“Very few, by comparison, get them.  Very few infants you know have Fairy Godmothers, but we make it a rule that those who have, shall always be distinguished from the crowd.  Other-wise our power would not be believed in.  No, my little Aglaia, all our Godchildren start from the point you spoke of—­’caeteris paribus,’ as those dingy black lawyers say—­all other things being equal—­it is a question now of bestowing extra superfine Fairy gifts.”

Aglaia tittered—­“I know Sister Euphrosyne is thinking of the christening suppers, and the whipped creams, and the syllabubs!” and away she tripped to the other end of the bay, lest the older Fairies should scold her for impertinence.

“Certainly,” pursued Euphrosyne, “I have a great contempt for riches myself.  Bah! the idea of all the troublesome as well as wicked things men do in order that they may be able to keep a lumbering thing they call a carriage, to drive them round a dirty town.  Just think of that one thing alone!  It is hardly credible.”  And Euphrosyne laid her head by the side of Leila’s, and looked up into the deep blue sky.

“Remember,” said Ambrosia, from behind, “it is a choice with poor mortals between heavy foot-walking, and the lumbering vehicles you talk of.  Perhaps when their legs ache terribly, the carriages are not such bad things.  We can hardly judge dispassionately in such a matter, we who can float and fly!” and the delicate Ambrosia, springing up, floated softly round the bay, and then returned smiling to her companions.  “It made me almost ill to think of aching legs,” observed she, “how I do pity the mortal race!”

“How pretty you looked as the sun shone golden upon your white robe,” exclaimed Leila, “It was a sight for a mortal painter to die of!”

“A genius for painting would be a grand Fairy gift,” observed Ianthe.

“Too doubtful of success,” answered Euphrosyne, “and the Musician’s power the same; besides musicians always die young and with exhausted minds.  The art is too much for mortal nerves.”

“Their atmosphere is too thick,” said Leila.  “How tired I am of your discussions!  Let us sing!  Whatever music may be to them, it is food to us.”

Then all those beautiful Fairies arose and joining hands on the rocks they sang to the now dying Sun a chorus of Fairy Land!  Now and then these ravishing melodies are permitted to reach to mortal ears:  chiefly in dreams to the sick and sorrowful, for Fairies have great compassion on such, and allow them a distant taste of this, the most exquisite of their enjoyments.

There was no more discussion that night, nor did they argue much the next morning.  There was the rising sun to welcome from the sleeping caves on the eastern side of their country, and the bath to be enjoyed, and their wings to plume, and sweet odours to gather from the early flowers; and the time passed so quickly, they only met to take a hurried leave.  “We must understand each other however, before we separate,” said Euphrosyne.