Smarting with pain the girl turned toward her home.  Her little feet moved wearily, and the empty pail hung loosely on her arm.  That night she cried herself to sleep in mother’s arms, but the pretty red sash was never worn by Alice, except sometimes in her dreams.

THE LOST COMB.

One day while Lesa was picking flowers in the wood the beautiful golden comb that she always wore fell out of her hair and was lost.  She searched and she searched, but she could not find it.  At last she began to cry, and she cried and she cried.

Just then along came Rollicking Robin.

“Oh, do help me, Rollicking Robin!” sobbed Lesa.  “I have lost my comb, my golden comb.  What shall I do?  My mother will fret, my father will scold, my little sister will cry, and some harm will surely come to me if I do not find it.”

“Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up!  I’ll go seek it.” sang Rollicking Robin, “I will find your golden comb, have no fear.”

So he looked and he looked and he looked, but no comb could he find.

Just then along came Busy Bee.

“Oh, do help me, Busy Bee!” sobbed Lesa.  “I have lost my comb, my golden comb.  What shall I do?  My mother will fret, my father will scold, my little sister will cry, and some harm will surely come to me if I do not find it.”

“Buzz, buzz, buzz!  I’ll go seek it,” hummed Busy Bee.  “I will find your golden comb, have no fear.”

So she looked and she looked and she looked, but no comb could she find.

Just then along came Fleet-footed Field Mouse.

“Oh, do help me, Fleet-footed Field Mouse!” sobbed Lesa.  “I have lost my comb, my golden comb.  What shall I do?  My mother will fret, my father will scold, my little sister will cry, and some harm will surely come to me if I do not find it.”

“Eep, eep, eep!  I’ll go seek it,” squeaked Fleet-footed Field Mouse.  “I will find your golden comb, have no fear.”

So he looked and he looked and he looked, but no comb could he find.

Just then along came Chirping Cricket.

“Oh, do help me, Chirping Cricket!” sobbed Lesa.  “I have lost my comb, my golden comb.  What shall I do?  My mother will fret, my father will scold, my little sister will cry, and some harm will surely come to me if I do not find it.”

“Chirp, chirp, chirp!  I’ll go seek it,” piped Chirping Cricket.  “I will find your golden comb, have no fear.”

So he looked and he looked and he looked, but no comb could he find.

Just then along came Gliding Brown Snake.

“Oh, do help me, Gliding Brown Snake!” sobbed Lesa.  “I have lost my comb, my golden comb.  What shall I do?  My mother will fret, my father will scold, my little sister will cry, and some harm will surely come to me if I do not find it.”

“Sssssssss!  I’ll go seek it,” hissed Gliding Brown Snake.  “I will find your golden comb, have no fear.”