Some one had stood a tin can upon a stone to catch the water--but the
water was already running over, for the can was no bigger than an egg-cup!
And where the sand upon the path was wet--there were foot-marks of a
_very_ small person.

Lucie ran on, and on.

[Illustration]

The path ended under a big rock. The grass was short and green, and there
were clothes--props cut from bracken stems, with lines of plaited rushes,
and a heap of tiny clothes pins--but no pocket-handkerchiefs!

But there was something else--a door! straight into the hill; and inside
it some one was singing--

"Lily-white and clean, oh!
With little frills between, oh!
Smooth and hot--red rusty spot
Never here be seen, oh!"

[Illustration]

Lucie, knocked--once--twice, and interrupted the song. A little frightened
voice called out "Who's that?"

Lucie opened the door: and what do you think there was inside the hill?--a
nice clean kitchen with a flagged floor and wooden beams--just like any
other farm kitchen. Only the ceiling was so low that Lucie's head nearly