"
By this time the moon had risen and had flooded the moor with light. Like
a flight of busy buzzing bees the little people went flitting up and
down. They pulled the gossamer from the gorse bushes and wove it into the
finest silk; they caught the great brown moths and sheared their soft fur
and spun it on the daintiest little spinning-wheels in the world; and
with skilful touches they wove together the harebells and the wild rose
petals into the most wonderful of embroidered gowns. The tears which
Ginnifer had shed in her sorrow lay shining among the grass, and gathered
up by magic fingers they turned into pearls and diamonds fit for a queen.
The gorse flowers became golden ornaments, and the little smooth pebbles
in the brook changed into pieces of silver money.
The pixies dressed Ginnifer in the softest of the gossamer silk robes,
they clasped the golden bracelets round her arms and twisted diamonds
into her hair.
"Now she is a fairy princess," they said. "There is none lovelier in all
Elfland.
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