fairy, or else they're frightened at your coming so near.

I walked on sadly enough, you may be sure. However, I comforted myself
with thinking, "It's been a very wonderful afternoon, so far; I'll just
go quietly on and look about me, and I shouldn't wonder if I come
across another fairy somewhere."

Peering about in this way, I happened to notice a plant with rounded
leaves, and with queer little holes cut out in the middle of several of
them. "Ah! the leaf-cutter bee," I carelessly remarked; you know I am
very learned in natural history (for instance, I can always tell
kittens from chickens at one glance); and I was passing on, when a
sudden thought made me stoop down and examine the leaves more
carefully.

Then a little thrill of delight ran through me, for I noticed that the
holes were all arranged so as to form letters; there were three leaves
side by side, with "B," "R" and "U" marked on them, and after some
search I found two more, which contained an "N" and an "O."

By this time the "eerie" feeling had all come back again, and I
suddenly observed that no crickets were chirping; so I felt quite sure
that "Bruno" was a fairy, and that he was somewhere very near.

And so indeed he was--so near that I had very nearly walked over him
without seeing him; which would have been dreadful, always supposing
that fairies _can_ be walked over; my own belief is that they are
something of the nature of will-o'-the-wisps, and there's no walking
over _them_.