ONE day late in the fall, alarge lake lay shining in the sunlight. The Sun, like a fairy godmother, was touching it with her golden wands, -- the sunbeams.
This great fairy was calling to the many little fairies in the lake to come out and enjoy themselves in the air.
At that time, there were no pretty flowers for the fairies to swing upon; the birds had flown away, and the trees had lost their leaves. To be sure, the oak still kept hers, but they were not very pretty. The great rocks stuck up through the bare earth. It would have been very dreary, if it had not been for the sunbeams.
The Sun was the little fairies' godmother, and with her wand she tapped for them to come out.
The fairies heard the tap. As they came, each one put on her light gray water-proof. Sometimes, as fairies do, they became invisible. At