in his shoes—only he hadn't any shoes.

"I'll never even think of it again," he said. "I see my mistake. I apologize. I do indeed!"

Now what do you suppose happened at that very minute? If I hadn't been a Fairy I should have been frightened to death. At that very minute I heard little children's voices singing like skylarks farther down on the Huge Green Hill—actually little children a whole lot of them!

"It—it sounds like the Sunday School pic——" the Lion began to Say—and then he remembered he must not mention the subject and stopped short.

"Has your heart changed?" I said to him. "Are you sure it has?"

"I think it has," he said meekly, "but even if it hadn't, ma'am, I'm so full of Breakfast Food I couldn't eat a strawberry."

It happened that I had my heart glass with me—I can examine hearts with it and see if they have properly changed or not.

"Roll over on your back," I said. "I will examine your heart now."

And the little children on the Huge Green Hill side were coming nearer and nearer and laughing and singing and twittering more like skylarks than ever.

He rolled over on his back and I jumped off his ear on to his big chest. I thumped and listened and looked about until I could see his great heart and watch it beating—thub—thub—thub—thub. It actually had changed almost all over except one little corner and as the children's voices came nearer and nearer and sounded like whole nests full of skylarks let loose, even the corner was changing as fast as it could. Instead of a big ugly dark red fiery heart, it was a soft ivory white one with delicate pink spots on it.

"It has changed!" I cried out. "You are going to be a great big nice soft cozy thing, and you couldn't eat a picnic if you tried— and you will never try."

He was all in a flutter with relief when he got up and stood on his feet.

And the laughing little voices came nearer and nearer and I flew to the Cave door to see what was happening.

It was really a picnic. And goodness! how dangerous it would have been if it had not been for me. That's the way I am always saving people, you notice.

The little children in the village had grown so tired of being shut up indoors that about fifty of them who were too little to know any better had climbed out of windows, and slipped out of doors, and crawled under things, and hopped over them, and had all run away together to gather flowers and wild Peachstrawberines, and lovely big yellow Plumricots which grew thick on the bushes and in the grass on the Huge Green Hill. The delicious sweet pink and purple Ice–cream–grape–juice Melons hung in clusters on trees too high for them to reach, but they thought they would just sit down under their branches and look at them and sniff and hope one would fall.

And there they came—little plump girls and boys in white frocks and with curly heads—not the least bit afraid of anything: tumbling down and laughing and picking themselves up and laughing, and when they got near the Cave, one of my Working Fairies, just for fun, flew down and lighted on one little girl's fat hand. She jumped for joy when she saw him and called to the others and they came running and tumbling to see what she had found.

"Oh! Look—look!" she called out. "What is he! What is he! He isn't a bird—and he isn't a bee and he isn't a butterfly. He's a little teeny, weeny–weeny–weeny–weeny wee, and he has little green shoes on and little green stockings, and a little green smock and a little green hat and he's laughing and laughing."

And then a boy saw another in the