"Well," said he, "the next three of you must trip me up, and I'll fall
down on the ground, and then I'll show you how to cry."
So the next three tripped him up, and Gillibloom didn't mind it in the
least, because, whatever you do in the fairy woods, it never hurts.
But he remembered that he was the teacher, and if he didn't begin to
teach he would pretty soon be no teacher at all. So he sat there on
the ground and made up a dreadful face, and wrinkled his forehead and
shut his eyes and pulled down the corners of his mouth. And then he
dipped his own moss-cup carefully into the Standing Pool, and brought
up a drop of water. And he put his fingers in it and splashed some on
his face; and it ran down his cheeks, and he said proudly: "Now I am
almost crying."
"Ho!" said the fairies, "is that all? We can do that without being
taught."
So they wrinkled up their foreheads and shut their eyes and drew down
their mouths and dipped their fingers in the moss-cups, and sprinkled
their faces, and made a bellowing noise, and they said proudly: "Now
we are almost crying, too."
Gillibloom had opened his eyes and wiped his cheeks on a bit of
everlasting petal.
"That was very good," he said, "very good indeed! To-morrow we will go
on with the second lesson.
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