threads which he spun out, never ceasing. She was so intent upon
watching him that night came down before she noticed that her room was
not furnished. There was not even a bed to sleep on.

Spin Head looked at her closely and then spoke with a deep voice, like a
man's:

"Ah, I know, you want a bed, and pretty things for your room."

In another moment, soft furs lined the floor, and soon all that Dri'-fa
had possessed in the forest for comfort she had now, and more. Lost in
wonder as she was, in a few minutes she was fast asleep.

She dreamed she wore a dress of some strange, new, white fabric, such as
her people had never seen before. Instead of being close in texture,
like the skin of an animal, it was as open work, full of thousands of
little holes, yet strongly held together. It was light and gauzy, like a
silvery spider's web on the summer grass before sunrise, when pearly
with dewdrops.

The hundred days were passing swiftly by, and Spin Head and Snow White
had become fast friends. Each lived in a different world--a world within
a world. She was waiting for the secret he would tell her. She bravely
resolved not to be impatient, but let Spin Head speak first.

One day, when autumn had come and she was lonely, she sauntered out into
the garden. The chill winds were blowing and the leaves falling, till
they covered the ground like a yellow carpet. One fell into her hand, as
if it bore words of friendly greeting. Yet, though she waited, not one
of the millions of them brought a message to her! Never a word had she