And in the grove, just in a little open space where two or three trees had been cut away, was a great black rock, with ferns growing in all its cracks and crannies, and a tiny birch-tree waving like a green and white plume on its top.

And at the foot of the rock--oh, what a wonderful thing!--a slender thread of crystal water came trickling out, as cold as ice and as clear as--as itself; for nothing else could be so clear.

Bubble had made a little wooden trough to hold this fairy stream, and it gurgled along the trough and tumbled over the end of it with as much agitation and consequence as if it were the Niagara River in person.

And under the rock and beside the stream was a bank of moss and ferns most lovely to behold, most luxurious to sit upon.

On this bank sat Queen Hildegarde, with Bubble at her feet as usual; and beside her, in her chair, sat sweet Pink, looking more like a white rose than ever, with her fresh white dimity gown and her pretty hat.