I went through
the forest, hoping to sell my fish in the city beyond. I was alone,
for my wife was at home watching our little babe. Our little babe was
dear to us and very fair.
'In the evening, having sold all my fish, I went home through the
haunted forest, nor did I fear its gloom, for the Lord was at my
right hand.
'But no sooner had I left the wood than I saw my wife running toward
me, while tears streamed from her eyes. She had dressed herself, I
noticed, in black garments, and this she was not used to do. I felt
sure that trouble had befallen us.
'"Where is our child, our little one?" I cried, though even as I spoke
my voice was choked with sobs.
'"Our child is with God, the great Father," answered my wife.
'Then in the midst of her tears the poor mother told her sad tale.
'"I took our child down to the edge of the lake, and there we played
together, so happy, so merry. Suddenly the little one bent forward as
though she saw something beautiful in the water. Then she smiled, and
stretched out her tiny hands, and even as she did so, she slipped from
my arms into the lake, and I saw her no more."
'That evening,' said the fisherman, 'my wife and I sat by our hearth
in silence, we were too sad for words. Suddenly the door of our
cottage flew open, and there before us,[1] on the threshold, stood a
little maiden, three or four years of age. Her eyes were blue and her
hair was gold and she was clothed in beautiful garments.
[Footnote 1: See frontispiece.]
'We gazed in wonder at the tiny vision. Who was she? From whence had
she come? Was she only a magic child come to mock us in our
loneliness, or was she a real, a living child?
'Then as we looked we saw that water trickled from her golden hair and
that little streams were gathering at her tiny feet, as the water
dripped and dripped from her beautiful clothing.
'"She must have fallen into the lake," I said to my wife, "and in some
strange way have wandered into our cottage. We have lost our own dear
child, let us now do all we can to help this little one." Thus it came
to pass that the little stranger slept in the cot in which until now
our own babe had lain.
'When morning dawned my wife fed our tiny guest with bread and milk,
and the little one looked upon us, and her blue eyes danced merrily,
but never a word did she say.
'We asked her where her father and mother dwelt and how she had come
to our cottage. But her only answer was some chil
|