"Goody gracious! where am I now?" said little Ruth.
"Yes, my dear, that's my name," said the little old woman, dropping a
low courtesy, and then spinning round two or three times, and squatting
down suddenly, so as to make what you call a cheese.
"Why, you don't mean to say that's your real name," whispered little
Ruth.
"To be sure it is! just as much as-- And pray, my little creature,
what's your name?"
"Mine! O, my name is Ruth Page, _only_ Ruth Page." And up she jumped,
and spun round among the strawberries and flowers, and tried to make a
courtesy like the little old woman, and then they both burst out
a-laughing together.
"Well," said Goody Gracious, "you're a nice, good-natured, funny little
thing, I'll say that for you, as ever I happened to meet with; but
haven't you another and a prettier name, hey?"
"Why, sometimes they call me little Teenty-Tawnty," said Ruth.
"Fiddle-de-dee, I don't like that name any better than the other: we
must give you a new name," said the little old woman; "but first tell
me,"--and she grew very serious, and her little sharp eyes changed
color,--"first tell me how you happened to be here, in the very heart of
Fairy-land, with nobody to take care of you, and not so much as a wasp
or a bumble-bee to watch over you when you are asleep.
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