THE RAINDROP ELVES.
WAY up above the clouds and sky,
Too far to see with mortal eye,
There lives another Fairy Band
Well known to all, on sea or land.
We’ll call this tribe the Raindrop Elves
(For that is what they call themselves),
But, doing work unlike the rest,
Of course they’re differently dressed.
For, washing trees and scrubbing grass,
Or making pebbles shine like glass,
While pails and brushes lie around
With wet rags scattered over the ground,
Calls for a special style of suits,—
For overalls and rubber boots.
So, dressed like this they wait until
The Wind-God whistles long and shrill;
Which means that at their city gate
A half a dozen clouds await
To take them to the world below
As soon as they’re prepared to go.
Each Elf his big valise has packed,
Which on the cloud is piled and stacked;
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