. 

The Witch came running twinklingly down a spiral stairway. She kissedhis mouth, took off his winged cap and coat, threw them somewhere out ofsight, and then he had time to look at her well. 

Her gown was green satin, the color of the fir boughs, and her littlesandals were green satin, too. A green fir frond bound her forehead; andher black hair hung loose, soft and electric to her waist. Eric hadnever seen a prettier person in the world, nor one more kind. 

She took his two hands and began to whirl in a happy dance. Eric danced, too, for joy and good comradeship. Round and round the room they whirleduntil their breath was spent. 

Then the Beautiful Wicked Witch took him up the spiral staircase to showhim the bird. Up and up they went, until they came to a little room highin the tree. The floor was carpeted with yellow satin, and yellowcurtains hung at the window. Deep blue mirrors lined the walls, and theyreflected Eric and the Beautiful Wicked Witch dozens of times over. 

The pretty bird cage, all made of flowers and leaves, hung in the verymiddle of the room. Eric stood by it a long time. He put his fingersthrough the bars, and stroked the bird's soft feathers. But the gorgeousbird paid no attention to him, and did not sing. 

"Why doesn't it hop about?" he asked the Beautiful Wicked Witch. 

The Witch frowned and pouted. "It ought to, I'm sure. I like to see ithopping. But it would rather sulk. It thinks all the time about theforest, and its mate who is out there somewhere. Sometimes it sings, though. Its voice is wonderful. "

"Oh, let's open the cage and free him, " cried Eric. 

But the Beautiful Wicked Witch seized his hand. "No, no, _no_! It is_mine_. I have caged it in my pretty cage. And it fits into the room, don't you think?"

"I don't know what you mean, " said Eric. 

"Why, you fit into it, too, " said the Witch, looking hard at him. "Youryellow hair and blue eyes match the yellow and blue flowers. Would youlike me to make a pretty cage for you and put you into it?"

"No, no!" Eric was suddenly afraid of the Beautiful Wicked Witch. 

But she laughed at his fear, and danced a little dance, humming toherself, around the room. Then Eric noticed other cages. The walls werelined with them. Some hung from the ceiling, and some stood in corners. In every cage was a bird or animal. The one standing nearest to him helda pretty gray squirrel, running 'round and 'round on a wheel. He stoppedevery now and then to peer out through the bars with quick, bright eyes. In the cage next was a tiny brown field mouse. But he had given uprunning and playing long ago, and was huddled in the farthest anddarkest corner of his cage, his little beady eyes open and watchful. 

Eric walked around the room, looking at all the poor little animals andbirds. One and all peered through their bars with watchful and fearfuleyes. Eric remembered himself in the canning factory and pitied themmore than he could ever have done had he not once been a caged littlecreature too. How he longed to open their doors and the window, and seethem scamper and fly away!

But the Witch had stopped her dancing by the bird cage in the middle ofthe room, and her little hands were between the bars stroking the brightbird-breast. She was saying, "Sing for us, bird. Sing your nicest songfor us. Little Eric wants to hear it. "

The bird began to beat its wings and breast against the bars. Again andagain its bright breast struck the door. But it did not fly open. 

"It does not want to sing, " laughed the Beautiful Wicked Witch; "but itmust. Sing, bird, sing! It does you no good to struggle. You can't getaway. Sing, sing!"

Then the bird sang. Its song was truly wonderful, high and clear, asEric had heard it from outside. But now that he could see the bird cagedhe did not like the song so well. It was all too sad. 

Eric wanted to go away then, out of the tree, and never, never see theWitch again. He would find Ivra and the Forest Children and forget allabout these cages. So he said good-by to the Witch and ran down thespiral staircase. But he could not find the door out. He went round andround the wall, but there was no sign of a door. It was indeed as thougha flower had let him in and then closed its petals tight. 

The little posies swung in their cases, the bird sang up stairs, and theBeautiful Wicked Witch played and danced, and laughed at all hissearching. She would do nothing to help him find the door. 

All that day he wandered up stairs and down stairs, or stood at thewindow looking down through the green fir branches to the freeforest-floor. Once the Witch offered to tell him stories. But he wantedno stories of caged things, and those were all the stories she knew. TheWitch did not mind his short answers and dark face. She seemed perfectlyable to have a good time with herself, and needed no comrades. 

At last night fell. The rooms blossomed with candlelight. In the yellowroom up stairs the Beautiful Wicked Witch paraded back and forth beforethe mirrors, loving her own reflection, smiling at herself, courtesying, frowning, looking back over her shoulder, --lifting her hair to let itfall again in electric waves. Eric stood by the window, thoroughly wearyof his search and loneliness, and watched her. The bird sat in the cageand watched her. All the little bright eyes of animals watched her. Thecandles burned steadily. 

How Eric longed for Ivra now, and their own big friendly room. Heimagined Ivra in the room there all alone getting her supper over thefire, bathing in the fountain bath, opening the windows, and at lastfalling softly to sleep before the firelight faded. 

Oh, if there were only a window open here! How hot it was, and howover-sweetly scented! The Beautiful Wicked Witch went on posing andpreening before the mirrors, and seemed to have forgotten all about hernew little prisoner. 

So he pulled back the yellow satin curtain, and looked out. It wasclear, cold starlight. He pressed his face against the window pane andstared down into the shadows beneath the fir. And there, standing erectin the shadow, her face lifted like a pale little moon, stood Ivra. 

She saw him, but did not wave. She only nodded, as though she knew nowwhat she had come to make sure of. She stood still for a few minutes, until Eric almost thought she was frozen in the cold. But at last shemoved and disappeared under the fir. 

Music tinkled through the house. The Beautiful Wicked Witch poised onher toes, surprisedly looking into the reflection of her own eyes. 

"Some one has come in, for that was the door, " she said. "It opensinward with music. "

Eric's heart stood still. Had Ivra come into the Witch's house, Ivra whowas so afraid of the Witch? He ran down the stairs and the Witchfollowed him. Yes, Ivra stood there in the middle of the warm, flower-hung room, like a little cold star beam. 

But she did not look at the quaint flowers in their golden vases. Andwhen the Witch ran to her and kissed her she did not even look at her. She looked only at Eric, and her eyes said, "I have come to free you. "

"Oh, so you did want to try on the pretty frock after all, " cried theWitch, and drew her up the stairs. Eric followed to the yellow room. "No, " said Ivra. But the Witch brought it out and tried to slip it overher head. It was sheerest gossamer web, and shimmered like moonlight. And the little rosebuds seemed to make it belong to Ivra. 

Eric forgot all about being a prisoner, and forgot the little cagedcreatures around the wall. He was delighted with the frock being pusheddown on Ivra's shoulders. "How beautiful you'll be!" he cried. But Ivrawriggled away from it and stood clear. Her rudely made brown frock andworn sandals looked odd in that satin room. "I didn't come to see thefrock, " she said, shaking her head till her pigtails bobbed. "I came toget Eric. "

The Beautiful Wicked Witch laughed. "Get him if you can, " she said. Thenshe turned her back on the children and began to braid her black hairamong the mirrors. 

They went to the window and waited there, watching her. 

"The door doesn't open out, --only in, I think, " Eric whispered. "So wecan't get out. "

"Mother has told me how it would be, " Ivra whispered back. "We'll haveto wait until she's asleep and then find a way. "

Then Ivra sat down on the floor and began to rock back and forth andsing a lullaby. It was a lullaby her mother had sung to her all herbabyhood, Ivra sang in a very little voice, almost a murmur only, but bylistening Eric and the Beautiful Wicked Witch could catch the words. Shesang the same words over and over and over. 

 Night is in the forest, Tree Mother is nigh. By-abye, by-abye-bye. 

 Sleep is in the forest-- His feathers brush your eye. By-abye, by-abye-bye. 

 Mother's arms are holding you, Forest dreams are folding you. By-abye, by-abye--bye. 

The Beautiful Wicked Witch sat down before the mirrors after a while, still watching her reflection, but listening to the song, too. Her headgradually sank lower and lower, first resting chin in hand and at lastright down on her arm stretched along the floor. Her face lay turnedtowards the children, and they saw the mirth slowly fade in her greatblack eyes, the lids drop lower and lower, --and then she was asleepsuddenly. Now she looked almost as young as themselves, and like a palechild who has fallen to sleep at its play. 

But the children did not stop to look at her. Once they were sure shewas asleep they were off searching for the door. Up and down the stairsand all around the rooms they ran on tiptoes. But it was no use, and atlast they came back to the window. 

"We must jump, " whispered Ivra. 

Eric looked down, and wondered. It was a long way to the ground!

"The snow is soft beneath the crust, " Ivra said. "It will only cut us alittle. "

"Let's take the bird, " Eric said. Ivra ran to it, and opened the cagedoor. It hopped onto her finger eagerly, and she held its bill so thatit would not sing. 

Eric opened the window. "I'll jump first, " he whispered. 

But Ivra said, "Oh, let's hold hands and jump together. "

The Beautiful Wicked Witch felt the cold night air from the window onher face, and stirred in her sleep. Her eyelids quivered. So thechildren did not wait a minute more. They climbed up onto the windowsill, Ivra still holding the bird. "One, two, three, " she whispered, andthey jumped. 

Out and down they went like two shooting stars and plunked through thesnowcrust. They were up in a second. Their wrists and elbows were alittle bruised and cut, but they were not really hurt at all. Butstrange and strange, the bird had fluttered near Ivra's hand for thatsecond, and then flew straight back up and into the open window. It hadbeen caged so long it did not really want its freedom after all. Ericcried out with regret. 

But Ivra seized his hand, and they ran home together through the cold, starlit forest. Before they leapt the hedge into their own garden Ericsaw the firelight blossoming in the windows. But he stood still outsidethe door, after Ivra had gone in, for a time, breathing the cold air andthe clear silence right down into his toes. 

