And all the choicest and sweetest of the early summer flowers seemed to be collected here in greater variety and profusion than in any other part of the wood.
"_Isn't_ it nice ?" said Phil, as he nestled down beside Griselda on the soft, mossy grass.

"It must have been a fairies' garden some time, I'm sure, and I shouldn't wonder if one of the doors into fairyland is hidden somewhere here, if only we could find it." "If only!" said Griselda.

"I don't think we shall find it, Phil; but, any way, this is a lovely place you've found, and I'd like to come here very often." Then at Phil's suggestion they set to work to make themselves a house in the centre of this fairies' garden, as he called it.

They managed it very much to their own satisfaction, by dragging some logs of wood and big stones from among the brushwood hard by, and filling the holes up with bracken and furze.
"And if the fairies _do_ come here," said Phil, "they'll be very pleased to find a house all ready, won't they ?" Then they had to gather flowers to ornament the house inside, and dry leaves and twigs all ready for a fire in one corner.

Altogether it was quite a business, I can assure you, and when it was finished they were very hot and very tired and _rather_ dirty.