nument over them, but Nibble wants to put 'the Murdered and the
Murderess' on it, and I won't have it." "I certainly would not!" said I.
"But now you must call Nibble, and Brighteyes too, for the little Winds
are growing impatient, and we must be off. Dry your eyes, little one,
and think what a fine ride you are going to have!"

Nibble and Brighteyes were summoned; and in a few minutes all the five
mice were sitting comfortably in the very softest, fattest, whitest
cloud that the whole sky could produce. How it curled up round their
shoulders, and wrapped itself about them! and how they did enjoy the
luxurious softness! then the seven Winds puffed at it, and away it went
like a ball of thistledown through the air! "Where shall we go, my
pets?" I asked, as I rode along, beside them. "You have the wide world
to choose from, und shall go just where you please." "I want to go to
the North Pole, Mr. Moonman!" cried Nibble. "You promised us to take us
there, you remember, the last time you came. I want to see the icebergs,
and the white bears, and all the wonderful things there are there!" "To
the North Pole it is, then!" I replied. "It is just the night for it, as
all the savage Winds are away."

So we flew northward, far and far away, over cities and hamlets, over
vast plains and shaggy forests. By the margin of a pond that we passed
a tall night-heron was standing on one leg. He looked up at us, and was
so much astonished that he toppled over and fell into the water with a
loud splash. How all the mice laughed, and the merry Winds with them!
all, that is, except my little Fluff, who looked sad, and was still
thinking of Vashti Ann. "Fluffy," I said, "I must see you smile again.
Shall I sing you a song that I heard to-day?" "Yes, if you please, Mr.
Moonman!" said Fluff meekly. "It is a funny little song," I said. "I
heard an Irish mother singing it to her baby. She was sitting by the
door of her cottage with the baby in her lap, and she was paring
potatoes, and all the parings fell into the baby's face, but he did not
seem to mind it at all, so I suppose it was all right."

[Illustration]

Eight little gurrls wid their aprons on,
Wint out to get some wather,
But niver a dhrop could be found at ahl,
By any mother's daughter.

"Now well-a-day!" said the eight little gurrls,
"If we git no wather we shall die!"
"Oh! the very best way," said the ei