“She waited till she saw the white mist, and then ran all the way to the Yí, and stood still on the green bank close by the water with the white mist all round her. By and by she saw a beautiful little child come flying towards her in the white mist. The child came and stood on the green bank and looked at Alma. Very, very pretty she was; and she wore a white dress—whiter than milk, whiter than foam, and all embroidered with purple flowers; she had also white silk stockings, and scarlet shoes, bright as scarlet verbenas. Her hair was long and fluffy, and shone like gold, and round her neck she had a string of big gold beads. Then Alma said, ‘Oh, beautiful little girl, what is your name?’ to which the little girl answered:
“ ‘Niebla.’
“ ‘Will you talk to me and play with me?’ said Alma.
“ ‘Oh, no,’ said Niebla, ‘how can I play with a little girl dressed as you are and with bare feet?’
“For you know poor Alma only wore a little old frock that came down to her knees, and she had no shoes and stockings on. Then little Niebla rose up and floated away, away from the bank and down the river, and at last, when she was quite out of sight in the white mist, Alma began to cry. When it got very hot she went and sat down, still crying, under the trees; there were two very big willow-trees growing near the river. By and by the leaves rustled in the wind and the trees began talking to each other, and Alma understood everything they said.
“ ‘Is it going to rain, do you think?’ said one tree.
“ ‘Yes, I think it will—some day,’ said the other.
“ ‘There are no clouds,’ said the first tree.
“ ‘No, there are no clouds today, but there were some the day before yesterday,’ said the other.
“ ‘Have you got any nests in your branches?’ said the first tree.
“ ‘Yes, one,’ said the other. ‘It was made by a little yellow bird, and there are five speckled eggs in it.’
“Then the first tree said, ‘There is little Alma sitting in our shade; do you know why she is crying, neighbour?’
“The other tree answered, ‘Yes, it is because she has no one to play with. Little Niebla by the river refused to play with her because she is not beautifully dressed.’
“Then the first tree said, ‘Ah, she ought to go and ask the fox for some pretty clothes to wear. The fox always keeps a great store of pretty things in her hole.’
“Alma had listened to every word of this conversation. She remembered that a fox lived on the hillside not far off; for she had often seen it sitting in the sunshine with its little ones playing round it and pulling their mother’s tail in fun. So Alma got up and ran till she found the hole, and, putting her head down it, she cried out, ‘Fox! Fox!’ But the fox seemed cross, and only answered, without coming out, ‘Go away, Alma, and talk to little Niebla. I am busy getting dinner for my children and have no time to talk to you now.’
“Then Alma cried, ‘Oh, Fox, Niebla will not play with me because I have no pretty things to wear. Oh, Fox, will you give me a nice dress and shoes and stockings and a string of beads?’
“After a little while the fox came out of its hole with a big bundle done up in a red cotton handkerchief and said, ‘Here are the things, Alma, and I hope they will fit you. But you know, Alma, you really ought not to come at this time of day, for I am very busy just now cooking the dinner—an armadillo roasted and a couple of partridges stewed with rice, and a little omelette of turkeys’ eggs. I mean plovers’ eggs, of course; I never touch turkeys’ eggs.’
“Alma said she was very sorry to give so much trouble.
“ ‘Oh, never mind,’ said the fox. ‘How is your grandmother?’
“ ‘She is very well, thank you,’ said Alma, ‘but she has a bad headache.’
“ ‘I am very sorry to hear it,’ said the fox. ‘Tell her to stick two fresh dock-leaves on her temples, and to drink a little weak tea made of knotgrass, and on no account to go out in the hot sun. I should like to go and see her, only I do not like the dogs being always about the house. Give her my best respects. And now run home, Alma, and try on the things, and when you are passing this way you can bring me back the handkerchief, as I always tie my face up in it when I have the toothache.’
“Alma thanked the fox very much and ran home as fast as she could, and when the bundle was opened she found in it a beautiful white dress, embroidered with purple flowers, a pair of scarlet shoes, silk stockings, and a string of great golden beads. They all fitted her very well; and next day when the white mist was on the Yí she dressed herself in her beautiful clothes and went down to the river. By and by little Niebla came flying along, and when she saw Alma she came and kissed her and took her by the hand. All the morning they played and talked together, gathering flowers and running races over the green sward: and at last Niebla bade her goodbye and flew away, for all the white mist was floating off down the river. But every day after that Alma found her little companion by the Yí, and was very happy, for now she had someone to talk to and to play with.”
After I had finished the story Anita continued gazing into my face with an absorbed expression in her large, wistful eyes. She seemed half scared, half delighted at what she had heard; but