CHAPTER XII

IVRA'S BIRTHDAY

"To-morrow is the shortest day in the year, " Ivra told Eric one nightafter they were in bed. He did not answer, for he was very sleepy. Butafter a minute she spoke again. "It's my birthday too!"

Then he opened his eyes and sat up, for her voice sounded very queer andfar away. He saw that she too was sitting up, her hands folded under herchin. "Mother always had a party for me, " she said. "Such fun!"

"Perhaps one will happen to-morrow even with her away, " Eric comforted. "Oh, goody! I do hope so!"

"Perhaps. Anyway I'm going to pretend there's a party waiting for meto-morrow. You pretend too, Eric, and then even if it doesn't come truewe will have had the pretending at least. "

Eric agreed to pretend. It was one of his favorite games. And very soonthe two children nestled down under their covers and drifted into sleepand dreams of a party. 

They were roused early in the morning by something tapping lightly onthe doors and windows. Eric was out of bed first, and saw the WindCreatures, half a dozen or more of them, looking in and beckoning. Theirpurple wings gleamed gold in the early morning sun. Wild Star wasstanding in the open door. 

"Happy birthday!" he cried and tossed a snow ball into Ivra's bed. Shepopped to her knees, laughing and rosy with sleep. But then she wasgrave in a minute. "There's to be no party, Wild Star, " she said. "Mother's not back yet. Are you all here for that?"

"Yes, we're here for that, and there is to be a party, an all day onetoo. Your Forest Friends have seen to that. "

The children were radiant with joy. And Ivra whispered to Eric, "We hadour pretending, too!"

The Wind Creatures would not come in to breakfast, for of course they donot like in-doors at all, and besides, they need very little food. Sothey played in the garden while the children dressed and ate. Very soonthe children were done, though, and came leaping out ready for a day'sjoy. 

The Wind Creatures led them then out through the forest. The Tree Girlwas watching for them at her door. It was plain to be seen, when shejoined them, that she carried something in her arms very secretly underher white cloak. But no one mentioned it. Ivra knew it must be asurprise for her birthday. Where the party was to be no one told her, and she did not ask. She liked surprises. 

They came to the Forest Children's little moss village. The youngestForest Child of all was the only one up so early. He was busily breakingdead twigs from bushes to build his morning fire and making up a littlerhymeless song about Ivra's birthday as he worked. 

 This is her birthday, Spring's little daughter-- Spring's little daughter-- This is her birthday. 

 Wake now, wake now, All you Forest Children, Wake for her birthday And tie your sandals on. 

When he saw them he cried, "Hurrah! Happy birthday, Ivra!"

At his cry all the little windows in the little moss houses opened andthere were the tousled heads of the Forest Children, their eyes blinkingsleepily against the gilded morning light. 

"Thank you, thank you, " Ivra cried back to the youngest Forest Child. "Hurry and follow. "

Before they had gone on their way five minutes more the Forest Childrenwere up with them, tugging at buckles and sandal strings as they ran, begging not to be left behind. Soon they came to Big Pine Hill, a hilldeep in the forest with no trees but a giant pine at the top. The WindCreatures had built a slide there by brushing away the snow and leavinga broad track of shining blue ice. Up under the pine were sleds enoughfor every one, made all of woven hemlock branches. They needed norunners for the ice was so slippery and the hill so steep _anything_would go down it fast enough. Ivra's Forest Friends must have worked allthe day before to make those sleds--and now her shining face and claspedhands were reward enough. 

She was the first to try the hill. She threw herself on her sled anddown she flashed. At the bottom she tumbled off, and still on her kneesshouted up to Eric and the others at the top, "Oh, it's splendid! Comeon!"

Then the hill was covered with speeding sleds. The Bird Fairies had noneof their own, for they were so little they might have come to harm onthat hill. But they had just as good a time for all of that, catchingrides with the others, clinging to shoulders or heads or feet as ithappened. 

Every one was there, even the Snow Witches who had not been invited. They came whirling and dancing through the forest almost as soon as thesliding had begun. Ivra gave them glad welcome in spite of their roughways and stinging hair. For she, the only one of all who were there, liked them very well and had made them her comrades often and often onwindy winter days. And they, who cared for nobody, cared for her. "Sheis not like anybody, " they explained it to each other. "_She is a greatlittle girl_. "

But they would not take Ivra's sled as she wanted them to. They had notcome to spoil her fun. Instead they raced down the hill behind her orbefore her, pushing and pulling, their stinging hair in her face. Butthat only made her cheeks very red, and she did not mind them at all. Then she tried sliding down on her feet, with the long line of witchespushing from behind, their hands on each other's shoulders. That was thebest fun of all, and almost always ended in a tumble before the bottomwas reached. Though the others avoided the witches as much as they couldthey admired Ivra for such hardy comrading. 

Before noon every one was very hungry. Then the littlest Forest Childsaid, "Follow me. The Tree Girl has gone ahead. "

It was true, she had slipped away when no one noticed. 

The littlest Forest Child led them away to a little valley-place wherehemlock boughs had been spread to make a floor and raised on three sidesto make a shelter. When they had come close enough for Ivra to see whatit was perched so big and white in the middle of the hemlock floor shestopped and sighed with joy while she clasped her hands. 

It was a beautiful frosted birthday cake with nine brave candles of allcolors and burning steadily, just the kind of cake her mother had alwaysbaked for her birthdays. --Only last year there had been eight candles. She had not hoped for this final delight. She ran quickly forward andwas the first to kneel down by it. The Tree Girl was there waiting, andnow Ivra knew it was the cake that she had been carrying so secretlyunder her cloak. 

The Snow Witches did not follow into that shelter. They have a greatfear of shelters, you must know, for when forced into them they quicklylose their fierceness, and their fierceness is their greatest pride. Butbefore they left the party one of them came close to Eric, so close thattears were whipped into his eyes and quickly froze on his lashes. "Takethis to your little comrade, " shes said, thrusting a box made of pinecones into his hands. "It's for her to keep her paper dolls in. Wewitches made it. "

Then all the witches went screeching and swirling away through theforest, and Ivra, Eric and the others settled down to the business ofeating the birthday cake. 

But first the Tree Girl, who is very sensible, insisted that they eatsome nuts and apples. Indeed, she would allow no one a bite of thewonderful cake until he had eaten at least one apple and twenty nuts. 

Before Ivra cut the cake the others blew out the candles, one afteranother, and made her a wish in turn for every candle. The Tree Girlwished her a bright new year, the Bird Fairies that her mother wouldsoon return, the Wind Creatures that she would keep her gay heartforever, the Forest Children that she would become the most famous storyteller in the Forest World. 

And then it was Eric's turn. He had never been to a birthday partybefore, and never had he made a wish for some one else. So he was alittle puzzled. But at last he had an idea and cried, "I wish that yourhair will grow golden and curly before to-morrow morning. " Allprincesses Ivra had ever told him about had curly golden hair, andthough she had never said it, Eric had suspected for some time that Ivrawould like that kind of hair herself. Then he puffed his cheeks and blewout his candle, a fat green one. Ivra laughed. 

"The Snow Witches would never let me keep curly hair, " she said. "They'dwhip it straight in an hour. "

That reminded Eric of the pine cone box and he gave it to her and toldher about it. She was almost as delighted with that as with the cake. 

What a wonderful cake it was! Such food Eric had never dreamed of, andhe was a great dreamer! The frosting was over an inch thick. 

Then, of course, Ivra must tell them stories. All the Forest Peopleloved her stories. They built a fire to keep from freezing. The WindCreatures sat a little way off where it was cool enough for theircomfort, but not too far to hear Ivra's clear voice. This time she toldall she knew about the birthday of this Earth, one of the most magicaland splendid and strange of her stories. 

But it was the shortest day in the year, Ivra's birthday, and night fellall too soon. Then the Tree Girl, who seldom forgot to be sensible, saidthey had better go home. The littlest Forest Child was already asleep, curled close by the fire. They roused him gently. Good-nights werecalled and a few minutes after, the shelter was deserted, and the fireout. And by starlight could be seen many footprints leading away in thewhite snow out into all parts of the Forest. 

Eric and Ivra walked toward home hand in hand. They had to pass themorning's slide on the way. When they came in sight of it they began towalk more quickly and quietly and to look intently. The blue ice shonebluer than ever in starlight, but more than the ice shone. Shining_people_ were using the sleds and the hill was covered with them. 

"Why, they must be Star People, " Ivra cried excitedly. 

When they were quite near they stood to watch. 

The strange Star folk were very silent, never calling and laughing asthose who had slid there in the morning had done. Two, a little boy anda young girl, came spinning down on the same sled and stopped so nearthat Ivra and Eric might have touched them by leaning forward. But theStar-two must have thought the Forest-two shadows, for they paid noattention to them at all. 

Now that they were so near Eric could see that their hair was blue, likethe shadows on snow, and their faces a beautiful shining white. Theirstraight short garments were blue like shadows, too, and their arms, legs and feet were bare. But they did not seem conscious of the cold. Eric did not hear them speak, but they looked at each other as thoughthey _were_ speaking, and then suddenly the little boy laughed merrily, as though the young girl had just told him something very amusing. 

Soon the girl turned and ran away up the hill. But the little boy was asquick as she and threw himself on the sled while she never slackened herpace, but drew him straight and fast up the steep slope. 

"I have never seen them before, " Ivra whispered to Eric. "But mother hastold me of them. They don't talk as we do you see. They don't _have_ to. They know each other's thoughts. They almost never leave their Stars. Doyou think--perhaps, to-night they saw our slide shining, and wondered somuch about it they had to come down? Even mother has never seen them. It was Tree Mother told her. "

Eric was very silent, for he had never seen such beautiful people. Thelittle boy had had a face like a star, and great shining eyes. The younggirl had been clear like the day, and without smiling her face had beenbrimmed with happiness. 

