Phantastes, A Faerie Romance

"Now, Pussy, be patient. You know quite well it is all for your good.

You cannot be comfortable with all those sparks in you; and, indeed, I

am charitably disposed to believe" (here he became very pompous) "that

they are the cause of all your bad temper; so we must have them all out,

every one; else we shall be reduced to the painful necessity of cutting

your claws, and pulling out your eye-teeth. Quiet! Pussy, quiet!"

But with a perfect hurricane of feline curses, the poor animal broke

loose, and dashed across the garden and through the hedge, faster than

even the fairies could follow. "Never mind, never mind, we shall find

her again; and by that time she will have laid in a fresh stock of

sparks. Hooray!" And off they set, after some new mischief.

But I will not linger to enlarge on the amusing display of these

frolicsome creatures. Their manners and habits are now so well known to

the world, having been so often described by eyewitnesses, that it would

be only indulging self-conceit, to add my account in full to the rest.

I cannot help wishing, however, that my readers could see them for

themselves. Especially do I desire that they should see the fairy of the

daisy; a little, chubby, round-eyed child, with such innocent trust in

his look! Even the most mischievous of the fairies would not tease him,

although he did not belong to their set at all, but was quite a little

country bumpkin. He wandered about alone, and looked at everything, with

his hands in his little pockets, and a white night-cap on, the darling!

He was not so beautiful as many other wild flowers I saw afterwards, but

so dear and loving in his looks and little confident ways.