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3. She stays at home while every one else in the village plays far out on the ice.

4. She sees a storm approaching.

5. She burns her cottage to alarm the people and bring them into safety.

6. She dies from exposure, but she has saved all the villagers.

IV. The Angel admits Margaret to heaven. V. She drops a straw that turns to gold and shows how great and good a deed it was to burn her house.

VI. The critic is denied admission because he has done nothing.

VII. Margaret begs for him.

VIII. His brother's bricks save him from punishment, but he may be admitted only when he has done something.

IX. He feels critical about the Angel's remark, but as he says nothing-that is at least something!

If the eldest brother had not given bricks to Margaret, she would have died of exposure long before she did; if Margaret had died earlier she could not have saved the villagers, nor could she have met the fifth brother at the gates of heaven; if she had not met the fifth brother, he would have been lost forever. So the generous eldest brother saved them all.

Does the story not seem better now that we have thought about it? Is it not worth reading again?

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High on the hilltop

The old king sits;

He is now so old and gray
He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist

Columbkill he crosses,

On his stately journeys

From Slieveleague to Rosses;

Or going up with musie

On cold, stormy nights,

To sup with the queen

Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again,
Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back
Between the night and morrow;
They thought that she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since,
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag leaves,
Watching till she wake.

By the craggy hillside,
Thro' the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees,
For pleasure here and there.

Is any man so daring

As dig them up in spite,

He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the dusky glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men.
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

A long time ago even the grown people believed in fairies, and told wonderful tales of what the little beings could do. Gradually, as people became

better educated, they grew to know that there really were no fairies, but still they made stories about them for their children, for they had found out that there were few things in the world that children like better to hear about. Some of the stories in this book, such as Cinderella, were written far back in the days when all people still believed in fairies. To-day, there are in most countries many of the uneducated peasant classes who still have a strong belief in the "little people," and who see signs of their activity all about.

When people of different nations think about fairies they have somewhat different pictures before their eyes. Thus in Russia, where it is cold so much of the time, fairies are supposed to be dressed always in furs-beautiful white furs which only an emperor could afford. The Chinese fairy has a queue, and the fairies of India, where the learned Brahmins are the class most looked up to, are thought of as little old men, wise beyond words, but not bright and friendly like the fairies that we hear most about.

Of course these fairies that we have heard most about are the English fairies, and very beautiful and charming creatures these are. Usually they look like very small and particularly graceful human beings, with gorgeous clothing and shimmering wings, though of course, being fairies, they may change their forms and look like anything they choose. These little creatures live in a place called Fairyland, where all things are done by magic; but they do not always stay there. In fine weather, especially during the nights of summer, the fairies prefer the earth to their own country, and they gather in great numbers in some flowery field or

wood and revel all night long. On moonlight nights they need no lights in the fields, but within the woods it is always dark, and they are forced to use fireflies as lanterns.

Sometimes, in a grassy meadow or pasture, there appears a very green, fresh circle, with a ring bare of grass about it; and to this day people call such a spot a fairy ring, though they know now, as they did not know when the name was given, that the bare ring is not formed by the feet of the fairies dancing in circle. Some of the gorgeous kinds of mushrooms, too, are known as fairy tables.

But the fairies are not supposed to spend all their time in dancing and playing; they take, often, a great part in the lives of human beings. Many of the fairies are good, and are of much help to the people who please them, slipping into their houses by night and doing, in a few hours, work which without them could not be accomplished in days; but some fairies are mischievous and tricky; and even malicious, and delight in doing things to spite and to injure people. Sometimes they overturn or take for themselves food that has been saved; sometimes they turn sour the cream that the housewife intends to use for butter on the morrow; sometimes they undo all the work that a seamstress or a shoemaker has done during the day. If a man can only find out what these mischievous little people like best, he can buy their good will by placing such things where the fairies can readily find them.

Besides the true fairies, there are supposed to be many other kinds of sprites, who are sometimes invisible, but who can appear when they wish. The dwarfs, or gnomes, usually dwell underground,

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