But now he felt Ivra trembling. She whispered again, "You know, Eric, itis wonderful for us to see them like this. Some day, mother says, we mayget to be like them!"

"And speak without words?" Eric asked wondering. 

"Yes, and more than that. We may be as _alive_ as they. Now we're onlyForest people, and not all _that_ even--almost dreams. They are _real_!"

Then she took his hand and drew him away. "I cannot look any more, " shesaid; "can you? They are too beautiful!"

Eric put his fingers to his eyes as he walked. "Yes, it's hard to seethe ground now. My eyes ache a little. "

But how the children wished their mother were waiting for them in thelittle house to hear the tale!

CHAPTER XIII

NORA'S GRANDCHILDREN

One afternoon Eric and Ivra started out for the Forest Children's mossvillage to play with them. But when they got there they found all thelittle houses deserted: not a Forest Child was to be found. They musthave gone into some other part of the forest to play. So Ivra and Ericwandered on and on, a little lonely, a little tired of just each otherfor comrades, till at last they came to the very edge of theforest, --and there was Nora's farm, a rambling red brick house, with abarn twice its size behind it. Down in the pasture by the house half adozen Snow Witches were dancing in a circle, now near, now far, all overthe pasture, and sometimes right up to the farm-house windows. 

Ivra clapped her hands and bounded forward. Eric did not follow. Hestood to watch. When the Snow Witches saw Ivra running to them theyrushed to meet her. For a minute she was lost in a cloud of blown snow, and then there she was dancing in their circle back and forth across thepasture, and then away, away, away! But before she frolicked quite outof sight she turned to look for her playfellow, and beckoned to him. 

"Come on, " she called. "We're going to slide on the brook below thecornfield. "

But Eric did not follow. He did not like the Snow Witches. And just asIvra and the Witches drifted out of sight, he thought he heard theForest Children laughing. The sound came from the barn. So Eric ran tothe door. It was a big sliding door, and now stood open on a crack justlarge enough for a child to slip through. Eric went in. 

The barn was tremendously big, a great dusty place full of the smell ofhay. Ahead of him were two stalls, with a horse in one. But Eric wasmost interested in the empty stall, for it was from there the laughterseemed to come. He stood looking and listening, and then right downthrough the ceiling of the stall shot a child, and landed laughing andsquealing in the hay in the manger. She sat up, saw Eric and stared. Shewas a little girl about his own age, freckle-faced, snub-nosed andred-haired. She had the jolliest, the nicest face in the world. 

Eric opened his mouth to say, "Hello, " but kept it open, silent inamazement, for another child had shot through the ceiling and landedbeside the girl. This was a boy. He was red-headed, too, freckle-facedand snub-nosed. He looked even jollier than the girl. 

Before Eric had closed his mouth on his amazement, "Whoop!" and downcame another boy. This boy was red-haired, freckle-faced and snub-nosed, and he looked jollier than the other two put together, if that werepossible, for his red hair curled in saucy, tight little ringlets, andhis mouth was wide with smiles. 

It was this last one who said, "Hello, who are you?"

"Eric, --who are you?"

"Nora's grandchildren, of course. Come up. We're having sport. "

The three children ran across the barn to a ladder and scrambled up anddisappeared through a trap door at the top. Eric followed. The attic wasfull of hay in mountains and little hills, --hay and hay and hay. Hefollowed the children around the biggest mountain, through a tunnel--andthere they vanished!

He found the hole in the stable ceiling and looked down. Not very farbelow him was the manger full of hay and red-headed children. "Look outdown there! Whoop!" cried Eric, and dropped, landing among them. 

Then the four laughed heartily together and ran across the barn again, up the ladder, around the hay mountain and dropped down the hole. Theydid that dozens of times until they were tired of it. 

Then they played hide-and-go-seek in the hay country, and after thatBlind Man's Buff in the barn below. The little girl was Blind Man first. They tied a red handkerchief tight over her eyes. Then they ran about, dodging her, calling her, laughing at her groping hands and hesitatingsteps. But after a few minutes she became accustomed to the darkness andran and jumped about after them until they had to be very wary and swiftindeed. Soon she caught Eric and then he was Blind Man. 

By and by they played tag, just plain tag, and Eric liked that best ofall. Back and forth across the great room they raced, --up the ladder, over the hay, through the hole into the stable, round and round, in andout, up and down until they were too tired and hot for any more. 

Then they lay up in the hay where there was a little window, looking farout across the meadows. 

Eric saw Ivra out there in the first field, wandering around alone andnow and then looking up at the barn. She must have heard their shoutsand laughter. He pointed her out to the other children. "That is myplaymate out there, " he said. "Let's open the window and call to her tocome up. She'll tell us stories. "

The children looked out eagerly. "But there's nobody there, " they said. 

Eric laughed. "No, look!" He pointed with his finger. "Over there by thewhite birch. Look! She sees us. " He waved. "Quick, help me open thewindow. "

He could not find the catch. The window was draped with cobwebs anddusty with the dust of years. It looked as though it had never beenopened. 

The little red-headed girl put her hand on his arm. She was laughing. "Don't be silly, " she said. "There's no one by the white birch. You'reimagining. "

"Why, look! Of course she's there!" Eric was impatient. "She's movingnow, waving to us. Of course you see her!"

"Yes, " said the jolliest of the boys. "We do see it--faintly. We've seenit before too, --a kind of a shadow on the snow. But father says it'snothing to mind. Imaginings. Nothing real, just spots in our eyes orsomething. "

Then Eric remembered all that Ivra had told him. She was half fairy. People could see her if they looked hard enough. But they were not aptto believe their own eyes when they had looked. That was dreadful forher. She had not said so, but he had guessed it from her face when shetold him. Well, well, now he understood a little better. These wereEarth Children, with shadows in their eyes. Ivra could never be theirplaymate. 

But _he_ could see her well enough because his eyes were clear. Andpresently he would run out to her and they would go home together. Butjust now it was jolly and cozy here in the barn, and these EarthChildren were good fun. He hoped she would wait for him, but if she didnot he would find his way alone easily enough. 

"You don't really believe in it, do you?" the red-headed girl wasasking. "If you do, --better not. Grown-ups will laugh at you. "

"Nora, your grandmother, won't laugh, " said Eric. "She knows Ivra wellenough, and Helma, too. "

"Oh, yes, " said the jolliest boy. "But she is queer. We love her, andshe's a fine grandmother, I can tell you. And she tells the beststories. But she's queer just the same, and she can't fool us. "

"Let's go in and get some cookies from her, " said the other boy. "Theymust be done by now. "

So up they hopped, and without another look towards the shadow out onthe snow by the white birch, jumped down the hole, and ran out of thebarn into the kitchen. 

Nora was there knitting by a table, two big pans of cookies just out ofthe oven cooling in front of her. 

How good they smelled! Eric had never tasted hot ginger cookies before, and when Nora gave him one, a big round one all for his own, he almostdanced with delight. He perched on the edge of the table and ate thatone and many another before he was done. 

"This boy, grandma, " began the red-headed girl. 

"His name is Eric, " interrupted Nora, handing him another cookie. "Iknow him very well. "

"Well, he saw It while we were looking out of the barn window! And hesaid It was real and his playmate, and he wanted to call It in to tellus stories!"

"Don't say 'It, '" said Nora. "Her name is 'Ivra. ' But of course youcan't play with her. She isn't an Earth Child. She's a fairy. So don'tsay anything about it to your father when he comes home to-night. Itwould make him cross. "

"But it doesn't make you cross, " laughed the jolliest boy. "And so won'tyou tell us some stories about it now. You know, --the little house inthe wood, the Tree Man, the Forest Children, Helma, Ivra and all therest of it. "

"Do tell us a story, " begged the other two. 

So Nora put down her knitting, and taking the cat on her lap, a greatsleepy white fellow who had been purring by the stove, she began to tellthem stories. 

She told stories about Helma and Ivra, the Wind Creatures, the SnowWitches and many more. The children listened eagerly, clapping theirhands now and then, and at the end of every story asking for more. 

But Eric was lost in wonder. The children thought the stories were nottrue, --just fairy stories told them by a grandmother. And Nora hadevidently long ago given up expecting them to believe. Her black eyestwinkled knowingly when they met Eric's puzzled ones. 

And all the time Eric had only to turn his head to see Ivra walking outthere around in the field, looking at the farm house, waiting for him. But gradually, as the stories went on the little figure out there grewmore and more to look like just a blue shadow on the snow, paler andpaler. Finally he had to strain his eyes to see it at all. 

Then he jumped down from the table and said he must go home. His heartwas beating a little wildly. For he was afraid Ivra might fade away fromhim altogether. These red-headed children were fine playfellows. Heliked them, --oh, so much! He wished he could stay and play with themfor--a week. Yes. But he must go now. That blue shadow on the snowseemed lonely. 

"Take her some cookies, " said Nora, filling his pockets. The childrenlaughed at the top of their voices. "Yes, take some cookies to thefairy. But you can eat them yourself and pretend it is the fairy eatingthem, " they cried. 

Nora laughed with them, and so after a minute Eric joined in. But he andNora looked at each other through their laughter and noddedunderstanding. 

When Ivra saw him at last come out of the farm house door, she didn'twait longer, but ran away into the wood. He overtook her a long way in, walking rapidly. 

"Did you have a good time with the witches?" he asked. 

"Why didn't you come, too?" she said

"Oh, it was too cold. Nora's grandchildren are awfully good fun. Weplayed hide-and-go-seek, just as we played it at the Tree Man's party. "

"Did they laugh at me?"

" . . . No, they laughed at me. They thought I was a funny boy. "

"To have me for a playmate?"

Then Eric began to think that Ivra was not very happy. Perhaps she hadbeen lonely. 

"You're always running off with the Snow Witches, " he said. "But I won'tplay with Nora's grandchildren any more unless they'll let you play too. I won't, truly!"

