invariably--and then they can come to life again. But Gauzita--"

"Are you quite sure she is dead?" asked Fairyfoot.

"Sure!" cried Mr. Goodfellow, in wild indignation, "why, she hasn't seen
me for a couple of years. I've moulted twice since last we met. I
congratulate myself that she didn't see me then," he added, in a lower
voice. "Of course she's dead," he added, with solemn emphasis; "as dead
as a door nail."

Just then Fairyfoot heard some enchanting sounds, faint, but clear. They
were sounds of delicate music and of tiny laughter, like the ringing of
fairy bells.

"Ah!" said Robin Goodfellow, "there they are! But it seems to me they
are rather gay, considering they have not seen me for so long. Turn into
the path."

Almost immediately they found themselves in a beautiful little dell,
filled with moonlight, and with glittering stars in the cup of every
flower; for there were thousands of dewdrops, and every dewdrop shone
like a star. There were also crowds and crowds of tiny men and women, all
beautiful, all dressed in brilliant, delicate dresses, all laughing or
dancing or feasting at the little tables, which were loaded with every
dainty the most fastidious fairy could wish for.

"Now," said Robin Goodfellow, "you shall see me sweep all before me.
Put me down."

Fairyfoot put him down, and stood and watched him while he walked forward