GOLDILOCKS.
173
"It is pleasant to see any thing smile, even a flower," said Goldilocks, laughing as she spoke.
"I think," replied Despard, "that this is a strange pilgrimage. I believe our very thoughts are alive. I wish I could stop thinking."
By and by they came to a rude house,—as fine a one, though, as people in the Silver Age had yet learned how to build. Despard paused, and knocked gently. "Why linger here?" whispered his sister.
"I know not," sighed the boy, "but so must I do."
"How now, little ones? you startled me so!" cried a woman, opening the door by the width of a crack.
"Let us come in," said Despard, sorrowfully; "we are two little wanderers; and our hairs are wet with night-dews."