Ivra laughed. And it was like spring coming into winter. "Yes, play withthem all you like! I love them, too. I've often watched them. Thelittlest boy, the one with the funny curls, laughs at me and stares andstares. But the other two . . . They just give me a glance and then forgetall about me. They don't think I'm real. But they are awfully jolly. Youplay with them and when you tell me about it afterwards I'll pretend Iwas there playing too. "

Then the two clasped hands and went skipping home. 

CHAPTER XIV

SPRING COMES

One morning when Ivra woke up she knew spring had come before her eyeswere open. But Eric had to go outdoors to make sure. He was sure enoughwhen he smelled the ground, a good earth smell. Snow still clung to thegarden in spots here and there, but the warm sun promised it would notbe for long. Something in the sky, something in the air, a smell ofearth, and a stirring in his own heart told him it was true. Spring hadcome!

Ivra had felt and known it before her eyes were open, and now that theywere open, those eyes of hers looked like two blue spring flowers justawake. She hopped about in the garden poking and prodding the earth witha stick, looking for her violets, her anemones, her star flowers. Not agreen leaf was pushing through yet, but oh, how soon there would be!

Suddenly she stopped and stood still looking away into the forest. Thenshe ran to Eric on the door stone. She cried, "Mother will come now. Don't you feel it? She will come with the spring!"

Eric did feel it. For there was magic in the day. The magic came to himin the air, in the smell of the earth, in the new warm wind and said, "Everything is yours that you want. Joy is coming. " And Mother Helma waswhat he wanted. So he felt sure she was on the way. 

"She must have found the key, --or do you suppose she climbed the graywall?" wondered Ivra. 

"Shall we go to meet her?" asked Eric. 

"No, no. We must get the house clean and ready for her. We must hurry. "

And then such a house-cleaning was begun as you or I have never seen. The Forest Children had been up at dawn to greet the spring, and nowthey came running to tell Ivra and Eric about it. When they heard thatHelma was at last coming back and the house was to be cleaned theywanted to help. First it was decided to wash the floor. Pail after pailof water from the fountain they splashed on it. Streamlets of waterflowed into the fireplace and out over the door stone. Out and in ranthe Forest Children trying to help, and with every step making footprints on the wet floor, muddy little foot prints, dozens of them andfinally hundreds of them. 

Then the windows were washed. And because the Forest Children could notrun on those they were made bright and clear. But soon the ForestChildren pressed their faces against the panes to watch for Helma, andas the minutes passed breath-clouds formed there, spreading anddeepening until the glass sparkled no more. But no one noticed. No onecared. For now they were shining up the dishes, polishing them withcloths, and setting them in neat rows in the cupboard. 

Then Wild Star appeared, his hands full of spring flowers that he hadfound deep in the forest in the sunniest and most protected place, thevery first spring flowers. "Helma must have gotten past that wall, nowit's spring, " he said; "and here are some flowers to greet her. See, Ileft the roots on, the way she likes them. Let's plant them by the doorstone. "

They dug up the earth with their hands, Forest Children's hands, WildStar's hands, Eric's and Ivra's, --and planted the flowers all about thedoor stone. Then Wild Star flew away a little languidly. 

Ivra looked after him. "He'll soon find the deepest, darkest, coolestplace, " she said, "make himself a nest of smooth leaves and dream awaythe summer. Fall and winter are his flying times. We shall see him at nomore parties for a while. "

"And the Snow Witches? What will become of them?" asked Eric. 

"They will get into hollows of old trees and under rocks, draw in theirskirts and their hair, curl up and sleep. "

"Good news!" thought Eric. But he did not say it for he knew Ivra likedthe Snow Witches almost best of all to play with and would miss them. 

Now the Tree Girl came through the gap in the hedge. She was wearing agreen frock, green sandals, and pussy willow buds made a wreath in herhair. 

"Spring, spring!" she cried as she came up the path. "We heard the saprunning in our tree all night. Father has gone on a spring wandering, and I shall stay within tree no longer for a while. "

"We know, we know!" crowed Ivra. "_I_ knew before my eyes were open thismorning. Eric had to smell the ground first. Imagine! We have beencleaning house. Mother will surely come now. Don't _you_ feel it?"

The Tree Girl lifted her face up in the new warm wind. Her soft hairfloated feather-like. "Yes, I feel it. She is on the way. Spring bringseverything. "

A bird flashed from the trees. It lighted on the hedge for a second andwas away again. But Eric had had time to recognize the beautiful bird hehad seen caged in the Witch's fir. 

"The caged bird!" he cried to Ivra. "It is free! It is flying away. "

The Bird Fairies were flying away, too. They were going to meet thebirds corning up from the south and teach them their songs as they flew. They came to say good-by to the children. 

"Look for us next winter, " they called back, as they fluttered off in asilvery cloud. 

And finally, at high noon, just as Ivra had known she would since earlymorning, Helma came, --running through the forest, jumping the hedge, andgathering Ivra and Eric into her arms. 

They three knelt on the ground by the spring flowers embracing eachother for a long, long minute. 

"Did you find the key to that gate?" Eric asked when his breath cameback, "Or did they let you come at last. "

"I didn't have to find the key, and they didn't let me come. They wouldnever have done that. But the minute I had on a light spring frock Ifound I could climb the wall easily enough, and so I came running allthe way. And now they shall never get me back behind doors again. I amfree! I am as free as you, my children!"

She held them off and looked into their eyes. 

She was dressed in a brown silk gown, all torn and stained from herwall-climbing and rush through the bushes. Her feet were bare, for shehad kicked off her funny high-heeled city boots the minute she hadreached the forest. Her hair had grown to her shoulders and looked morelike flower petals than ever. But her face was not brown and serene, asEric had first seen it. It was pale and wild. 

"They don't believe in you, children, " she said. "They don't believe inme, not the me that I am. And from morning to night they made me aslave. They made me wear such ugly, hurting things, and then they mademe dance! Every night we danced in hot rooms and ate strange bad-tastingfood. They called dancing like that a _party_. But I could only rememberour forest parties, and our dancing here under the cool moon. 

"The only glimpse of the forest I had was your Snow Witches, Ivra. Sometimes I saw them from my bedroom window, 'way out in the fields, whirling and scudding in mad games. And then at last one morning someWind Creatures flew by, above the garden wall! But when I called WildStar back and tried to ask him about you, children, as he perched on thewall, they came rushing into the garden and dragged me away. They saidit was time for luncheon, and I must change my frock. But let us forget. I am here! It is spring!"

She jumped up and stood just as the Tree Girl had stood earlier thatmorning, her face lifted in the wind. Slowly that face grew calm andwarm color flooded it. 

"How nicely cleaned the house is!" she exclaimed when at last they wentin. For she did not see the tracks on the floor nor the clouded windows. All she saw was that the children had worked there to make it fit forher home-coming. 

Ivra was proud and glad that she noticed. "I have made you a springfrock too, " she said, bringing it out. "And Eric has made you somesandals. He makes fine sandals now!"

The frock was a brown smock with a narrow green belt. 

The sandals were well made, and very soft and light. 

Helma stripped off the tattered silk frock, the funny thing with itslong sleeves and stiff lace collar, and hid it away out of sight. Onwent the new smock over her head in a twinkling. She stepped into thesandals. And there was their mother, the Helma Eric had first seen. 

"The garden now, we must see about that, " she said in her old quiet way. Then they went out into the garden, and Helma began to plan just wherethere should plant seeds and just what must be done. The children clungto her hands, looking up into her face, and would not let her take astep away from them. When she stood still they leaned against her, oneagainst either side, and wound their arms about her. 

In mid-afternoon, Spring came--not the spring of the year, but Springhimself, the person the season is named for. He was a tall young man, with a radiant face, and fair curls lifting in a cloud from his head. Where he walked the earth sprang up in green grass after his bare feet, and flowers followed him like a procession. Helma ran to him, swifterthan the children, and he kissed her lips. He lifted Ivra nigh on hisshoulder for one minute where she thought she looked away over thetreetops hundreds of miles to the blue ocean. But it may have been onlyhis eyes, which were very blue, that shee was looking into. 

With him came two Earth Giants. They were huge brown fellows withrolling muscles and kind, sleepy eyes. They crouched down at the openingin the hedge and waited for Spring to go on with them. 

"Shall we plant the garden, Helma?" asked Spring. 

"Yes, yes, " cried the children, and Helma said, "Yes, yes, " as eagerlyas they. 

So the Earth Giants came in and plowed it all up with theirhands, --hands twenty times as large as an Earth Man's! When they weredone, the garden was a rich golden color, and right for planting. ThenHelma pointed out to Spring where she wanted the seeds to be, violetshere, roses there, lilies there, pansies there and daisies there. Springgave some seeds to the children and sowed some himself. Helma sat on thedoor stone and joyously directed the work. 

By twilight the garden was done, and Spring went away with his EarthGiants. 

As he went out through the forest, flowers and green grass followedhim--and the next morning even the dullest Earth Person would know thatSpring had come. 

As for Helma and Ivra and Eric, the house would not hold their joy, andso they dragged out their beds and slept that night in the new-plowed, sweet-smelling garden. 

CHAPTER XV

SPRING WANDERING

"There goes another, " said Helma as she stood in the door the very nextmorning after her return. "The littlest Forest Child that was, and allby himself. He seems rather small to go spring-wandering alone. "

"He likes to go alone, " Ivra answered. She was setting the table forbreakfast, and Eric was helping her. "'Most always he's playing orwandering off by himself somewhere. "

Helma stood watching the little fellow until he had vanished amid thedelicate green of the forest morning. Then she tossed back her hair witha shake of her head and cried gayly, "Let's go wandering ourselves, pets. It's good to be home, but we have all our lives for that now. Let's adventure!"

