of the
soap-bubble.

"Oh! Glynn," exclaimed Ailie, looking round and heaving a deep sigh;
"I've been away--far, far away--you can't believe how far."

"Away, Ailie! Where have you been?" asked Glynn, patting the child's
head as he leaned over the gunwale beside her.

"In Fairyland. Up in the clouds yonder. Out and in, and up and down.
Oh, you've no idea. Just look." She pointed eagerly to an immense
towering cloud that rose like a conspicuous landmark in the centre of
the landscape of the airy world above. "Do you see that mountain?"

"Yes, Ailie; the one in the middle, you mean, don't you? Yes, well?"

"Well," continued the child, eagerly and hurriedly, as if she feared to
lose the thread of memory that formed the warp and woof of the delicate
fabric she had been engaged in weaving; "well, I began there; I went in
behind it, and I met a fairy--not really, you know, but I tried to think
I met one, so I began to speak to her, and then I made her speak to me,
and her voice was so small and soft and sweet. She had on silver wings,
and a star--a bright star in her forehead--and she carried a wand with a
star on the top of it too. So I asked her to take me to see her
kingdom, and I made her say she would--and, do you know, Glynn, I really
felt at last as if she didn't wait for me to tell her what to say, but
just went straight on, answering my questions, and putting questions to
me in return. Wasn't it funny?

"Well, we went on, and on, and on--the fairy and me--up one beautiful
mountain of snow and down another, talking all the time so pleasantly,
until we came to a great dark cave; so I made up my mind to make a lion
come out of it; but the fairy said, `No, let it be a bear;' and
immediately a great bear came out. Wasn't it strange? It really seemed
as if the fairy had become real, and could do things of her own accord."

The child paused at this point, and looking with an expression of awe
into her companion's face, said--"Do you think, Glynn, that people can
_think_ so hard that fairies _really_ come to them?"

Glynn looked perplexed.

"No, Ailie, I suspect they can't--not because we can't think hard
enough, but because there are no fairies to come."

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry!" replied the child sadly.

"Why?" inquired Glynn.

"Because I love them _so_ much--of course, I mean the good ones. I
don't like the bad ones--though they're very useful, because they're
nice to kill, and punish, and make ex