46 WITH CARL OF THE HILL 



But Sunlight was to live no more in the forest. She 

 had gone to the Father of all the children— the 

 Father, too, of Carl. 



The grey horse Gralle took Sunlight to her funeral. 

 It had been a very beautiful birthday, though there 

 had been no singing as in other years — none, at least, 

 that mortal ear could hear. Little Sunlight's blue 

 eyes were closed, but on her face was such a smile as 

 seemed to fill the room with light; as though she 

 caught the echo of a children's choir : 



We ivill crown her with flowers, and make her our queen. 



The little bird was there. At first the boys 

 had tried to feed it, but could not for their tears. 

 So they just put it by her hands in a fold of the 

 coverlet and there it nestled, locking with bright 

 eyes at the children as they came. For one by one 

 they came and kissed her, and, in the silence, crowned 

 her queen. 



Where Carl was no one knew — out in the forest 

 somewhere, anywhere, wrestling with his grief. 



The grey horse took Sunlight to her funeral. 

 Above Sunlight's bower the squirrel sat. He had 

 never seen so many flowers on any birthday. Every 