The children were overjoyed. They did not want to wait for breakfast. But Helma thought they had better, for no one knew where, when or howtheir next meal would be. Of course, though, it was hard to eat. Youknow yourself how you feel about food when you are going on anadventure. However the bowls of cereal were swallowed somehow. Then thestoutest sandals were strapped on, and the three were ready to set out. 

First they went to Nora's farm and before they had waited many minutesin the shadow of the trees on the edge of the field Nora came from thedoor carrying their jug of milk. They ran to meet her and tell her notto leave any more milk until they should come back. How glad the oldwoman was to see Helma. "I thought spring would bring you, " she said. "Spring frees everything. "

Then Helma, Ivra and Eric were off for their spring wandering. It seemedas though every one else was wandering, too, for they could hardly walka mile without meeting some friend or stranger Forest Person. All gavethem greeting, whether stranger or friend, and all looked very glad thatHelma was in the forest again, for good news travels fast there, andeven the strangers knew of her home-coming. 

In a secret wooded valley, walking softly to hear the birds and thethousand little other songs of earth, they suddenly came upon a strangeand thrilling sight. A party of little girls and boys all in brightcolored frocks, purple, orange, green, blue, yellow, were putting thefinishing touches on an air-boat they were making. It was built ofdelicate leaved branches and decorated with wild flowers. A great anchorof dog-tooth violets hung over the sides and kept it on the ground. 

When they saw Helma and the children coming so silently toward them theyjumped into the boat and crowded there looking like a bunch of largerspring flowers. Then they drew in the anchor rapidly. But the littlegirl sitting high in the back, the one in the torn yellow dress and withblowing cloud-dark hair, cried, "Oh, no fear, it's Ivra and her motherand the clear-eyed Earth Child. Want to come, Ivra? We're off springwandering among the white clouds. "

Ivra shook her head and called, "Not unless three of us can come. "

"Too full for that, " called down the yellow-frocked one, for now theboat had lifted softly almost to the tree tops. "Your Earth Child wouldweigh us down. So hail and farewell. Good wandering!"

So the three on the ground stood looking up and waving and calling back, "Good wandering!" until the green boat had drifted away and away and waslost in the spring sky. But for a long time after, there floated down tothem in the valley far laughter and glad cries. 

The spring nights were cold, and so at twilight they made themselves ashelter of boughs. They slept as soon as it was night and woke and wereoff at the break of dawn. Helma carried sweet chocolate in her pockets, and forest friends and strangers offered them from their store all alongthe way. Sometimes when they were tired or warm with walking they wouldclimb into the top of some tall tree, and there swinging among the coolnew leaves, Helma began telling them her World Stories again, while thechildren looked off over the trembling forest roof and watched forhoming birds. 

But when the hemlock and fir trees began to crowd out the maples andoaks, Helma said quietly one day, "We are nearing the sea. " "The sea, "cried Eric almost wild with sudden delight. "Shall we see it? Shall weswim in it? Oh, I have never seen it!"

"Oh, I saw it from Spring's shoulder, " Ivra cried--she really thoughtshe had--"But mother, mother, what a wonderful surprise you had for us!"

They began to run in their eagerness. But Helma held them back. "It's aday's journey yet, " she said. And so they walked as patiently as theycould down a long, long slope through dark firs and hemlocks. 

It was noon of the following day when they finally came to the sea. Theyhad struggled through a thick undergrowth of thorned bushes where thegreat arms of the firs shut out everything ahead. Then suddenly theywere out of it, in the open, on the shore with the waves almost lappingtheir toes. It was high tide. The blue sea stretched away to the bluesky. 

Eric's legs gave way under him, and he knelt on the white sand, justlooking and looking at the bigness of it, the splendor of it, the colorof it, and listening to the music of it. Ivra ran right out into thefoam brought in by the breakers, up to her waist, where she splashed thewater with her palms until her hair and face were drenched with saltspray. Helma stood looking away to foreign countries which she couldalmost see. 

But they were not left long to themselves. The heads of a little girland boy and a young woman appeared over the crest of a great wave, andthe three were swept up to the shore. They grabbed Ivra and drew heralong with them as they passed, laughing musically. Ivra did not like itat first, and sprang away from them the minute she could shake herselffree. But when she saw their merry faces and heard them laugh, shereturned shyly. 

The children were about Eric's and Ivra's ages, and the young woman wastheir mother. The children's names were Nan and Dan, and the woman'sname was Sally. But though they had Earth names they were of thefairy-kind, --called in the Forest "Blue Water People. "

Just peer into a clear pool or stream, almost any bright day, and youwill be pretty sure to see one of them looking up at you. They are thesauciest and most mischievous of all fairies. Only stare at them alittle, and they will mock you to your face with smiles and pouts, andwill not go away as long as you stay. For they have no fear of you orany Earth People. They follow their streams right into towns and cities, under bridges and over dams. You are as likely to find one in your citypark as in the Forest. 

Helma spoke to Sally, while the children eyed each other curiously. Shesaid, "How happy you Blue Water People must be now Spring has freed youat last!"

Sally dropped down on the beach, her dark hair flung like a shadow onthe sand. Her laughing face looked straight up into the sky. Shestretched her arms above her head. 

"He came just in time. Another day--and we would have had to breakthrough the ice ourselves. Truly. We've never had such a long winter. Why, a _month_ ago we began to look for Spring. We lay with our facespressed against the cold ice for hours at a time, watching. We couldjust see light through, and shadows now and then. "

"And then I saw him first, " cried Dan, who was listening to his mother. 

"No, I!" cried Nan. 

"No, no, " Sallv laughed. "I heard him, singing, a long way off. And Icalled you children away from your game of shells. When his foot touchedthe ice we danced in circles of joy, and tapped messages through to himwith our fingers. The ice vanished under his feet, and our stream rushedhither away to the sea. We came with it, and waved him hail and farewellas we poured down. Who can stop at home in spring-time? And we had beenice-bound so long!"

"And now we're here, " boasted Dan, "I'm going to swim across the seato-morrow, --or the next day!"

"You're too little for that. Calm water is best, or little rushingstreams, " warned Sally. 

"What is it like across the sea?" asked Eric. "Another world?"

"I'll tell you about it in the next story, " promised Helma. "And thenwhen I have told you, Eric, you may want to go across yourself and seethe wonders. "

Eric drew a deep breath. "Yes, you and Ivra and I. In a boat. " Hepointed to a white sail far out stuck up like a feather slantwise in thewater. 

Ivra clapped her hands. 

But Helma shook her head. "When you go, it must be alone, Ivra and Ibelong to the Forest. "

"Why, then I don't want to go, ever. " Eric shook the thought from himlike water. 

"Well, let's swim across now, " Dan shouted, and ran into the waves, falling flat as soon as he was deep enough and swimming fast away. Theother children followed him, ready for a frolic. You or I would havefound that water very cold, but these were hardy children; and one ofthem all winter had made comrades of the Snow Witches, remember. 

They waded out to the surf and plunged through it, head first. They tookhands and floated in a circle beyond, rising and falling in the evenmotion of the rollers. Nan was very mischievous, and soon succeeded inpushing Eric out, under where the waves broke. When he looked upsuddenly and saw the great watery roof hanging over him, he wasterrified but he did not scream. People who comraded with Ivra could notdo that. He shut his eyes tight, and then thundering down came thewater-roof, and a second after, up bobbed Eric like a cork, choking andsputtering. They were laughing at him, even Ivra. The minute the saltwater was out of his eyes he laughed, too, and tried to push Nan intothe surf. But she was too quick for him, and slipped away, farther outto sea. 

Then began a game of water tag. Eric, because he was not such a goodswimmer as the others, was It most of the time. But Ivra had to take afew turns as well. It was impossible to catch the other two. They movedin the water as reflected light moves along a wall, not really swimmingat all, but flashing from spot to spot. 

Helma and Sally lay on the sand in the spring sunshine and talked abouttheir children. 

"Nan and Dan tear their clothes so, " sighed Sally, "I could spend all mytime mending. "

"I must make little Eric some new clothes, " said Helma. "I hope I havecloth enough at home. "

"Nan is naughty, but she is a darling, " laughed Sally as Eric was pushedunder the surf. 

Helma waited to see that he came up smiling and then said, "Ivra andEric never quarrel. They play together from morn till night like twosquirrels. "

 . . . They all had lunch together on the shore. The Blue Water Childreninstead of eating smelled some spring flowers which Sally had found. That is the way they always take their nourishment. Helma turned somelittle cakes of chocolate out of her pockets, and though at first itseemed like a small luncheon, when it was all eaten they felt satisfied. 

All the afternoon the children played up and down the beach. They founda smooth round pink sea-shell which they used for a ball. Eric was thebest at throwing. It made him happy and proud to excel in something atlast. He taught them how to play base ball, which he had once watchedMrs. Freg's boys playing on Sundays in the back yard. They used a pieceof drift wood for a bat, and when the shell got accidentally batted intothe sea the Blue Water Children fielded it like fishes. 

When they were tired of ball, the Blue Water Children drew lines on thesand for "hop scotch, "--a game they had sometimes watched city childrenplaying in a park, --and taught Ivra and Eric about that. 

Then they built a castle of sand, and walled it in with sea shells. Helma showed them how to make the moat and the bridge, and Sally and shetook turns and made up a story about the castle and told it to them. 

Towards evening some Earth People came by, near to the shore, in alittle steam launch. There were men and women and several children init. They crowded into the side of the boat towards the shore to starecuriously at Helma and Eric. They could not see the others, of course. Helma with her free, bright hair and bare feet looked very strange tothem. And they could not understand what Eric was doing with his armsheld straight out at each side. He was between Dan and Nan, holdingtheir hands, and standing to watch. But the Earth People looked rightthrough the Blue Water Children, or thought they were shadows perhaps. 

