Bife on 



a group and stop to watch them, they may, for 

 an instant, pause to glance at you, then turn to 

 romp more merrily than before. And they have 

 other childlike ways besides bare legs and activ- 

 ity. On some summer day, if you wish to find 

 these little trees, look for them where you would 

 for your own child, wading the muddiest place 

 to be found. They like to play in the swamps, 

 and may often be seen in a line alongside a brook 

 with toes in the water, as though looking for the 

 deepest place before wading in. 



One day I came across a party of merry little 

 aspens who were in a circle around a grand old 

 pine, as though using the pine for a maypole to 

 dance around. It was in autumn, and each little 

 aspen wore its gayest colors. Some were in gowns 

 of new-made cloth-of-gold. The grizzled old pine, 

 like an old man in the autumn of his life, looked 

 down as though honored and pleased with the 

 happy little ones who seemed so full of joy. I 

 watched them for a time and went on across the 

 mountains; but I have long believed in fairies, 

 so the next day I went back to see this fairyland 

 and found the dear little aspens still shaking 



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