VIII.
THE MOSS PEOPLE.
Come again another day,"
Sang little Marnie, as she stood at the window watching the drops patter on the pane, the elm-boughs toss in the wind, and the clover-blossoms lift up their rosy faces to be washed. But the rain did not go away, and, finding that mamma had fallen asleep over her book, Marnie said te herself,—
"I will go and play quietly with my fairy-land till mamma wakes up and cuts me some paper fairies to put in it."
Marnie's fairy-land was as pretty a plaything as any child could wish for, and, as every child can make one in the summer-time, let us tell what it was. The little girl firmly believed in elves and was always wishing she could go to fairy-land. That rainy day, when she had longed for something to do, her mother said,—
