my arms into the lake, and I saw her no more."

'That evening,' said the fisherman, 'my wife and I sat by our hearth
in silence, we were too sad for words. Suddenly the door of our
cottage flew open, and there before us,[1] on the threshold, stood a
little maiden, three or four years of age. Her eyes were blue and her
hair was gold and she was clothed in beautiful garments.

[Footnote 1: See frontispiece.]

'We gazed in wonder at the tiny vision. Who was she? From whence had
she come? Was she only a magic child come to mock us in our
loneliness, or was she a real, a living child?

'Then as we looked we saw that water trickled from her golden hair and
that little streams were gathering at her tiny feet, as the water
dripped and dripped from her beautiful clothing.

'"She must have fallen into the lake," I said to my wife, "and in some
strange way have wandered into our cottage. We have lost our own dear
child, let us now do all we can to help this little one." Thus it came
to pass that the little stranger slept in the cot in which until now
our own babe had lain.

'When morning dawned my wife fed our tiny guest with bread and milk,
and the little one looked upon us, and her blue eyes danced merrily,
but never a word did she say.

'We asked her where her father and mother dwelt and how she had come
to our cottage. But her only answer was some childish talk of crystal