Frances Elizabeth Barrow

The book, "" The Fairy Nightcaps "", has been considered important throughout the human history, and so that this work is never forgotten we have made efforts in its preservation by republishing this book in a modern format for present and future generations. This whole book has been reformatted, retyped and designed. These books are not made of scanned copies and hence the text is clear and readable.

This book has been considered by academicians and scholars of great significance and value to literature. This forms a part of the knowledge base for future generations. We havent used any OCR or photocopy to produce this book. The whole book has been typeset again to produce it without any errors or poor pictures and errant marks.

This book has been considered by academicians and scholars of great significance and value to literature. This forms a part of the knowledge base for future generations. We havent used any OCR or photocopy to produce this book. The whole book has been typeset again to produce it without any errors or poor pictures and errant marks.

This book has been considered by academicians and scholars of great significance and value to literature. This forms a part of the knowledge base for future generations. We havent used any OCR or photocopy to produce this book. The whole book has been typeset again to produce it without any errors or poor pictures and errant marks.

"The Fairy Nightcaps" from Frances Elizabeth Barrow an American author.Extract: In the deep shadow of the Highlands, at the foot of the old Crow Nest Mountain, is a wild and beautiful hollow, closed around on every side by tall trees, interlaced together by the clasping tendrils of the honeysuckle, and the giant arms of luxuriant wild grape-vines. The mossy edge of this magic circle is thickly embroidered with violets, harebells, perfumed clover-blossoms, and delicate, feathery ferns. A little brook, overhung with grasses and whispering leaves, dances and dimples in the bright sunlight and soft moonbeams, and then trips away, to offer the wild-rose leaves that have fallen upon his bosom to his beloved tributary lord, the great Hudson River. Not a bat dare spread his unclean leathern wings across this charmed place, and the very owls that wink and blink in the hollow trees near by keep their unmusical "hoot toot" to themselves. In the short young velvety grass, a starry daisy, or a sly little cowslip, peeps up here and there, but nothing else disturbs the lawn-like smoothness, save a tiny mound of green moss near the centre of the hollow, shaped marvellously like a throne.