loudly in a morning, who can be sullen? Certainly not little girls full of life and expectation. But the thought of the fillagree box by degrees took possession of her mind and rankled there as before. She too had a Governess, and many lessons to learn and much to do, and she did them; but neither English history nor French fairy tales could quite drive away the fillagree box. Indeed it introduced its horrid face before her into the midst of a multiplication sum, and Mademoiselle thought she was bewitched to have grown so stupid over her arithmetic all at once. She spent a half hour over that one sum, and when it was done she was so much tired she gave up lessons for the day. Besides, she had to prepare for her friends. She went into her boudoir, opened her cabinets and unfolded her treasures of various sorts—oh I can't tell you what beautiful things! besides interesting collections of foreign and English shells, and stuffed humming birds, which you and I should be charmed to possess. And Julia was in general most happy when she was looking over her property, but rather more because she possessed valuable curiosities than because she cared about them, I fear. For my part, I wonder very much that the humming birds and shells did not teach her to be more humble-minded; for no art or jewellery can imitate or come up to their glorious beauty. Well, she amused herself tolerably in spite of the visions of the fillagree box and the queen's hair, which now and then came between her and her usual feeling of self-satisfaction.

Presently her young friends came—several little girls of various ages, and now nature once more revived in poor Julia. The children felt and expressed such hearty pleasure at the sight of her treasures. There were such joyous exclamations; such bursts of delight; such springing and jumping about, that Julia became infected with the general pleasure, and was a happy child herself. Yes! even though the fillagree box had been shown off and admired. But what do children in general know about the value of things and how much they cost? Ah, much more just in their judgments than we elders are apt to be, a bird of Paradise such as adorned the top of Julia's cabinet, or a peacock's tail, such as she had in a drawer, is to their unprejudiced eyes more desirable than the gold of Ophir itself!

So now you see this triumph of simplicity over art, despoiled the fillagree box of all its horrors, for the innocent children admired her shells yet more—unsophisticated, and insensible to the long story about the value of the rubies, the maid of honour, and even the queen's hairs.

Still the Fairies felt and saw that it was not Euphrosyne's gift, but rather the forgetfulness of it which caused these hours of happiness to Julia, and somewhat puzzled as to the result they left the votary of riches, not quite without a sensation that little Aglaia's proposal of moderate health and enough riches to be "comfortable without being puzzled," was about the best thing after all, though not much of a Fairy gift. And now, my little readers, I am beginning to get rather tired of my story, and to feel that you may do so too. I think I am getting rather prosy, so I must try and cut the matter short. Four out of the five Fairy gifts were like beauty and riches, worldly advantages. For instance, there was the little girl who was to have every earthly pleasure at her feet—i.e. she was to have every thing she wished for—why she was fifty times worse off than either Aurora or Julia, for I will tell you whom she was like. She was like the fisherman's wife in Grimm's German popular fairy tales, who had every thing she wished, and so at last wished to be king of the sun and moon. I doubt not you remember her well, and how she was in consequence sent back to her mud cottage. I think, therefore, I need not describe the young lady who had that Fairy gift.

There was another who was to be loved wherever she went; but nothing is worth having that is had so easily, and this child got so sick of being kissed and fondled and loved, that it was the greatest nuisance to her possible, for disagreeable people loved her just as much as nice ones, and for her part she hated them all alike. It was a very silly Fairy gift.

Come with me then to Ambrosia's God-daughter, whom they visited last, and whose Fairy gift the other Fairies were to guess at!

Neither you nor I, my dears, ever heard a fairy-laugh. Doubtless it is a sweet and musical sound. You can perhaps fancy it? Well then, do fancy it, and how it rang in silver peals when our fairy friends, on entering the last nursery they had to visit, found Ambrosia's protégée in a flood of angry tears, stamping her foot on the ground in a passion! "You naughty naughty girl!" exclaimed the old Nurse, "you'll wake the baby and make your own eyes so red you won't be fit to be seen to night by the company!"

"I don't care about my eyes being red, tho' I don't want to wake the poor baby," sobbed the little girl, slightly softening her wrath: "but the cat has unravelled all the stocking I have been knitting at for so many days, and I had nearly just finished it, and now it's all spoilt;" and she roared with vexation. "Miss Hermione, if you go on so I shall certainly send for your Mamma, and the baby will be quite poorly, he will! and we shall know who made him so," added Nurse triumphantly. "I can't make the baby poorly with crying, Nurse, so that's nonsense you know," observed Hermione; "but I didn't mean to disturb him; only my stocking is gone, and I don't know what to do." And here she sobbed afresh.

"Do! why ain't you going down to the ladies, and can't you be brushing your hair and washing your face and getting ready?" "But it isn't time." "Well, but can't you get ready before the time a little? and then, when you're dressed and look so clean and nice and pretty, you can sit in the chair and we can look at you!" and here the good old Nurse gave a knowing smile and nodded her head.

Hermione caught sight of the comical coaxing glance, and, in spite of her misfortune, burst into a fit of laughter. "Hum, hum, hum! now you'll wake the poor thing by laughing, Miss Hermione. I do wish you'd be quiet:" and here the Nurse rocked the child on her knee more vigorously than ever.

"Then why don't you tell me what I am to do with my stocking," cried Hermione. "Oh well, I know what I will do—something quite as quiet as a mouse. I will wind up my poor worsted." Hereupon the little girl picked up the puckered remains of her luckless grey stocking which a facetious young cat had spent at least a quarter of an hour in ingeniously unravelling with his claws. It was a tiresome tedious job we must admit, and required a strong effort of patient perseverance, but Hermione soon became engrossed in its difficulties and a dead silence ensued. At last Nurse who had while rocking the sleeping baby on her knee, been watching the child's proceedings, suddenly exclaimed, "Well to be sure, Miss Hermione, you have such patience as I never before did see."

[The Fairies exchanged glances.

"It is Patience, Ambrosia."

"What a hurry you are in!" was the reply.]

"No I haven't, Nurse, indeed," answered Hermione. "I had no patience at all when I was in a passion with the cat just now."

"Well, I suppose there are two or three sorts of Patiences, Miss, then," persisted Nurse, "for I'm certain you have some sorts. But, dear me, its ever so much past six o'clock, and you have to be dressed by half-past. Do put away the worsted and get yourself ready, Miss, and call Jane to help you."

Here the Nurse and Hermione nearly had a scuffle over the worsted. Hermione declared the cat had spoilt her stocking; and the only comfort left to her now was to roll it comfortably up into a ball. Nurse on the contrary insisted that it didn't signify a bit what became of the worsted; she must dress and go down. The dispute ended by Hermione running off with the half finished ball and its untidy remains, and cramming the whole concern into