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“Oh, dear,” sighed Mary Louise, “I wish I were home. Mother will be dreadfully worried about me.

“Oh, if I had a Wishing Stone
I know what I would do
I’d wish for lots of lovely things,
And give a lot to you.
But, Oh, dear me. I’ve never known
Where is this wonder Wishing Stone.”

“I know,” cried a little voice, and then, of course, Mary Louise looked all around to see who had spoken, but she couldn’t see anybody.

“Who are you?” she asked, halting Dapple Gray on the edge of a big forest.

“Here I am,” cried the same little voice, and then, quick as a wink, a tiny fairy jumped out from behind a bush.

“Don’t frighten my pony,” said Mary Louise, as Dapple Gray stood up straight on his hind legs, “he isn’t used to fairies.”

“No, indeed,” whinnied the pony, for that is the way a horse talks, you know. “I’ve met lots of people in dear Old Mother Goose Land, but never a fairy.”

“If you come into this forest you will meet many little people like me,” answered the fairy.

“Will they object if I travel through it?” asked little Mary Louise anxiously. “You see, I’m on my way home.”

“You have my permission,” answered the fairy. “I’m queen of the Forest Fays. But I thought you were looking for the Wishing Stone?”

“Maybe I was,” answered Mary Louise. “You see, I thought if I could find it, I’d wish I was home with my dear mother.”

“It is not very far from here,” said the little fairy. “Follow this path through the trees and by and by you’ll come to it. But let me give you some advice. Be sure before you make your wish to say,

“Rose red, rose white,
I will try to do what’s right.”

“Thank you, I’ll remember,” answered little Mary Louise, and she turned Dapple Gray down the path to the woody glen.

Well, by and by, after a while, she saw a big white stone. It looked very like a rude stone chair, only of course, it didn’t have any nice soft cushion in it like the one my grandmother used.

With a cry of joy little Mary Louise jumped from the saddle. “Now I’ll make my wish!” And she sat down in the big stone chair and closed her eyes.

But, oh dear me. She had been in such a hurry that she forgot to say the little fairy verse and when she opened her eyes, there she was in the very same spot.

And, oh, dear me! again. Instead of the Dapple Gray, a little gray squirrel stood in the very spot where the little pony had been.

“If you would have what you would wish
You must obey each rule,
No matter whether in your home
Or in your Grammar School,”

sang a little yellow bird, as Mary Louise stared in amazement at the little gray squirrel.

“Oh, dear me,” she sighed, “where is Dapple Gray?”

“I was your little pony,
And my name was Dapple Gray.
But now I am a squirrel
Because you did not say;
‘Rose red, rose white,
I will try to do what’s right,'”

answered the little squirrel.

And then Mary Louise remembered what the little fairy had told her to say when she made the wish. Oh, dear me. How sad she felt! But it was too late, and pretty soon the little squirrel ran away, and poor Mary Louise was left alone in the big Wishing Stone chair.

“Oh dear me,” she sighed again, “now what shall I do?” But nobody answered, not even the little yellow bird, so she jumped down and started off through the wood, and by and by, after a mile, but never a smile, she heard somebody laughing. And, oh my, it was a great big, tremendous hearty laugh. Why, it made all the leaves tremble and the dry twigs fall to the ground. And then, all of a sudden, a giant walked by, carrying on his big finger the prettiest yellow bird you ever saw.