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When she pulled her feet back into the boat she found them covered with dimples. She did n't know what to make of these phenomena until the Dream-Fairies explained to her that a dimple always remains where a moonbeam tickles a little child. A dimple on the foot is a sure sign that one has been trailing in that beautiful silver river that leads to the Moon. By and by they got to the Moon.
Then the Dream-Fairies explained that whenever they came of an evening to bring their dreams to a little child they seated themselves on the child's eyelids and tried to rock them down. Gleam-o'-the-Murk would sit and rock upon one eyelid and Frisk-and-Glitter would sit and rock on the other.
Just fancy Sweet-One-Darling, a baby herself, undertaking the care of a lot of other little babies fresh from the garden on the other side of the Moon! "I wonder how they all came here in this Moon-Garden?" asked Sweet-One-Darling. And the Dream-Fairies told her.
I can't begin to tell you how large it was; you 'd not believe me if I did. "This is very lovely," said Sweet-One-Darling, "but where are the little babies?" "Surely you did n't suppose you 'd find any babies here!" exclaimed the Dream-Fairies. "Why, in all this bright light the babies would never, never go to sleep! Oh, no; we 'll have to look for the babies on the other side of the Moon."
"Of course we shall," said Sweet-One-Darling. "I might have guessed as much if I 'd only stopped to think." The Dream-Fairies showed Sweet-One-Darling how to get to the edge of the Moon, and when she had crawled there she held on to the edge very fast and peeped over as cautiously as if she had been a timid little mouse instead of the bravest Sweet-One-Darling in all the world.
She was very cautious and quiet, because the Dream-Fairies had told her that she must be very sure not to awaken any of the little babies, for there are no Mothers up there on the other side of the Moon, and if by any chance a little baby is awakened why, as you would easily suppose, the consequences are exceedingly embarrassing.
This was the first time I had ever heard her speak, and I did not know till then that even wee little babies talk with fairies, particularly Dream-Fairies. "Hullo, Sweet-One-Darling!" said Gleam-o'-the-Murk, for that was the name of the Dream-Fairy in the dark-gray mothzine. "And hullo from me, too!" cried Frisk-and-Glitter, the other visitor the one in the butterfly-silk suit.
As for Sweet-One-Darling, she seemed to be lost presently in the magic of the Dream-Fairies, and although she has never said a word about it to me I am quite sure that, while her dear eyelids drooped and drooped and drooped to the rocking and the singing of the Dream-Fairies, it was her lot to enjoy a confusion of all those precious things promised by her two fairy visitors.
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