One of the men put his hands to his mouth like a megaphone and called toHelma, asking her if she did not want to be picked up. They thought herbeing there in that wild place with a little boy, alone, and barefooted, very singular. They thought she might have been shipwrecked. But Helmashook her head, and so they had to take their wonder away with them. Theboat swept by. 

Ivra ran out into the waves waist deep to watch the strange thing. Shehad never seen a steam launch before, or anything like it. A baby, heldin his nurse's arms, caught sight of her and waved tiny dimpled hands, calling and cooing. She saw his sparkling eyes, his light fuzzy hair, his little white dress and socks. She ran farther into the water, wavingback to him and throwing him dozens of kisses. But no one else in theboat saw her, and after a minute the baby's attention turned to a seagull flying overhead. 

Ivra returned to shore, her face shining. There had been no doubt ofit--the baby had seen her at once, and had had no doubts. He had laughedand reached his hands to her. The little Fairy Child almost huggedherself with delight. . . . 

They built themselves shelters of drift wood when night fell. Eric's wasjust large enough for him to crawl into and lie still. One whole side ofit was open to the sea. Soft fir boughs made his bed, and Helma had lefta kiss with him. But he did not sleep for a long while. He lay on hisside looking out over the star-sprinkled water and up at thestar-flowering sky. And he could not have told how or from where thecommand had come, but he knew as he looked that he must cross that seaand go into the new world beyond it and see all things for himself. World Stories were good. But they were not enough. 

How he was to go, or how live when he got there--he did not once thinkof that. Just that he _was_ to go filled his whole mind. He forgot thathe had said he would not go without Helma and Ivra. He did not think ofthem at all. He just lay still listening to the sea's command to gobeyond and beyond. 

CHAPTER XVI

OVER THE TREE TOPS

He was waked by Ivra's joyous cries just at dawn, and rolled out of hisshelter, rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms and legs. But as soonas his eyes were well open he jumped up and uttered a cry of joyhimself. For hanging just above the water on the edge of the sea was agreat blue sea-shell air-boat with blue sails; and the Tree Mother stoodin it, talking to Helma and Ivra who had run down to the water's edge. 

The boat and the sails were blue. Tree Mother's gown was blue. The seaand the sky were blue. Tiny white caps feathered the water. Tiny whiteclouds feathered the sky. And Tree Mother's hair was whiter and morefeathery than either. Her eyes were dark like the Tree Man's, onlykeener and softer, both. And in spite of her being a grandmother herface was brown and golden like a young out-of-door girl's, and she wasslim and quick and more than beautiful. Eric stood beside Ivra, his facelifted up to the Tree Mother's, aglow and quivering. 

"She is going to take us home, " Ivra said softly. 

Then Tree Mother turned the boat, and it drifted in and down on thesand. The children and Helma climbed in. The Tree Mother said verylittle on the long ride, but her presence was enough. The three werealmost trembling for joy, for the Tree Mother's companionship is rare, and one of the splendidest things that can happen to a Forest Person. 

The minute they were in the boat, it shot up and away towards home. 

"Where are the Blue Water Children?" Eric cried, suddenly rememberingtheir playmates of yesterday. 

"Have you been playing with Blue Water Children?" asked Tree Mother. "They are gypsy-folk and you never know where you will find them next. They are probably miles away by now. "

"Faster, faster, Tree Mother, " begged Ivra, who was hanging over theside of the boat and losing herself in joy with the motion and height. 

"Faster?" said the Tree Mother. "Then take care! Hold on!"

The boat shot forward with a sudden rush. The spring air changed fromcool feathers to a sharp wing beating their faces. Eric and Ivra slippedto the floor and lay on their backs. They dared not sit up for fear ofbeing swept overboard. They could see nothing but the sky from wherethey lay, but they loved the speed, and clapped their hands, and Ivracried, "Faster, faster!"

The Tree Mother laughed. "These are brave children, " she thought. "Shutyour eyes then, " she said, "and don't try too hard to breathe. "

They swept on more swiftly than a wild-goose, so swiftly that soon thechildren could neither hear, speak nor see. And then at last they weretraveling so fast that it felt as though the boat were standingperfectly still in a cold dark place. 

Gradually light began to leak through their shut eyelids, the wing ofthe wind beat away from them, and the boat rocked slower and slower inwarm, spring-scented air. But in that brief time, they had traveledmany, many miles. 

Now when the children leaned over the side, they saw that they weresailing slowly over their own Forest. The tree tops were like a restlessgreen sea just a little beneath them. They flew low enough to hear birdcalls and the voices of the streams. 

It was then they suddenly noticed that the littlest of the ForestChildren was there curled up fast asleep at Tree Mother's feet. Ivracried to him in surprise, and he woke slowly, stretching his littlebrown legs, shaking his curly head, and lifting a sleepy face. He waspuzzled at seeing others beside Tree Mother in the boat. He had beenriding and awake with her all night up near the stars, and had droppedto sleep as the stars faded. 

She bent now and took his hand. "I picked these wanderers up at dawn, "she said, "and now we are all going back together. We are well on theway. "

They had left the forest roof and were sailing over open country, --ashort cut, Tree Mother explained. 

"Oh, look, " cried Ivra excitedly, almost tumbling over the edge in herendeavor to see better, "isn't that the gray wall off there?"

Yes, it was the gray wall, the gray wall that had prisoned their motherall winter. The boat went slower and slower as they neared it and thenalmost hung still over the garden. The garden was full of people, havingsome kind of a party, for many little tables were set there with silverand glass that shone brilliantly in the sun. Servants were hurrying backand forth carrying trays and their gilt buttons sparkled almost as muchas the silver. 

But how strange were the people! Eric and Ivra and the littlest ForestChild laughed aloud. They were standing about so straight and stiff, holding their cups and saucers, and their voices rising up to theair-boat in confusion sounded like a hundred parrots. 

"Why don't they sit down on the grass to eat?" wondered the littlestForest Child. "And why don't they wash their feet in the fountain? Theylook so very hot and walk as though it hurt!"

"Sitting on the grass and washing their feet in the fountain is againstthe law there, " Helma said. 

But neither Ivra nor the littlest Forest Child knew what "against thelaw" meant. Eric knew, however, for he had lived nine years, remember, where most everything a little boy wanted _was_ against the law. 

"But why do they stay?" Eric asked. 

Helma looked a little grave. "Why did you stay, dear, for nine longyears?"

He thought a minute. "I hadn't seen the magic beckoning, " he answeredthen. 

"Neither have they, " she said, "and perhaps never will, for their eyesare getting dimmer all the time. "

"But how can they _help_ seeing it?" cried the littlest Forest Child. "See, all around the garden!"

It was true. All around the garden the tall trees stood and beckonedwith their high fingers, beckoned away and away with promise of magicbeyond magic. But the people in the garden never lifted their eyes tosee it. They were looking intently into their tea cups as though itmight be there magic was waiting. 

"They are prisoners, " said Tree Mother, "just as you were, Helma, withthis one difference. You were locked in, but they have locked themselvesin and carry their keys like precious things next their hearts. "

Helma sighed and laughed at once. Then she leaned far out and tossed adaffodil she was carrying down on the heads in the garden, shaking hershort, flower petal hair as she did it--she had cut it before startingon the adventure--in a free, glad way. 

No one looked up to see where the flower had dropped from. The peopledown there were not interested in offerings from the heavens. So theboat sailed on. Away and away over the canning factory they drifted, where the little girl looked out from her window and up, and waved herhands. "What are you waving at like that?" a man asked who was workingnear. "Oh, just a white summer cloud, " she said. For she knew very wellhe did not want the truth. And I might as well tell you here that thatpale little girl was a prisoner who had not turned the lock herself, anddid not carry the key next her heart. Others had done that before shewas born. And she had seen the beckoning in spite of the lock and nowwas only waiting a little while to answer it. 

The children were glad to find the forest roof beneath them again. Itwas noon when they sank down in the garden at their own white doorstone. Tree Mother left them there and flew away with the littlestForest Child, the one who liked to wander alone by himself. 

Nora was in the house when they ran in. She had cleaned it with adifferent cleaning from what it had had for Helma's first return. Therewere no little foot prints on the floor now, and the window panes shonelike clear pools in sunlight. Three dishes of early strawberries andthree deep bowls of cream were standing on the table before the opendoor. And then besides there was a big loaf of golden-brown bread. 

"I thought you would be hungry, " said Nora, pointing to the feast. 

They were hungry indeed, for they had had nothing at all to eat sinceyesterday's lunch of chocolate. They very soon finished the strawberriesand cream, and a jug of milk besides. 

"You are a good neighbor, Nora, " Helma said gratefully. 

All Nora wanted in return for her labor and kindness was the story oftheir adventure. She listened eagerly to every word. "I shall tell thisto my grandchildren, " she said when the story was done, "and they willthink it just a fairy tale. They'll never believe it's fairy truth! Oh, if they would only stop pretending to be so wise they themselves mightsome time get the chance of a ride over the tree tops with Tree Mother. But they never will. Come play with them again sometime, Eric. Theyoften talk about you. "

"I'll come to-day and bring Ivra if they'll play with her, too!"

But Nora shook her head as she went away. "They don't believe in Ivra. How could they play with her? Their grandmother can teach them nothing. But they'll like the story of this adventure none the less for notbelieving it. "

When she was gone the three took the dishes into the house and washedthem. Then they went out and worked in the garden until dusk. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE JUNE MOON

Now every day Eric was becoming acquainted with strange Forest People:those who had hidden away from winter in trees, and those who werewandering up from the south along with the birds, and Blue Water People, of course, all along the Forest streams. The Forest teemed with newplaymates for him and Ivra. 

Hide-and-go-seek was still the favorite game. And now it was more fun tobe "It" than to be hiding almost, for one was likely to come uponstrangers peeping out of tree hollows, swimming under water, or swingingin the tree tops, any minute. When the person who was "It" came acrossone of these strangers he would simply say, "I spy, and you're It. " Thenhe would draw the stranger away to the goal, where he usually joined thegame and was as much at home as though he had been playing in it fromthe very first. 

