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“Look, look, Aunt Wee! how they open, one by one, as the light shines on them! We shan’t have to wait any longer; for they get up with the sun, as you do.” As she spoke, Daisy caught a half-open lily, and drew it up, fragrant and dripping, fresh from its sleep.

“They look like a fleet of fairy ships, anchored in this quiet harbor, with sails half furled, and crews asleep. See the little sailors, in their yellow jackets, lifting up their heads as the wind blows its whistle, like a boatswain, to ‘pipe all hands.'”

Daisy laughed at Aunt Wee’s fancy, and stirred up the crew of the Water-sprite, as she called her flower, till the white sails were all set, and it was ready for a summer voyage.

“It is time we saw the fairies in blue, unless old Madam Purr deceived us. I hope we shall find one; for, though I enjoy every thing we see, I do want my elf too.”

“What is that?” cried Wee; and Daisy flew up so quickly that the boat rocked like a cradle. A slender creature, in a blue dress, with gauzy wings, darted by, and vanished among the rushes that nodded by the bank.

“Go nearer,–softly! softly!–and maybe it will fly out again. I really think it was a fairy; for I never saw any thing like it before,” whispered Daisy, much excited.

Wee rowed in among the green rushes and purple water-weeds, and out flew half-a-dozen of the blue-bodied creatures. They didn’t seem afraid, but skimmed about the boat, as if curious to see what it was; and Daisy sat, and stared with all her might. Presently one of the lovely things lit on the lily in her hand, and she held her breath to watch it. A little shadow of disappointment passed over her face as she looked; but it was gone at once, and her voice was full of delight as she said softly:

“It’s not a fairy, Aunt Wee; but it is very beautiful, with its slender blue body, its lacy wings, and bright eyes. What name does it have?”

“We call it a dragon-fly; and it could tell you a pretty little story about itself, could you understand it. In May the tiny eggs are dropped on the water, and sink to the bottom, where little creatures are born,–ugly, brown things, with six legs and no wings. They feed on water-insects, and for a long time swim about in this state. When ready, they climb up the stem of some plant, and sit in the sun till the ugly brown shells drop away, and the lovely winged creatures appear. They grow in an hour to be perfect dragon-flies, and float away to lead happy lives in the sunshine by the river.”

As if only waiting till the story was done, the dragon-fly flew off with a whirr, and darted to and fro, hunting for its breakfast, glittering splendidly as it flashed among the leaves or darted close above the water. Daisy forgot her disappointment in a minute, and went fishing for lilies; while the turtles came up to sun themselves on the rocks, the merry little tadpoles wiggled in the shallow places, and a wild duck paddled by with a brood of ducklings following in her wake.

“Oh, dear! it rains; and we can’t go fairy-hunting at all,” said Daisy next morning, as the patter on the window-pane woke her up, and Aunt Wee came in to dress her.

“Yes, we can, dear; jump up, and see what a funny place I’ll take you to.”

Daisy thought the rain would be a capital excuse for lying in bed; for she still liked to cuddle and drowse in her cosey, warm nest. But she was curious to know where the curious place was; so she got up and followed.

“Why, Aunt Wee, this is the garret; and there isn’t any thing nice or funny here,” she said, as they climbed the stairs, and came into the big attic, filled with all manner of old things.