bark of the oak, and seated herself upon the topmost acorn, then gliding down an overhanging branch, dropped close by Amy's basket, behind which she laid down to rest, panting and laughing.

'Oh, do stop; do show yourself,' said Amy. 'Listen, mamma is getting quite angry; don't tease her so.' 'Oh, but isn't it fun?' said the fairy, and up she jumped, calling out in a voice the exact imitation of Amy's, Here I am, mother, here I am.' Then skipping off to a distance, cried out in the same tone, in piteous accents,-'Oh! Hubert, help me! I am sinking in a bog!' and when Hubert arrived at the spot, he could see no one, but far off, from the river side, came the voice, I'm all right now. I've found such a lovely bed of water-lilies in the river, and I am going to get one.' Then came a splash and a scream that made Mrs. Selwyn, Clara, and Hubert all rush in terror to the spot, to see nothing when they got there, and only to hear the same provoking little voice crying out, Oh! there's such a beautiful piece of mistletoe on this grand old oak. I must climb up and pick it. Hubert, come and catch it.'

'Amy,' said Mrs. Selwyn, 'this is more than I can bear. What has come to you, child? I never knew you so wild and naughty as you have been to-day. You must not attempt to climb the oak, but come immediately, and walk quietly home.'

Ha ha ha!' laughed Sylphina, appearing again

by Amy's side, 'there's a frolic! Wouldn't you like to be able to do that now?'

'No,' said Amy indignantly; 'I would not be so naughty if I could. Poor mamma! I don't like you at all; you know you ought not to do it. I'll tell Lily Fay all about you, and then she 'll turn you into a caterpillar, or a frog, or something nasty.'

'Ha! ha! ha!' laughed the sprite, 'you'll tell Lily Fay, will you? When you see her, I suppose; and when will that be? Take care, if you are rude I'll leave you stuck there, and no one will be able to find you, except your dear friends the ants.'

'I am sorry I spoke so angrily, Sylphina,' said Amy; 'I didn't mean to be rude. But, oh, please don't vex mamma any more. See, she is looking up into the tree, and how anxious she looks! I am not going to tell tales, but I am sure if Lily Fay were here, she would wish you to be good.'

As she spoke, a sudden gust of wind shook the woodbine, and one of its branches struck Sylphina a smart blow on the cheek, while another waving gently over Beauty removed the spell by which she was bound. Sylphina turned pale and trembled. 'Ah, well!' she said, 'I suppose I must leave off now. Heigho! how stupid you are not to like fun.' Again the woodbine struck her, and this time so violently that she was obliged to lay hold of it to prevent herself from falling, when immediately both she and the

woodbine vanished, and the little elf girl appeared again.

'I don't see you, Amy,' said Mrs. Selwyn; 'come down from the tree you are frightening me sadly.'

'Here I am, mamma,' said the elf child quietly, coming from behind the gorse bush. And, basket in hand, she stood before Mrs. Selwyn, looking the picture of meekness.

'What has come to you, child?' said Mrs. Selwyn, taking her hand. 'You are so changed! You are not like my little Amy of former days. What makes you so wild and wilful?'

'I don't know; perhaps I am changed,' said the child, 'for I don't like to be good, it's so dull. I love fun better than goodness. Heigho! it's a dull world, make the best of it!' Mrs. Selwyn looked grieved and puzzled, and taking the basket, which the child was swinging from side to side in a careless manner, she gave it to Clara, saying, 'Well, don't let your love of fun make you forget obedience; and now, walk quietly by me for the rest of the way home.' To walk quietly, however, seemed a perfect impossibility to the little sprite. Up and down at every instant, she was now kicking a stone before her, now jumping aside to knock down a mole-hill, and anon dragging at Mrs. Selwyn's hand as far as she could, to rush after a cockchafer. Mrs. Selwyn looked down at her several times and sighed. Poor Beauty, when she saw her

mother's sad disappointed look, felt very miserable that her mother should think it was she who was so disobedient, so wilful, so mischievous! And she could do nothing, she could not even fly to her now, with her lame wing, and as to trying to speak, she knew it was of no use, her mother could not understand her if she did.

'Well, as I can't prevent Sylphina being naughty, and can't make mamma understand it isn't me, there's no good my looking,' said Beauty; 'it only makes me unhappy.'

So she buried her head in the soft bed of moss in her sister's basket, folded her wings, and was soon fast asleep, nor did she wake till the next morning, when the rising sun, shining brilliantly into her sister's bedroom, aroused her.

was a hot night, and the door between the bedroom and the schoolroom was open, as was also the schoolroom window, leading to a veranda full of flowers.

Amy found a lace veil had been thrown over the basket to keep her captive, but she easily contrived to creep from under this light covering, and flew to her sister's bed to kiss her. In the corner of the room was her own little bed. Should she go to it? Was Sylphina there? She wished to go, but was rather afraid. Perhaps Sylphina would be awake. Did fairy children ever sleep? Perhaps she would begin her mischievous tricks again. At last her curiosity got the better of her fears, and she flew cautiously upon the curtain, peeping round the edge. She had no need to fear: the bed was empty. What a relief it was to her! there was neither child nor fairy to be