it not that I could see in some places by the moonlight
that the water was still gurgling down behind the ice, just as it
usually does when cascades and waterfalls are frozen by natural cold.'

[Illustration: _Wherever the feather passed it changed the surface of
the water.--Page 302._]

'Yes,' said Phonny, 'I have watched it very often on the brook.'

'On what brook?' asked Malleville.

'On the pasture brook,' said Phonny.

Beechnut took no notice of Phonny's remark, but went on with his
narrative as follows:

'Agnes then walked back and forth upon the ice, and began to draw the
tip of her long silver feather over the branches of the trees that
overhung the basin, and over the mossy banks and the tall grass and
flowers. Everything that she touched turned into the most beautiful
frost-work. The branches of the trees were loaded with snow, the banks
hung with icicles, and the tall grass and flowers seemed to turn white
and transparent, and they glittered in the moonbeams as if they were
encrusted with diamonds. I never saw anything so resplendent and
beautiful.

'At last she looked round upon it all and said: "There, that will do. I
wonder now if the ice is strong enough."

'Then she went into the middle of the ice, and standing upon it on
tiptoe, she sprang up into the air, and then came down upon it again, as
if she were trying its strength. At the same instant she said or sung in
a beautiful silvery voice, like a bird, the word, "Peep!"

'When she had done this, she stopped for a moment to listen. I sat
perfectly still, so as not to let her know that I was near. Presently
she leaped up again twice in succession, singing, "Peep! Peep!"

'Then, after pausing a moment more, she began to dance away with the
utmost agility and grace, singing all the time a little song, the music
of which kept time with her dancing. This was the song:

'"_Peep! peep! chippeda dee,
Playing in the moonlight--nobody to see;
The boys and girls are gone away,
They've had their playtime in the day,
And now the night is left to me.
Peep! peep! chippeda dee!_"'

'That's a pretty song,' said Malleville.

'Yes,' said Beechnut, 'and you cannot imagine how beautifully she sang
it, and how gracefully she danced upon the ice while she was singing. I
was so delighted that I could not sit perfectly still, but made some
movement that caused a little rustling. Agnes stopped a moment to
listen. I was very much afraid