Part 16

"You have my permission," answered the fairy. "I'm queen of the Forest Fays. But I thought you were looking for the Wishing Stone?"

"Maybe I was," answered Mary Louise. "You see, I thought if I could find it, I'd wish I was home with my dear mother."

"It is not very far from here," said the little fairy. "Follow this path through the trees and by and by you'll come to it. But let me give you some advice. Be sure before you make your wish to say,

"Rose red, rose white, I will try to do what's right."

"Thank you, I'll remember," answered little Mary Louise, and she turned Dapple Gray down the path to the woody glen.

Well, by and by, after a while, she saw a big white stone. It looked very like a rude stone chair, only of course, it didn't have any nice soft cushion in it like the one my grandmother used.

With a cry of joy little Mary Louise jumped from the saddle. "Now I'll make my wish!" And she sat down in the big stone chair and closed her eyes.

But, oh dear me. She had been in such a hurry that she forgot to say the little fairy verse and when she opened her eyes, there she was in the very same spot.

And, oh, dear me! again. Instead of the Dapple Gray, a little gray squirrel stood in the very spot where the little pony had been.

"If you would have what you would wish You must obey each rule, No matter whether in your home Or in your Grammar School,"

sang a little yellow bird, as Mary Louise stared in amazement at the little gray squirrel.

"Oh, dear me," she sighed, "where is Dapple Gray?"

"I was your little pony, And my name was Dapple Gray. But now I am a squirrel Because you did not say; 'Rose red, rose white, I will try to do what's right,'"

answered the little squirrel.

And then Mary Louise remembered what the little fairy had told her to say when she made the wish. Oh, dear me. How sad she felt! But it was too late, and pretty soon the little squirrel ran away, and poor Mary Louise was left alone in the big Wishing Stone chair.

"Oh dear me," she sighed again, "now what shall I do?" But nobody answered, not even the little yellow bird, so she jumped down and started off through the wood, and by and by, after a mile, but never a smile, she heard somebody laughing. And, oh my, it was a great big, tremendous hearty laugh. Why, it made all the leaves tremble and the dry twigs fall to the ground. And then, all of a sudden, a giant walked by, carrying on his big finger the prettiest yellow bird you ever saw.

"Why bless my big leather belt," he exclaimed, "it's little Mary Louise."

"Oh, Mr. Giant," said Mary Louise, "I've disobeyed the Fairy Queen and lost my pony Dapple Gray."

"Bless my big hob-nailed club," said Mr. Merry Laugh, for this was the giant's name, "how did you come to do that?"

So Mary Louise told him how the Fairy Queen had directed her to the Wishing Stone, but that she had forgotten to say when making her wish,

"Rose red, rose white, I will try to do what's right."

"Well, I'll give you another chance," said the big kind giant. "Now let me see," and he took off his big leather cap and scratched his head, and then he whispered something to the little yellow bird, but his whisper was so loud that of course Mary Louise heard it, for when a giant whispers it sounds like a man shouting, so I've been told.

"Come with me," said the giant after the little yellow bird had nodded her head, and pretty soon, not so very long, they came to his castle, where the giant made Mary Louise very comfortable in a little chair which had once belonged to his son.

"Now you rest here while I go and get out my big Gold Book," said Mr. Merry Laugh.

"Mr. Merry Laugh, the Giant, Has a big Gold Book, Bound with leather hinges And a big brass hook,"

sang the little yellow bird.

"Now let me see," said the good, kind giant, opening the book and turning over the pages with his great immense thumb. "Ah, here it is," but before he began to read he took off his spectacles which were as big as automobile lamps and wiped them carefully on his red silk handkerchief which was bigger than a sail.

"Whoever disobeys the queen Can for his guilt atone By making a little whistle Out of a turkey's bone."