It was just at the dusking of the twilight; the latticed window was
opened, so that the little breezes came rushing into the room, or stayed
a while to play wantonly with the white linen curtains. The tabby cat
was purring in the door-way, and the dame was enjoying the sweetness of
the summer-time. There came a knock at the door, "Who is it?" said Dame
Margery.
"It's Tommy Lamb, if you please, ma'am," said a little voice.
"Come in, Tommy," said the dame.
So in came Tommy Lamb, a little, curly-headed fellow, not any older than
you, "What is it you want, Tommy?" said the dame.
"If you please, ma'am, there's a little gentleman outside, no taller
than I be; he gave me this box, and told me to tell you to rub your eyes
with the salve and then to come out to him."
The dame looked out of the window, but never a body stood there that she
could see. "Where is the gentleman, dearie?" said she.
"Yonder he is, with a great white horse standing beside him," said Tommy
Lamb, and he pointed with his finger as he spoke.
The dame rubbed her eyes and looked again, but never a thing did she see
but the green gate, the lilac-bushes, and the butcher's shop opposite.
The truth of the matter is, that little children like you, my dear, see
things which we grown folks, with the dust of the world in our eyes, may
never behold. "Well," said Dame Margery to herself, "this is strange,
for sure! _I_ see no little old gentleman in green.
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