"
With that they began their plodding through the fog.
"Yes, it was truly sharp of you, godmother," returned Miss Wren, with
great approbation, "to understand me. But, you see, you _are_ so like
the fairy godmother in the bright little books! You look so unlike the
rest of the people, and so much as if you had changed yourself into that
shape, just this moment, with some benevolent object. Bah!" cried Miss
Jenny, putting her face close to the old man's, "I can see your
features, godmother, behind the beard."
"Does the fancy go to my changing other objects, too, Jenny?"
"Ah! That it does! If you'd only borrow my stick, and tap this piece of
pavement, it would start up a coach and six. I say,--Let's believe so!"
"With all my heart," replied the good old man.
"And I'll tell you what I must ask you to do, godmother. I must ask you
to be so kind as to give my child a tap, and change him altogether. Oh,
my child has been such a bad, bad child of late! It worries me almost
out of my wits. Not done a stroke of work these ten days."
"What shall be changed after him?" asked Riah, in a compassionately
playful voice.
"Upon my word, godmother, I am afraid I must be selfish next, and get
you to set me right in the back and legs. It's a little thing to you
with your power, godmother, but it's a great deal to poor, weak,
aching me."
There was no querulous complaining in the words, but they were not the
less touching for that.
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