The next time that good Mabel went,
There sat a lady bright
Beside the well,--a lady small,
All clothed in green and white.
A courtesy low made Mabel,
And then she stooped to fill
Her pitcher at the sparkling spring,
But no drop did she spill.
"Thou art a handy maiden,"
The fairy lady said;
"Thou hast not spilt a drop, nor yet
The fairy spring troubled!
"And for this thing which thou hast done,
Yet mayst not understand,
I give to thee a better gift
Than houses or than land.
"Thou shalt do well whate'er thou dost,
As thou hast done this day;
Shalt have the will and power to please,
And shalt be loved alway."
Thus having said, she passed from sight,
And naught could Mabel see,
But the little bird, the sky-blue bird,
Upon the leafy tree.
"And now go," said the grandmother,
"And fetch in fagots dry;
All in the neighboring fir-wood
Beneath the trees they lie."
Away went kind, good Mabel,
Into the fir-wood near,
Where all the ground was dry and brown.
And the grass grew thin and sear.
She did not wander up and down,
Nor yet a live branch pull,
But steadily of the fallen boughs
She picked her apron full.
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