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!"



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 touched it; and the pots