The day that Eric found Wild Thyme so was the best of all, --or rathershe was the best of all. And that was strange, for when he first spiedher he did not like her at all. Her dress was a purple slip just to herknees, with a big rent in the skirt. Her hair was short and bushy anddark. And her face was soberer than most Forest People's faces. She wassitting out at the edge of the Forest on a flat rock, her chin in herhands, and she did not look eager to make friends with any one. 

But he cried, "I spy! You're It!" just the same. She did not lift hereyes. She only said, "You must catch me first. I am Wild Thyme, and thatwill be hard!"

Eric laughed, for she was not a yard away from him. And he sprangforward as he laughed. But she was quicker than he. She had been atperfect rest on the rock, her chin in her hands, and not looking at him, but the instant he jumped she was off like a flash, a purple streakacross the field. 

But Eric did not let his surprise delay him. He ran after her just asfast as he could, and that was very, very fast, for running with Ivrahad taught him to run faster than most Earth Children ever dream ofrunning. Soon, Wild Thyme slowed down a little, and faced him, runningbackward, her bushy hair raised from her head in the wind of herrunning, her little brown face and great purple eyes gleamingmischievously. Eric sprang for her. She dodged. He sprang again. Shedodged again. He cried out in vexation and sprang again, straight andsure. He caught her by her bushy hair as she turned to fly. 

And a strange thing happened to him in that second, the second he caughther hair. Instead of Wild Thyme and the sunny field, he was looking atthe sea. He was standing on the shore, looking away and away, almost toforeign lands. Now ever since that spring night on the shore he had beenthinking of the sea and longing with all his might to cross it and seeforeign lands for himself. Only that had seemed impossible, andsomething he must surely wait till he was grown up to do. But now, in aflash, as his fingers closed on Wild Thyme's hair, he knew that he couldindeed do that, and anything else he really set his heart on. 

No girl, even a fairy, likes to have her hair pulled. So Wild Thyme wasangry. She pinched Eric's arm with all her strength. Then _he_ wasangry. And so they stood holding each other, he her by the hair, and shehim by the arm, staring hotly into each other's faces. But slowly theyrelaxed, and becoming their own natural selves again, broke intolaughter. 

"You'll play with us, won't you?" Eric asked. 

"Of course, " she said, "and I _am_ It!" And away they ran to find theothers, Ivra, the Tree Girl, the Forest Children, and Dan and Nan. Whenthose saw who it was Eric had captured they ran to meet her, shoutinggayly, "Wild Thyme! Goody! Goody! Hello, Wild Thyme!" They seemed tohave known her always. She and Ivra threw their arms about each other'sshoulders and danced away to the goal. 

Wild Thyme was a wonderful playfellow. She was so wild, so free, sostrong, so mischievous. And when the game was ended she invited them toa dance that very night. "It's to be around the Tree Man's Tree, " shesaid. "And all come--come when the moon rises. "

 . . . Perhaps Eric's good times in the Forest reached their very heightthat June night of the dance. He had never been to a dance before, andjust at first he did not think there would be much fun in it. But Ivrawanted him to go, and offered to show him about the dances. So they ranaway from the others to the edge of the field where Eric had discoveredWild Thyme, and there on the even, grassy ground Ivra showed him how todance. It was very easy, --not at all like the dances Earth Childrendance. It was much more fun, and much livelier. The dances were justwhirling and skipping and jumping, each dancer by himself, but all in acircle. Eric liked it as well as though it had been a new game. 

Late that afternoon Helma and Ivra and Eric gathered ferns and flowersto deck themselves for the evening. They put them on over the stream, which was the only mirror in the Forest. 

Helma made a girdle of brakes for herself, and a dandelion wreath forher hair. She wove a dear little cap of star flowers for Ivra, and achain of them for her neck. Eric crowned himself with bloodroot andcontrived grass sandals for his feet. But the sandals, of course, worethrough before the end of the first dance and fell off. 

They had a splendid supper of raspberries and cream, which they sat onthe door stone to eat, and then told stories to each other, while theywaited for the moon to rise. It came early, big and round and yellow, shining through the trees, flooding the aisles of the Forest with silverlight until they looked like still streams, and the trees like masts ofgreat ships standing in them. 

Then the three hurried away to the Tree Man's. They ran hand in handthrough the forest aisles, their faces as bright to each other as indaylight. But before they even came in sight of the tree they heardmusic. 

"Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmm, thrummmmmmmmmmmm. " Very soft, veryinsistent, very simple and strangely thrilling. When they came to thetree, there were the Forest Children, who had come early, whirlingaround in a circle, and the Tree Girl in the center of the circle makingmusic with a tiny instrument she held in one hand and touched with thefingers of the other. 

Soon Forest People began arriving from every direction. There were theBlue Water Children, bright pebbles around their necks, and white seashells in their blue hair. The Forest Children were crowned withmaidenhair fern. The Tree Girl was the most beautiful of all in hersilver cobweb frock and her cloudy hair. The Tree Man stood still in theshadow, but his long white beard gleamed out, and his deep eyes. WildThyme wore a rope of the flower that is named for her around her neck, but there was a new rent in her purple frock and her legs were scratchedas though she had remembered her dance only the last minute and comeplunging the shortest way through bushes, which was true. 

Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmmmm. 

Every one except the Tree Man was dancing, bewitched in the moonlight, all over the grassy space around the great tree. The grass was cool andrefreshing under Eric's bare feet, and he often dug his bare toes intothe soft earth at its roots as he leapt or ran just to make sure he wason earth at all. For he felt as though he were swimming in moonlight, orat least treading it. 

Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmmmm. 

When the Tree Girl's music stopped between dances, then it would go onin Eric's head. It was just the sound of the night after all. Once Ericnoticed that the Beautiful Wicked Witch was dancing next to him in thecircle but he was not afraid of her there with the others, and in brightmoonlight. And she was plotting no ill. Her face was sparkling withdelight and she had utterly forgotten herself in the dance. 

When the great moon hung just above them, and shadows were few and farbetween, the Tree Mother came walking through the Forest, quieter andmore beautiful than the moon. Wild Thyme ran to her and laid her bushyhead against her breast. For Wild Thyme only of all the Forest Peopleloved her without awe. The Tree Mother put her hand on Wild Thyme's headand stood to watch the dancing. Her robe gleamed like frost, and herhair was a pool of light above her head. 

Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmmm. 

Wild Thyme jumped back into the dance and the Tree Mother stood alone. But although she stood as still as a moonbeam under the tree, she madeEric think of dancing more than all the others put together. It was hereyes. The thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmmmm was in them, and the restof that night Eric felt as though the music-instrument the Tree Girl wasswinging was silent, and that all the music flowed from Tree Mother. 

But Eric, after all, was only an Earth Child, and his legs got verytired in spite of the music and the moonlight. So at last he slipped outof the circle, and stumbling with weariness and sleepiness went to TreeMother. She picked him up in her arms, and the minute his head touchedher shoulder he was sound asleep, the music at last hushed in his head. 

When he woke it was summer dawn. The birds were flitting above in thetree-boughs and making high singing. He was alone, lying beneath asilver birch, his head among the star flowers. 

He knew that Helma and Ivra had not wanted to wake him, but had gonehome when the moon set, and were waiting breakfast for him there now. Sohe jumped up and ran home through the dew. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE DEEPEST PLACE IN THE WOOD

It was on the hottest day of all the hot days of summer that Eric foundthe deepest place in the Forest. He wandered into it while he waslooking for Wild Thyme. Ivra had been no good to him that day. She wasusually ready to play in any weather; but on this, the hottest day ofthe year, she stayed indoors, where it was a little cooler, and lying onthe settle she drew paper dolls on birch bark, and afterwards cut themout. Yes, even fairy children love paper dolls and Ivra loved them morethan most. Eric wanted her to go swimming in the stream, but he teasedher to in vain, for she was entranced with the dolls and would hardlylift her eyes from them. 

Helma was swinging in a vine swing she had made for herself high in atree above the garden. One of the Little People was perched on a leafjust over her head, and they were chattering together like equals. Theireager voices floated down to Eric standing disconsolate near the doorstone. But Helma usually knew when her children were in trouble, nomatter how tiny the trouble, and so before Eric had stood there long ordug up more than a bushel of earth with his bare toes, she leaned overthe nest and called to him. 

"Why don't you go and play with Wild Thyme? She doesn't mind the heat. Every one else is staying quiet till sundown. "

Wild Thyme was a happy thought, and Eric walked away in search of her. But she was in the very last place he would have thought to look on sucha scorching day, and that is how he missed her. She was lying fulllength on the hot burnt grass in the field at the Forest's edge, lovingthe heat and sunshine, which covered her like a mantle. If Eric had seenher it is probable he would not have known her or stopped to look twice. He would have thought her just a little patch of the flower that isnamed for her. 

So he wandered on and on, looking high and low and all about for her, and he went deeper and deeper into the Forest. The deeper he went thecooler it became, for the forest roof kept out the sunshine. The lightgrew dimmer and dimmer too. Eric had never been so far in before andeverything was strange to him. 

He saw no Forest People except a little brown goblin who peered at himfrom some underbrush and then scuttled away into the darkness of denserbrush. Eric had never seen a goblin before, but he had no fear ofgoblins, and so this one did not bother him at all. He heard othersscuttling and squeaking, and one threw a chunk of gray moss at him. Hestopped and picked it up and threw it back with a laugh in the directionit had come from. 

"Come out and play, why don't you?" he called. "I know where there's afine swimming pool. " But there was no answer to his invitation. Insteadthere was sudden and utter silence. He was disappointed, for he did wanta playmate, and he had almost given up looking for Wild Thyme. 

