And when the wildwood brownies
Came sliding to her mind,
She drove them thence, as she was told,
With home thoughts sweet and kind.
But all that while the brownies
Within the fir-wood still,
They watched her how she picked the wood,
And strove to do no ill.
"And, oh, but she is small and neat,"
Said one; "'t were shame to spite
A creature so demure and meek,
A creature harmless quite!"
"Look only," said another,
"At her little gown of blue;
At her kerchief pinned about her head,
And at her little shoe!"
"Oh, but she is a comely child,"
Said a third; "and we will lay
A good-luck penny in her path,
A boon for her this day,--
Seeing she broke no living wood;
No live thing did affray!"
With that the smallest penny,
Of the finest silver ore,
Upon the dry and slippery path,
Lay Mabel's feet before.
With joy she picked the penny up,
The fairy penny good;
And with her fagots dry and brown
Went wandering from the wood.
"Now she has that," said the brownies,
"Let flax be ever so dear,
'T will buy her clothes of the very best,
For many and many a year!"
"And go now," said the grandmother,
"Since falling is the dew,
Go down unto the lonesome glen,
And milk the mother ewe!"
All down into the lonesome glen,
Through copses thick and wild,
Through moist rank grass, by trickling streams,
Went on the willing child.
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