She waved her hand in imitation of its swift, curving flight; then, dropping it, exclaimed: "Gone--oh, little thing!" "What was it ?" I asked, for it might have been a bird, a bird-like moth, or a bee.
"Did you not see?
And you asked me to look into your eyes!" "Ah, little squirrel Sakawinki, you remind me of that!" I said, passing my arm round her waist and drawing her a little closer.

"Look into my eyes now and see if I am blind, and if there is nothing in them except an image of Rima like a small, small fly." She shook her head and laughed a little mockingly, but made no effort to escape from my arm.
"Would you like me always to do what you wish, Rima--to follow you in the woods when you say 'Come'-- to chase you round the tree to catch you, and lie down for you to throw leaves on me, and to be glad when you are glad ?" "Oh, yes." "Then let us make a compact.

I shall do everything to please you, and you must promise to do everything to please me." "Tell me." "Little things, Rima--none so hard as chasing you round a tree.

Only to have you stand or sit by me and talk will make me happy.

And to begin you must call me by my name--Abel." "Is that your name?
Oh, not your real name! Abel, Abel--what is that?
It says nothing.