“Oh,” gasped Mary Frances, “what is that, dear teacher?”
“That,” said Sewing Bird, shaking her wings, “is a model for you to follow in making,
Cut a piece of canvas twelve inches by nine inches, and follow as exactly as you can the picture on the next page.
“Won’t it be beautiful!” exclaimed Mary Frances, “I’ll do it in all the pretty colors―I have almost every shade of mercerized working-cotton here.”
[Illustration: She pulled out a long sheet of paper]
“Your Grandma took a prize At Persimmon County Fair, With a pretty sampler Like the picture lying there; If you work yours aright, ’Twill be a prettier thing, That well may win a prize, From our merry Thimble King.”
[Illustration: When Mary Frances opened her eyes]
“All right!” laughed Mary Frances. “I’ll work from time to time on the Grand Sampler. But, Sewing Bird, will you tell me, please―are you―aren’t you, a real fairy? You seem so like a fairy ‘come true!’”
“Dear little Miss, I’ll give you A secret to keep. Put your hand over your eyes, And don’t dare to peep! Now, you may take away your hand― Behold, a Lady from Thimble Land!”
[Illustration: The loveliest, sweetest fairy lady]
[Illustration: “Now, dear, ready for the lesson”]
When Mary Frances opened her eyes, there sat the loveliest, sweetest little fairy lady on the edge of the table in place of Sewing Bird;―only Mary Frances noticed her lips looked very much like the bill of a bird.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!” gasped Mary Frances in surprise. “Oh, really, truly, oh, me! Oh, dear! How perfectly lovely! You lovely―”
“Now, Mary Frances, dear, ready for the lesson,” smiled the little lady, in the same flute-like voice as Sewing Bird’s.
“Miss Fairy,” said Mary Frances, trembling with joy, “I will do my very best,―but, please, what may I call you?”
“Just shut your eyes, And not a word; My name you have So often heard; It’s known to But a very few, But I will show My name to you―”
When Mary Frances opened her eyes, there sat her grandmother’s sewing bird.
[Illustration: There sat her Grandmother’s sewing bird]
[Illustration: “Pen Cil,” the fairy called]
“You dear little bird,” she exclaimed. “I know now! You are the Fairy!―and I know!―the Fairy’s name is Sewing Bird!”
“Just so! Just so! Just so! Just so!” sang Sewing Bird,―
