THE WHISPERING FAIRIES.
It chanced the glen a fairy play essayed,
The children like those fairies to be dressed,
And Elsie’s nimble fingers took no rest
’Till brown silk bonnets she had deftly made
And on the parlour table safely laid.
That night the waking household was distressed
By whispering sounds within the chimney breast,
Nor till cock-crowing daylight were they stayed.
They fired the chimney, set the traps, but still
Night after night the wistful sounds were heard—
It was no windy draught, or mouse, or bird
Disturbed our neighbours in the quiet gill,
But—when they took the bonnets right away
The whispering ceased—that’s all I have to say.
