"Of course. But we all like to pretend that our fairy tales are
permanent, don't we?"
"I can readily picture you chasing beetles, but I can't see you
chasing fairies at all," she asserted positively.
"Nor can I. If you chase them, they vanish. Every one knows that."
"Anyway, your orchids were fit for a fairy queen. I haven't
thanked you for them yet."
"Indeed you have. Much more than they deserve. By coming here to-
day."
"Oh, that was a point of honor. Are you going to let those lovely
purple ones wither on that prickly plant down there? Think how
much better they'd look pinned on me--if there were any one here
to see and appreciate."
If this were a hint, it failed of its aim, for, as the hermit
scuttled out from his shelter, looking not unlike some bulky
protrusive-eyed insect, secured the orchids, and returned, he
never once glanced up. Safe again in his rock-bound retreat, he
spoke:--
"'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.'"
"So you do know something of fairies and fairy lore!" she cried.
"Oh, it wasn't much more than a hundred years ago that I read my
Grimm.
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