ious.

"That's what's so wrong with England. Ah, these board schools! I want to
dig up all the board schools and plant red mushrooms. Then, of course,
the fairies will each have an endowed mushroom, the children will be
properly taught how to stay young, and we shall live happily ever
afterward.

"Do you know I called on the prime minister, and, politics apart, he's
not at all a bad fellow. We quite agreed, especially about drowning the
Board of Education, but then the nonconformist conscience would get
shocked, while as to the treasury--bigots, my dear, are getting more
bigotty every day."

I was getting mixed.

"So you see, Kate, with mushrooms at fourpence a pound, it stands to
reason that they're very plentiful at Frognall End, with fairies in
strict proportion: one mushroom--one fairy, that is in English weather.
In a dry season, of course, they _can_ sit on the ground, although it
wouldn't be quite the thing; whereas in wet weather they really require
their mushrooms--and you know they're much too careless to clear up
afterward. Yes, at Frognall End young David would get what modern
children need so very badly--some wholesome uneducation."

This the father explained in all its branches.

1. Consider the lilies.

2. Take no thought for the morrow.

3. Blessed are the poor in spirit, the pure, the merciful, the
peacemakers.

4. Suffer the little children to come unto me.

"You see," he added wistfully, "the churches have to preach a heap of
doctrines piled twenty centuries high--with truth squashed flat beneath.
The poor are very worrisome, too, and there's such a lot of heathen to
convert. Why, all of our educated people belong to societies for
reforming their neighbors, and yet--and yet--well, fairies have a nicer
time than curates."

Frognall End, where my saint is curate-in-charge, is on the river near
Windsor, and there I went to live with Baby David. It was there I
learned that heartache is a cultivated plant not known along the
hedge-rows, that peace may be found as long as the gorse blooms, that
love grows lustiest where it has least soil. For the rest, please see
the Reverend Jared Nisted's _Fairyland_ which is full of most important
information for all who are weary and heavy-laden. Its text is from the
Logia of Christ: "Raise the stone, and thou shalt find Me; cleave the
wood and I am there."

From the first my Heaven-born was interested in milk, later in a growing
number of worldly thing