water, and washed and rubbed her mouth and cheeks
until there was not a sign left of strawberry or blackberry stain;
others gathered fern leaves and soft grass, and washed her little feet
until they were as white as lambs' wool; and the Very Least, who had
been the one to carry her hand, now washed it with ever so many
morning-glory-blossom-fuls of water and rubbed it dry with soft clean
moss.
Other fairies curled her hair around flower stalks, while some
scattered sweet smelling blossoms about her, until there was never
such a sweet, clean, and fragrant little girl in the whole world.
And all this time she never opened her eyes. But no wonder, for if you
are ever washed by fairies while you are asleep, you will find that
you will never know it.
When all was done, and not a speck of dirt was to be seen anywhere on
little Bridget, the fairies took her gently up and carried her to her
mother's house, for they knew very well where she lived. There they
laid her down on the doorstep, where it was both warm and shady, and
they all scampered away as fast as their funny little legs could carry
them.
It was now about the right time in the morning to get up, and very
soon the front door opened and out came Aunt Ann, with a bucket on her
arm, which she was going to fill at the well for the purpose of giving
little Bridget her morning wash.
When Aunt Ann saw the little girl lying on the door step she was so
astonished that she came very near dropping the bucket.
"Well, I never!" said she, "if it isn't little Bridget, and just as
clean as a new pin! I do declare I believe the sweet innocent has
jumped out of bed early, and gone and washed and combed herself, just
to save me the trouble!"
Aunt Ann's voice was nothing like so soft and gentle as a fairy's, and
it woke up little Bridget.
"You lovely dear!" cried her Aunt, "I hadn't the least idea in the
world that you were such a smart little thing, and there is no doubt
but that you are now old enough to wash and dress yourself, and after
this you may do it!"
So, after that, Bridget washed and dressed herself, and was just as
happy as the birds, the butterflies, and flowers.
SOME NOVEL FISHING.
[Illustration]
Fishing has one great peculiarity which makes it often vastly more
interesting than hunting, gunning, or many other sports of the kind,
and that is that you never know exactly what you are going to get.
If we fish in waters known to us, we
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