Produced by Chris Curnow, Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
WITH PICTURES BY HELEN ALLINGHAM, KATE GREENAWAY, CAROLINE PATERSON, AND HARRY FURNISS
CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED, LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE
_Green Hills, Blue Mountains, Rocks and Streams, Birds, Woodland, Starry-Night, Sea-Foam, Flowers, Fairies, Children, Music, Dreams, A Book, a Garden-Chair--Sweet Home!_
PAGE THE FAIRIES 15 THE ELF SINGING 18 THE FAIRY KING 20 CHORUS OF FAIRIES 23 ROBIN REDBREAST 24 AMY MARGARET 26 JINGLE JANGLE 29 DREAMING 30 I LOVE YOU, DEAR 32 SEASONS 34 THE CAT AND THE DOG 36 HERE AND THERE 37 THE BIRD 41 WISHING 42 I SAW A LITTLE BIRDIE FLY 44 A MOUNTAIN ROUND 47 THE LEPRACAUN 48 YES OR NO? 53 SLEEPING 54 A SWING SONG 56 BIRDS' NAMES 58 DOWN ON THE SHORE 60 THE BUBBLE 62 NICK SPENCE 65 AMBITION 66 THE BALL 69 RIDING 70 TOM CRICKET 72 THE YEAR OF HARDSHIPS 74 A RIDDLE 75
FRONTISPIECE: _The Bird_ HELEN ALLINGHAM. THE NEW BOOK DO. INTRODUCTION: _The Child and the Fairy_ DO. THE ELF SINGING (_Two Designs_) CAROLINE PATERSON. THE FAIRY KING HARRY FURNISS. AMY MARGARET HELEN ALLINGHAM. JINGLE JANGLE CAROLINE PATERSON. DREAMING HELEN ALLINGHAM. I LOVE YOU, DEAR DO. HERE AND THERE (_Ten Designs_) CAROLINE PATERSON. WISHING HELEN ALLINGHAM. I SAW A LITTLE BIRDIE FLY DO. THE LEPRACAUN HARRY FURNISS. YES OR NO? CAROLINE PATERSON. SLEEPING HELEN ALLINGHAM. A SWING SONG DO. THE BUBBLE KATE GREENAWAY. NICK SPENCE HELEN ALLINGHAM. AMBITION KATE GREENAWAY. THE BALL W. A. THE YEAR OF HARDSHIPS DO. A RIDDLE HELEN ALLINGHAM.
UP the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather!
Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam; Some in the reeds Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake.
High on the hill-top The old King sits; He is now so old and gray He's nigh lost his wits. With a bridge of white mist Columbkill he crosses, On his stately journeys From Slieveleague to Rosses; Or going up with music On cold starry nights, To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights.
