“Done?” said the Principal One.  “There is only one thing to be done, and that is to wash her.  There can be no doubt about that.”

All the fairies agreed that nothing could be more sensible than to wash little Bridget, and so they gathered around her, and, with all gentleness, some of them lifted her up and carried her down towards the brook, while the others danced about her, and jumped over her, and hung on to long fern leaves, and scrambled among the bushes, and were as merry as a boxful of crickets.

When they approached the brook, one of the fairies jumped in to see if the water was warm enough, and the Principal One and the Next Biggest held a consultation, as to how little Bridget should be washed.

“Shall we just souse her in?” said the Next Biggest.

“I hardly think so,” said the Principal One.  “She may not be used to that sort of thing, and she might take cold.  It will be best just to lay her down on the bank and wash her there.”

So little Bridget, who had never opened her eyes all this time (and no wonder, for you will find, if you are ever carried by fairies while you are asleep, that they will bear you along so gently that you will never know it), was brought to the brook and laid softly down by the water’s edge.

Then all the fairies set to work in good earnest.  Some dipped clover blossoms in the water, and washed and rubbed her mouth and cheeks until there was not a sign left of strawberry or blackberry stain; others gathered fern leaves and soft grass, and washed her little feet until they were as white as lambs’ wool; and the Very Least, who had been the one to carry her hand, now washed it with ever so many morning-glory-blossom-fuls of water and rubbed it dry with soft clean moss.

Other fairies curled her hair around flower stalks, while some scattered sweet smelling blossoms about her, until there was never such a sweet, clean, and fragrant little girl in the whole world.

And all this time she never opened her eyes.  But no wonder, for if you are ever washed by fairies while you are asleep, you will find that you will never know it.

When all was done, and not a speck of dirt was to be seen anywhere on little Bridget, the fairies took her gently up and carried her to her mother’s house, for they knew very well where she lived.  There they laid her down on the doorstep, where it was both warm and shady, and they all scampered away as fast as their funny little legs could carry them.

It was now about the right time in the morning to get up, and very soon the front door opened and out came Aunt Ann, with a bucket on her arm, which she was going to fill at the well for the purpose of giving little Bridget her morning wash.

When Aunt Ann saw the little girl lying on the door step she was so astonished that she came very near dropping the bucket.

“Well, I never!” said she, “if it isn’t little Bridget, and just as clean as a new pin!  I do declare I believe the sweet innocent has jumped out of bed early, and gone and washed and combed herself, just to save me the trouble!”