Laddie | Page 8

every
shell, leaf, bird, and flower I asked about. I was just as much his when
pretty young girls were around, and the house full of company, as when
we were alone. That was the reason I was shivering on the cordwood,
gripping his letter and thinking of all these things in order to force
myself to go farther.
I was excited about the Fairies too. I often had close chances of seeing
them, but I always just missed. Now here was Laddie writing letters
and expecting answers; our Big Woods Enchanted, a Magic Carpet and
the Queen's daughter becoming our size so she could speak with him.
No doubt the Queen had her grow big as Shelley, when she sent her on
an errand to tell Laddie about how to make sunshine; because she was
afraid if she went her real size he would accidentally step on her, he
was so dreadfully big.
Or maybe her voice was so fine he could not hear what she said. He
had told me I was to hurry, and I had gone as fast as I could until
Something jumped; since, I had been settled on that cordwood like
Robinson Crusoe on his desert island. I had to get down some time; I
might as well start.
I gripped the letter, slid to the ground, and ran toward the big gate

straight before me. I climbed it, clutched the note again, and ran blindly
down the road through the forest toward the creek. I could hurry there.
On either side of it I could not have run ten steps at a time. The big
trees reached so high above me it seemed as if they would push through
the floor of Heaven. I tried to shut my ears and run so fast I couldn't
hear a sound, and so going, I soon came to the creek bank. There I
turned to my right and went slower, watching for the pawpaw thicket.
On leaving the road I thought I would have to crawl over logs and
make my way; but there seemed to be kind of a path not very plain, but
travelled enough to follow. It led straight to the thicket. At the edge I
stopped to look for the beech. It could be reached in one breathless
dash, but there seemed to be a green enclosure, so I walked around until
I found an entrance. Once there I was so amazed I stood and stared. I
was half indignant too.
Laddie hadn't done a thing but make an exact copy of my playhouse
under the biggest maiden's-blush in our orchard. He used the immense
beech for one corner, where I had the apple tree. His Magic Carpet was
woolly-dog moss, and all the magic about it, was that on the damp
woods floor, in the deep shade, the moss had taken root and was
growing as if it always had been there. He had been able to cut and
stick much larger willow sprouts for his walls than I could, and in the
wet black mould they didn't look as if they ever had wilted. They were
so fresh and green, no doubt they had taken root and were growing.
Where I had a low bench under my tree, he had used a log; but he had
hewed the top flat, and made a moss cover. In each corner he had set a
fern as high as my head. On either side of the entrance he had planted a
cluster of cardinal flower that was in full bloom, and around the walls
in a few places thrifty bunches of Oswego tea and foxfire, that I would
have walked miles to secure for my wild garden under the Bartlett pear
tree. It was so beautiful it took my breath away.
"If the Queen's daughter doesn't like this," I said softly, "she'll have to
go to Heaven before she finds anything better, for there can't be another
place on earth so pretty."
It was wonderful how the sound of my own voice gave me courage,

even if it did seem a little strange. So I hurried to the beech, knelt and
slipped the letter in the box, and put back the bark and stone. Laddie
had said that nothing could hurt me while I had the letter, so my
protection was gone as soon as it left my hands.
There was nothing but my feet to save me now. I thanked goodness I
was a fine runner, and started for the pawpaw thicket. Once there, I
paused only one minute to see whether the way to the stream was clear,
and while standing tense and gazing, I heard something. For an instant
it was every bit as bad as at the dry creek. Then I