And just then—­oh, in fact, right after Susie finished speaking, what should she hear but a voice singing.  Yes, a voice singing; a sweet, silvery voice, and this is what it sang.  Of course, I can’t sing this in a sweet, silvery voice, but I’ll do the best I can.  Now this is the song: 

    “If any one is seeking
        A fairy for to see,
    If they will kindly glance up
        Into this chestnut tree
    They’ll see what they are seeking,
        I’m truly telling you,
    For I’m a little fairy
        All dressed in baby-blue.”

Then, you may believe me or not, if Susie didn’t look up into the tree, and there, in a hole where the Owl school teacher once lived, was a really and truly-ruly fairy.  Honest.  Susie knew at once it was a fairy that she saw because the little creature was colored baby blue, you know, the shade they put on babies, and she had gauzy wings, with stars on them, and carried a magic wand which also had a star on it, did the little blue creature.  Still, the little rabbit girl wanted to make sure, so she asked:  “Are you a fairy?”

“I am,” replied the little creature in blue.  “Can you kindly tell me how much two and two are?”

“Four,” answered Susie.

“Is it really?”

“Of course.  You ought to know that,” spoke Susie proudly, for she was at the head of her arithmetic class.

“Ought I?” asked the fairy with a sigh.  “Well, I suppose I had, but I haven’t been to school in ever so long—­not since I was a wee bit of a child, and that’s ever and ever so many years ago, when I was no bigger than that,” and she pointed to something in the air.

“Bigger than what?” asked Susie, who didn’t see anything.

“Than that speck of star dust,” went on the blue fairy.  “It’s so small you can’t see it.  But no matter.  Because you were so kind as to tell me how much two and two are, I will give you three wishes.”

“Will you, really?” cried Susie in delight.

“Yes, three wishes, for I am a regular fairy, and that is the regular number of wishes you may have.  Some fairies only give two wishes, and some only one.  But I always give three.  Go ahead now, and wish.”

“Let me see,” thought Susie, and her nose twinkled like three stars, she was so excited.  “First I wish for a golden coach drawn by four horses.”

“Oh!” cried the fairy, “I’m so sorry, for wishes like that, though they come true, never last.  Still, you may have it,” and she waved her magic wand, and if the golden coach and four horses didn’t appear right there in the woods—­honest!  “Wish again, my dear,” went on the fairy, and this time Susie was more careful.

“I wish for ten boxes of chocolate-covered carrots,” she said, and once more the fairy said she was sorry, for that wish wouldn’t last.  Still, it came true, and down from the tree where the blue fairy sat, came tumbling the ten boxes of chocolate-covered carrots, each one wrapped up in lace paper.  Susie put them in the golden coach, and was ready for her next wish.  She thought a good long while over this one.  Then she said: