_What the Fairies Thought_
Puck was sitting on top of his favourite toadstool, balancing a blade
of grass on his nose. The fairies were watching him do one trick after
another with delight. He wasn't the least bit cross now.
"_Ker-ek!_" croaked the old frog. "You make me dizzy."
"Are you there still?" said Puck, turning a somersault on to the ground.
"I thought your cold was no better."
"I haven't got a cold," grumbled the frog. "I haven't _always_ got a cold.
Sometimes it's a cold, sometimes it's not."
"Well," said Puck, "you see, he came to our party after all."
But the old frog didn't answer. He made all kinds of queer noises, blew
himself out like a balloon, and really frightened the fairies. They ran
as fast as they could with dewdrops and honey-balls--their medicine, you
know--to help him.
"I'm all right!" he gasped. "I'm all right. I was only laughing."
This was too much for the fairies. They laughed and laughed until they
were tired, for who had ever heard of an old frog laughing?
"What were you laughing at?" Puck asked.
"Why, at _you_, of course!" replied the old frog. "Your party was
delightful. It quite cured my cold. And that boy of yours, George Henry,
is a nice little boy. I'll teach him to swim one day."
This was quite a long speech for the old frog, and he was quite hoarse for
two days after it.
Puck stood up on a tall thistle and bowed solemnly. "Listen!" he said.
"George Henry is a wonder-child. I said he was, and so he is. If he hadn't
had a large piece of fairyness in him he would never, _never_ have come to
the party at all. His great-great-great-grandmother, you know, was quite
half a fairy. And his mother makes up stories about us in her head. I knew
I was right!"
"You _are_ clever!" cried the fairies in chorus.
"Am I not a clever Puck?" he cried, turning head over heels. "Clever,
clever, clever!" And he danced round and round the old frog with all the
fairies after him.
* * * * *
Well, that's a good thing! All the fairies understand that George Henry
is a kind of a fairy, and quite believe that in time he will grow more
and more like one, although the storks "_Pooh, pooh!_" whenever they hear
this, and ask: "What about us? He's _our_ boy!"
George is growing up fast, and will soon be a man--and yet that's not
really true, for he's not a man at all, but just George.
Alexander said one day--but you will have to wait until another time to
hear that!
[Illustration]
THE FAIRY GIFTS
Now take hands, and dance and sing
Round and round the fairy ring.
Sing and dance with mirth and joy,
George, he is a fairy boy!
Gifts we gave him. What were they?
Happiness the livelong day;
Happiness and heart's delight
Was the gift of every sprite.
Better far than sacks of wealth
Were our gifts of youth and health.
Health to keep him young and gay
Was the gift of every fay.
Gifts we gave him from our store;
Yet again we gave one more.
"Live for others, not yourself,"
Was the gift of every elf.
And the last, and quite the best,
Better far than all the rest,
This he learned on fairy ground:
"'Tis Love that makes the world go round!"