was boiling on some sticks,
and she was going to make tea out of doors:--

The marten flew to the finch's nest,
Feathers, and moss, and a wisp of hay:
"The arrow it sped to thy brown mate's breast;
Low in the broom is thy mate to-day."

"Liest thou low, love? low in the broom?
Feathers and moss, and a wisp of hay,
Warm the white eggs till I learn his doom."
She beateth her wings, and away, away.

"Ah, my sweet singer, thy days are told
(Feathers and moss, and a wisp of hay)!
Thine eyes are dim, and the eggs grow cold.
O mournful morrow! O dark to-day!"

The finch flew back to her cold, cold nest,
Feathers and moss, and a wisp of hay,
Mine is the trouble that rent her breast,
And home is silent, and love is clay.

Jack felt very tired indeed,--as much tired as if he had really been
out all day on the river, and gliding under the coils of the Craken.
He however rose up, when the apple-woman called him, and drank his
tea, and had some fairy bread with it, which refreshed him very much.

After tea he measured Mopsa again, and found that she had grown up to
a higher button. She looked much wiser too, and when he said she must
be taught to read she made no objection, so he arranged daisies and
buttercups into the forms of the letters, and she learnt nearly all of
them that one evening, while crowds of the one-foot-one fairies looked
on, hanging from the boughs and sitting in the grass, and shouting
out the names of the letters as Mopsa said them. They were very
polite to Jack, for they gathered all these flowers for him, and
emptied them from their little caps at his feet as fast as he wanted
them.

CHAPTER XI.

GOOD-MORNING, SISTER.

Sweet is childhood--childhood's over,
Kiss and part.
Sweet is youth; but youth's a rover--
So's my heart.
Sweet is rest; but by all showing
Toil is nigh.
We must go. Alas! the going,
Say "good-bye."

Jack crept under his canopy, went to sleep early that night, and did
not wake till the sun had risen, when the apple-woman called him, and
said breakfast was nearly ready.

The same thing never happens twice in Fairyland, so this time the
breakfast was not spread in a tent, but on the river. The Queen had
cut off a tiny piece of her robe, the one-foot-one fairies had
stretched it till it was very large, and then they had spread it on
the water, where it floated and lay like