I write to the Fairies every day that way, only I use an old knife handle." She tried.

She spoiled two or three by bearing down so hard she cut the leaves.

She didn't even know enough to write on the frosty side, until she was told.

But pretty soon she got along so well she printed all over two big ones.

Then I took a stick and punched little holes and stuck a piece of foxfire bloom through.
"What makes you do that ?" she asked.
"That's the stamp," I explained.
"But it's my letter, and I didn't put it there." "Has to be there or the Fairies won't like it," I said.
"Well then, let it go," said the Princess.
I put back the bark and replaced the stone, gathered up the scattered leaves, and put the two with writing on between fresh ones.
"Now I must run," I said, "or Laddie will think the Gypsies have got me sure." "I'll go with you past the dry creek," she offered.
"You better not," I said.