After walking for a long while he came at last to one of the windings ofthe Forest stream, and gratefully stepped into the shallow, clear water, dark with shadows. His feet were burning, and his head was hot. So hedrank a long drink of the cold, delicious water, ducked his head, andfinally washed his face. Then he waded on with no purpose in mind nowbut just to keep his feet in the water. 

It was so he came to the deepest place; where not even Ivra had everbeen. It was almost cool there, and more like twilight than earlyafternoon. And right in the deepest place, in a nest of smooth leaves, with his feet in the water, lay Wild Star. When Eric first caught sightof him he thought he was asleep, for his wings were lying on the leaveshalf folded and dropped, and his knees were higher than his head. Butwhen Eric went close enough to see his eyes he knew that he was verywide awake, for they were wide open, watchful and intent, --and purplelike the early morning. Such wide-awake eyes were startling in such asleepy, still place. Eric expected him to spread his wings in a flashand dart away. But the wings stayed half open, purple shadows on theleaves, and Wild Star did not even raise his head. Only his eyes greetedEric. 

But Eric knew without words that Wild Star was glad to see him. So hestepped up out of the water and stretched himself on a mound of silverymoss near by. With his chin resting in his palms and his elbowssupporting, he faced the Wind Creature, his clear blue eyes open to theintent purple ones. 

It was Wild Star who spoke first. 

"I thought, little Eric, you would have crossed the sea before this, andbe out of the Forest. I expected to find you next fall on the other sideof the world. "

Eric was amazed, for he had not said one word of his dream about that toany one. "How did you know I wanted to go?" he cried. 

"Oh, you are an Earth Child, after all, and I knew you would want to begoing on, as soon as you saw the sea. "

"But _why_ do I want to go on?" asked Eric, his face clouding with thepuzzle of it. "I am so happy here, and Helma is my mother now. Therecan't be another mother across the sea for me. And if there were Iwouldn't want her, --not after Helma! No, Helma is my only mother, andIvra is my comrade. And still I want to leave them, --and go on and awayover there. It is very funny. "

"No, " said Wild Star. "It isn't funny. You are a growing Earth Child, not a fairy. It is your own kind calling you. It is the music of yourhuman life. "

"I don't know what you mean, " said Eric. 

"It is like this: you know when you begin to sing a song, you go on andon to the end without thinking about it at all. It is the theme thatcarries you. Well, a human life is made like a song, --it carries itselfalong. You do not stop to think why. It can't stop in the middle, on onechord, for long. Yours now is resting, on a chord of happiness. But soonit will go on again. You want it to. Life in the Forest, though, isn'tlike that. Here it is music without any theme, like the music we danceto. Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrummmmmmmm. But there is more than that to anEarth Child's life. It runs on like this stream. The stream is happyhere in the Forest, too, but it goes on seeking the sea just the same. "

There was a long stillness while Eric looked down into the green depthsof the water. At last he asked, "But how could I ever get across thesea? And when I got there how could I get back?"

"Time enough to think about getting back when you are there, " laughedWild Star. "But as to getting there, Helma is the one to tell you that. She has been an Earth Child, too, you know. She felt just as you did, that spring night on the shore. She has felt it many times. It is onlyIvra that keeps her in the Forest. Ivra docs not belong out in the worldof humans, and Helma will never leave her. But she will understandyour longing. All you have to do is tell her. "

Eric clapped his hands, a habit he had caught from Ivra. "Oh, I shallcross in a ship, " he cried, "and see all the foreign lands. And when Icome back, think of the World Stories I shall have to tell Helma andIvra!"

He sprang up in his joy, and felt as though he had wings on hisshoulders like Wild Star, and had only to spread them out to go beatingaround the world. For a second the Wind Creature and the Earth Childlooked very much alike. And indeed, the only difference was that WildStar had to wait for the wind, and Eric need wait for no wind or noseason. His wings were _inside of his head_, but they were as strong asWild Star's. And he had only to spread them and lift them to go anywherehe wanted. 

Now he wanted to get back to Helma and tell her all about it. Wild Starpointed him the shortest way, and off he ran, jumping the stream and themoss beds beyond, and disappearing into the underbrush. 

"I'll look for you next time the other side of the world!" Wild Starshouted after him. 

It was twilight when he reached home. Helma and Ivra were sitting on thedoor stone, hand in hand. They made room for Eric. But he did notsnuggle up. He stayed erect, his face lifted towards the first dimstars, and told Helma all about his wanting to go away from them outthrough the Forest and across the sea, and all that Wild Star had saidabout music and Earth People's lives. And he told her, too, of thevision of success he had had when he caught Wild Thyme that first day byher bushy hair. 

Helma listened quietly, and said nothing for many minutes after he wasthrough. But at last she spoke, putting a hushing hand on Eric'sdreamful head. 

"I understand, " she said. "I knew you would want to go on sometime. AndI have a friend across there who will help us. He has a school for boysand I got to know him very well behind the gray stone wall. He asked meabout the Forest and you children. And he said that Eric sometime wouldsurely want to go back to humans, and when he did he would help him. Heunderstands boys. It is to him you had better go, Eric, and when you arereally ready I will tell you how, and start you on your way. "

Eric sighed with contentment, and leaned his head against Helma'sshoulder. 

But Ivra stayed at her mother's other side, as still and silent as ashadow. Soon the fireflies began their nightly dance in the garden. ButIvra did not go darting after them as usual to make their dance theswifter. And Eric's head was too full of dreams and his eyes too full ofvisions of the sea to notice them at all. 

CHAPTER XIX

MORE MAGIC IN A MIST

Indian summer had come round again before Eric really made up his mind togo. The flowers were asleep in the garden, and there was a steady, gentle shower of yellow leaves down the Forest. That morning when hewoke the little house seemed suspended in a golden mist. As he stood inthe doorway he felt as though it might drift away up over the trees andinto space any minute. But after a little he knew it was not Helma'slittle forest house that was to go swinging away into space andadventure, --it was himself. And suddenly he wanted to go _then_, --to thesea and over and beyond. He called the news in to Helma and Ivra, whowere still within doors. Helma came swiftly out to him. 

"The trees are beckoning again, mother, " he cried. "The way they did ayear ago when I first came here. Now it is just as Wild Star said. Themusic is beginning to go on. There's magic out to-day. Oh, what madeWild Star know so much?"

"Sit down, " said Helma. She took his hand and drew him down beside heron the door stone. Then she held it firmly while very slowly anddistinctly, but once only, she gave him directions about how to go, where to go and what to do, so that he might follow the magic. 

Eric sat and listened attentively, in spite of the high beating of hisheart, and the magic working in his head. As soon as she was done, hewanted to go right away that minute. For even in his happiness he knewthat saying good-by to all his friends in the Forest would be too sad atask. They did not say good-by when they went on long adventures, orfollowed summer south. They simply disappeared one day, and those whostayed behind forgot them until next season. So Eric would do as they. 

Only last week Helma had made him a warm brown suit for the comingwinter. The new strong sandals on his feet he had made himself. His capwas new, too, and Helma had stuck two new little brown feathers in it asin the old one; so he still had a look of flying. There was reallynothing to delay his departure further. Helma called to Ivra, and shecame out slowly. There was no need to explain things to her, for she hadheard everything. 

Helma lifted Eric's chin in her palms and looked long and earnestly atthe child she was letting go away from her all alone out into the queerworld of Earth People. She picked him up in her strong arms then, asthough he were a very little boy, and kissed him. She ran with him tothe opening in the hedge and set him down there, laughing. 

"Run along now 'round the world, " she said. "And when you come backbring a hundred new World Stories with you!"

Eric laughed too, and promised and stood on tiptoes to kiss her again. He stroked her short flower petal hair, and kissed her cool brown cheekover and over. But he did not cling to her. And he did not say anotherword, but ran to catch up with Ivra who was to walk with him until noonand had gone on ahead. 

The children did not scuffle through the banks of leaves, or jump andrun and burst into play as they were used to doing. They walked steadilyforward, saying very little, neither hurrying nor delaying their steps. Once when Eric's sandal came untied Ivra knelt to fix it, for she wasstill more skillful with knots than he. 

But when the sun showed that it was noon, Ivra's steps grew slower andslower, dragged and dragged, until at last she stood still in a billowof leaves. 

"I have to go back now, " she said. 

In a flash all the magic swept out of the day for Eric. He knew he couldnever say good-by to Ivra, so he stayed silent, looking ahead into thefluttering, golden forest. But even as he looked the trees began tobeckon with their high fingers, and 'way away, down long avenues oftrees he _almost_ glimpsed the sea. 

Ivra threw her arms about his neck and kissed him. "Good-by, comrade, "was all she said. 

He kissed her cheeks. "I'll come back, " he promised. But before he hadgone many steps he turned to see her again. She was standing in thebillow of leaves, a lonely-looking little girl, her face paler than ithad been even on that day of the wind-hunt. He wanted to run back to herand tell her he would be her playmate always, and never leave theForest. But he wanted, too, to go on and across the sea and into foreignlands. He stayed irresolute. 

And then quite suddenly, standing just behind Ivra, he saw Tree Mother. She was not looking at him at all, but at Ivra, and her eyes were kindstars. When Ivra turned to go home she must walk right into TreeMother's arms and against her breast. So Eric was happy again, Ivracould not be lonely with dear Tree Mother. Perhaps she would take her upin her air-boat high above the falling leaves, where she could look downon the magic. He waved, calling, "Remember me to the Snow Witches whenthey come. " That was not because he really wanted to be remembered tothem but because he knew that Ivra liked them best of all, and itwould please her. 

She nodded and waved too, and threw him a kiss. Then a shower offluttering leaves came between the playmates. 

When it was clear again Eric had run on out of sight, and was lost toIvra in the Forest. On and on and on through the showers of goldenleaves he went, magic at his elbow and around him, and beckoning aheadof him. And after long walking and many thoughts, at last he did see thesea, gleaming blue and white sparkles between the golden trees.