sun lay on them.

The figure hiding there was Gyp, and his eyes grew brighter as he heard
the little verse.

He stirred uneasily.

Sprite, believing herself to be alone, repeated the verse with even
greater spirit than before, and as she spoke the last line, Gyp sprang
to his feet.

"I will make your wish come true," said Sprite, whereat Gyp sprang
from his hiding-place, crying:

"Oh, _will_ yer? _Will_ yer? _Are_ ye a fairy? _Kin_ yer grant my
wish?"

All the superstition of his race showed in his eager face.

Sprite seemed neither afraid nor startled, nor was she annoyed at the
interruption. For, a second she looked in gentle surprise at the boy's
dark, eager face.

Then a look of pity made her eyes very soft.

"Oh, Gyp!" she cried, "what is the wish you want granted? I'm not a
fairy, so of course I can't grant it, but,--Oh, Gyp! I'm awfully sorry.
Tell me what the wish is! Sometimes it helps to tell."

Pityingly, and more like a little woman than like the child that she