Bebee

s fast as her fe

et her with shouts of welcome and reproach intermingled; they had been watching

ndor of her presents, and she showered out

lowers; the cherries and cake were spread on it; and the miller's wife had

laughed, and picked cherries from each other's mouths like little blackbirds; the big white dog gnawed a crust at their feet; old Krebs who had a fiddle, and could play it, came out and trilled them rude and ready Flemish tunes, such as Teniers or Mieris might have jumped to before an alehouse at the Kermesse; Bébée and the children joined hands, and danced round together in the broad white moonli

, homely; lovely als

ir beds, as people mus

from her own little caseme

e little child's prayer; the wind sighed among the will

the morrow, and on all th

er playmates, in her flowers, in her sixteen years, in her red shoes, in her silver buckles, because she was half a woman; happy in the dewy leaves, in the singing birds, in the hush of the nig

aid Bébée to the gleam of silver under the dark leaves by the water's side, which showed her where her friends w

id not awak

swered from the willows

of Desdemona, and the wi

sleeping world, and then she lay down and slept hers