CAMPFIRE STORIES AND POEMS The Roftd to Fairyland* Do you seek the road to Fairy- land? I'll tell it's easy, quite. Wait till a yellow moon gets up O'er puiple seas by nig^t, And gilds a shining pathway That is sparkling diiunond bright. Then, if nor il power be nigh To thwart you, out of spite, And if you know the very wwds To cast a spell of might. You get upon a thistledown, And, if the breeze is right, You sail away to Fairyland Along this track of light. The Faiiy Lamps* There was once a little bare-legged brown-limbed boy who spent all his time in the woods. He loved the woods and all that was in them. He. used to look, not at the flowers, but deep dowTi into them, and not at the singing bird, but into its eyes, to its little heart; and so he got an insight better than most others, and he quite gave up collecting birds' eggs. But the woods were full of mysteries. He used to hear little bursts of song, and when he came to the place he could find no
- See Footnote p. io6.
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