So the Little Lady and the Story Teller go softly down to the spring and get a drink; then they creep across to the mossy stone wall and peer over, and there, sure enough, is a green mossy place in the shade, the very place to spread a picnic; and the Little Lady jumps and says "Oh!" for she sees something brown whisk into the bushes. Anyhow, she knows the Hollow Tree People have been there, for there is a little piece of paper on the moss which they must have used to wrap up something, and she thinks they most likely heard her coming and are just gone.
So the Story Teller lifts her over the wall, and they sit down on the green moss of the Hollow Tree picnic place, and she leans up against him and listens to the singing of the brook, and the Story Teller sings softly too, until by-and-by the Little Lady is asleep.
And it may be, as they sit there and drowse and dream, that the Hollow Tree People creep up close and watch them.
Who knows?
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Repeated chapter titles were deleted to avoid repetition for the reader.
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