THE FUNGUS FAIRY

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 164, 1 October 1927, Page 27 (Supplement)

THE FUNGUS FAIRY

Fay was lost! She was not quite sure how she had got lost, nor did she remember the way she had come into the wood. It really had happened in this way: Early in the afternoon she had come to pick spring flowers at the edge of the wood, but somehow she had wandered further and further until she had found herself in a perfect fairy dell, carpeted with primroses and daisies. Now Fay had never seen this dell before, so that was why she looked round so quickly, and it was by looking round that she suddenly discovered she was lost. Now, to be lost is a terrible catastrophe, for had not Fay read about the poor babes in the wood who had died of cold and hunger? She decided that when she became hungry she would lie down as they had done, and the birds would cover her with leaves, then later her poor dead body would be discovered. A sob of self-pity rose from her lips. “Why, what ever is the trouble?” queried a voice suddenly. Fay glanced up, to see a small figure standing on a log. with his feet astride and his hands on his hips. “I’m lost,” she said, tearfully. “Are you a fairy?” “Yes,” said the elf, nodding his tiny head modestly; “I’m a fungus-fairy.” “Oh, how exciting,” breathed Fay, her hands clasped in delight. “No, not exciting,” corrected the elf. “Only surprising.” “Yes, only surprising.” agreed Fay. “I think it’s nice to be surprised, don’t you ?” “Well, I don’t know,” answered the fungus fairy, slowly. “It wasn’t nice when Basil Spider surprised me and nearly dined on me.” “Oh, I don’t mean nasty surprises. Haven’t you had any nice ones?” “Well,” said the other thoughtfully, “it was a nice surprise when Fairy Furigusina invited me to her party, and it was a nice surprise when Mrs. Woodmouse chose me as her servant. We fairies like working, you know. I clean out Mrs. Mouse’s house very day., and I’ll tell you a secret if you like-—Mrs. Mouse has four teeny, weeny baby mice.” “Four!” gasped Fay. “How lovely!” “Yes, and every morning I bath them and brush their little coats, though they haven’t got much hair, as they are so young. Their mummy ” “Oh, I wonder if I’ll ever see my mummy again?” interrupted Fay dismally. “Why shouldn’t you?” questioned the Fungus Fairy in surprise. “I'm lost, you see,** explained Fa}’. “I expect I shall die soon.” “Nonsense,” laughed her little friend. “Why, I'll soon show you the way home. See, I’ll jump on to your shoulder and direct you.’ So saying, he leaped up nimbly, balanced himself on Fay’s shoulder, and, after ten minutes’ smart walking Fay found herself in her own garden once more. “Thank you,” she began, but when she turned her head, the Fungus Fairy had vanished. —Jessie Milne (aged 13). The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of night, a feather is wafted downwards From an eagle in its flight.