ears at
parting from him. On the ground lay his kite looking quite innocent.

He went indoors, and found it was tea-time, and everything was just as
usual.

"Why, child, you are quite wet! Why did you not come in during the
shower?" he heard his mother's voice saying to him.

He found a huge walnut in his pocket and when he cracked it out crawled
a wonderful beetle with green body streaked with gold. As Walter put out
his hand to secure his treasure, it flew away from him looking very much
like King Oberon himself. Walter thought that he heard a peal of fairy
laughter, but it might have been only his fancy.

The next day was his birthday, and what do you think he had as a
present? Why the very same cart and horse that had carried him to the
castle, big enough to ride in. But he never told anyone--even his
mother--the whole story of his adventures. Perhaps he did not remember
them clearly himself; for the fairies protect their secrets well, and
draw in sleep the veil of forgetfulness over much that we have seen in
our dreams.

And did Walter become a great poet? He is a friend of mine, so I can
tell you. The world has not heard of him as yet. He tells me that he
often hears a little voice near him, singing, singing; sometimes he can
distinguish the words and the melodies. They make him feel sad at times,
he says, with longing for a world that is more beautiful than ours, but
oftener they make him feel exhilarated and happy.

He thinks that he knows many secret things that would make the world
happier if he could only get people to believe them. But these secrets
are not about high explosives or torpedoes or aeroplanes, or motor-cars
that can do the distance between Paris and Berlin at the very shortest
record. They are secrets that can only be breathed in music and poetry.

Be on the look-out for him, children; for the songs he sings will be
full of wonder, like Kubla Khan, and the melodies will be those of
fairyland. Did he not hear them himself on the Old King's Mountain, when
he attended the Midsummer fete of the fairies?

THE DRAGON'S TAIL

I wonder if the girls and boys who read these stories, have heard of the
charming and romantic town of Eisenach? I suppose not, for it is a
curious fact that few English people visit the place, though very many
Americans go there. Americans are well known to have a special interest
in old places with historical associations, because they have nothing of
the sort