understand the liquid music of the waves, the strange language of the fishes, that glided to and fro above them like golden birds in a blue sky; telling her sweet stories of a water-spirit's life in river, lake, and sea; rocking her in a rosy shell; feeding her on delicate food; and leading her up and down the weedy bottom of the marble basin, where little red crabs, water-spiders, sea-anemones, and odd shell-fish enjoyed themselves among the pebbles and coral branches lying here and there.
So busy was Blush that she did forget herself, for the first time in many days,—forgot her loss, her unhappiness, and began to smile again: for though the sprite was a curious creature, with long, green hair, and little fins upon her shoulders where the elf had wings,—though she wore no clothes, and her tiny hands were damp and cold,—she had such friendly ways with her, such loving eyes, and a voice so like the ripple of quiet waves upon the shore, that Blush grew very fond of her.
When the stars came out in the evening sky, and all the dwellers in the fountain crept into their watery beds, the sprite wrapped herself in a cloak of mist, and bade Blush come with her. Up they went, and with delight the elf breathed long breaths of the balmy upper air, and warmed herself in the golden heart of a rose, where the noonday heat still lingered.
"Now," said the sprite, "you shall see my work, and bear a share, in it. Take a part of my dew-mantle about you, and fly to every flower in this long bed, brush away the dust of day, and bathe it in the drops that will continually gather on the edge of your cloak. Forget none, but refresh all, and, if any have received a hurt, touch it
