But you don't want to hear about my troubles. This is more in
your line!" He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a flageolet,
which he put to his lips.
"Listen!" he said.
To the girl it seemed as though the little tune had leapt from the
pipe, and was dancing round the ring like a real fairy, while echo
came tripping through the trees to join it. The boy gaped and said
nothing.
At last, when the fairy was beginning to falter and echo was quite
out of breath, the man took the flageolet from his lips.
"Well," he said, with a smile.
"Thank you very much," said the girl politely. "I think that was very
nice indeed. Oh, boy!" she broke off, "you're hurting my hand!"
The boy's eyes were shining strangely, and he was waving his arms in
dismay.
"All the wasted moonlight!" he cried; "the grass is quite wet with
it."
The girl turned to him in surprise.
"Why, boy, you've found your voice."
"After that," said the man gravely, as he put his flageolet back in
his pocket, "I think I will show you the inside of my knapsack."
The girl bent down eagerly, while he loosened the straps, but gave a
cry of disappointment when she saw the contents.
"Pictures!" she said.
"Pictures," echoed the man drily,--"pictures of dreams. I don't know
how you're going to see them. Perhaps the moon will do her best."
The girl looked at them nicely, and passed them on one by one to the
boy. Presently she made a discovery.
"Oh, boy!" she cried, "your tears are spoiling all the pictures.
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