float through the air, her feet almost motionless. Sometimes she would leap high and come down—float down—quite slowly. She seemed to have no weight at all, and a breeze would almost lift her off the ground and hold her up in the air. Indeed, when she ran with the wind behind her she would be blown along—blown like a leaf just above the flowers.
***
One day she was dancing there—dancing and leaping in the long grass, amid the blossoms. Butterflies drifted over the sunny field—butterflies of red and yellow, blue and green, black and white, orange and purple. How gracefully they flew; how delicately they alighted on the flowers; how fairy-like they were, hovering for an instant over some blossom, then dipping their wings and starting off again! Eepersip felt as though—as though she were going to be one of them; as though she were so happy that she must fly about with them, sip the honey from the flowers with them.
As she was thinking happily she heard a few faint peeps, which became louder as she danced toward a certain part of the field. Then there was a desperate twitter right at her feet, and, looking
