y poor Nero!" she said; "look at him, he is not thriving at
all. And what will become of me, a lone widow woman, if aught befall my
black dog? And only think, I cannot persuade him to wear the jacket I
sewed for him out of my own best mantle!"

"Poor black dog!" said the little fairy as gravely as she could, and
nothing more.

After that she went away; and the same night the dog disappeared.

Dame Dorothy sought for him high and low, called him by name, coaxingly,
entreatingly; but all in vain. Then she sat down in her great armchair
by her own fireside, and began to weep for her favourite.

Now it was a very comfortable chair, and the beech-logs in the wide
grate sent out a nice warm glow, and it was the first time for months
that the rightful possessor of the place could enjoy these in
undisturbed tranquillity.

Dame Dorothy soon fell fast asleep. And then she had such funny dreams
about _white_ dogs, and _black_ fairies, and school children, all
clothed in little jackets cut out of her own best mantle, that she
laughed aloud several times in her sleep, and indeed did not waken until
the morning sun sent his beams in through the diamond panes of her
window.

Many days Dame Dorothy searched for her black dog in every corner of the
cottage, and under every bush in the garden, and all among her privet
hedge, for she was sure he had lain down in some spot to die. But not
the least trace of him did she discover.

And then she gathered up all her grief to pour it forth in one loud,
intense lamentation the first time the bright little fairy should
arrive.

"But oh, do not weep so, good Dame Dorothy," said the little lady.
"When I return again, I shall fetch you another pet to keep you company
all day long, and bring joy to your heart, and peace to your fireside!"

She kept faithful to her promise, the good little fairy; for the next
time she came from the forest she brought with her a lovely
white-breasted _turtle-dove_ for Dame Dorothy.

The village children saw her on the road, and they all flocked in before
her, crying, "Good-morrow, Dame Dorothy. Oh, you are going to get such a
beautiful, _beautiful_ bird!" Then the old lady smiled at the children,
as she never had smiled for years and years.

And, as the days went by, the little garden near the great pine forest
grew fair and fragrant. The roses and the sweet woodbine clambered over
the pretty porch. The hollyhocks and the London-pride flourished once
more