"Now Robbie, don't be silly. Do you think she is one of the dog fairies you said you saw at Arran?"
"Well, Muzzie, I did see them—there was dog-faiwiz, and faiwiz with little blue caps. Yon couldn't see them, cos you'se gwown up, but I does!"
I knew that the very best way of making Robbie cross was to doubt that he had seen fairies; for he was a strange child, and would if at all encouraged tell the quaintest tales of the "dog fairies," a mysterious class of fairy invented, I believe, by him, and the "things that came to see him at night;" for he always thought his dreams were real. Perhaps when a child is not four years old it has still some lingering remembrances of the unknown land. I think so at least, for in no other way could I account for sights that Robbie would tell me of perfectly simply and naturally. That evening I was afraid of his getting excited and lying awake, for he was never a very sound sleeper; so, waiving the question of the "dog fairies," I asked him how it was that I saw this little girl, because, as he well knew, I was grown-up and never saw fairies. He considered this for some time, and then said solemnly that I wasn't so big and grown-up as some people, so that I could see a very big fairy like the one in question, but everybody couldn't see her, he knew, because he'd asked them.
My interest in the mysterious child was heightened by Robbie's quaint fancy; and I asked with a certain degree of eagerness if the other children on the ship saw her.
"No," said Robbie, looking rather puzzled; "not even Mab; and she does tell such nice stowiz—she ought to see faiwiz."
"Are you sure Mab doesn't see her, dear?"
"Kite sure, 'cos to-day she was talking to me, and the little girl faiwy came and stood close next her, and I said, 'Go 'way,' and Mab said, 'Who is you talking to?'"
"Perhaps Mab didn't look at the little girl," I suggested. "Oh, yes! she did, Muzzie. She looked wight at her." I was getting anxious to change the conversation without letting the child know I thought his news strange.
"It is so late, Robbie, dear—do shut your eyes like a good boy, and see if tomorrow morning doesn't come very quickly."
"I'se so sleepy," said Robbie, nestling his round brown head well into the pillow; "but, Muzzie do tell the faiwy girl not to come here when it's nights."
