"Daisy and Wee,
Come here, and see
What a dainty feast is spread:
Down in the grass
Where fairies pass,
Here are berries ripe and red.
"All wet with dew,
They wait for you:
Come hither, and eat your fill,
While I gayly sing,
In my airy swing,
And the sun climbs up the hill."
"Did he really say that?" cried Daisy, watching the bob-o-link, who sat swaying up and down on the green bough, and nodding his white-capped head at her in the most friendly manner.
"Perhaps I didn't translate it rightly; for it is very hard to put bird - notes into our language, because we haven't words soft and sweet enough. But I really think there are berries over there, and we will see if what he says is true," said Wee.
Over the wall they went, and there, on a sunny bank, found a bed of the reddest, ripest berries ever seen.
"Thank you, thank you, for telling me to hurry up, and showing me such a splendid feast," said Daisy, with her mouth full, as she nodded back at the birds. "These are so much sweeter than those we buy. I'd carry some home to mamma, if I only had a basket."
