"They might be," says the Story Teller. "The Hollow Tree People slip around very softly. Anyway, they were there then, and it was the first time they had ever seen the Little Lady and the Story Teller so close. And they watched them until they were all through with their picnic and had gathered up their things. Then the 'Coon and the 'Possum and Old Black Crow slipped away again, and crept over the wall and gathered up their own things and set out for home very happy."
The Little Lady grasps the Story Teller's hand.
"Let's go and see their picnic place!" she says. "They may be there now."
So the Little Lady and the Story Teller go softly down to the spring and get a drink; then they creep across to the mossy stone wall and peer over, and there, sure enough, is a green mossy place in the shade, the very place to spread a picnic; and the Little Lady jumps and says "Oh!" for she sees something brown whisk into the bushes. Anyhow, she knows the Hollow Tree People have been there, for there is a little piece of paper on the moss which they must have used to wrap up something, and she thinks they most likely heard her coming and are just gone.
So the Story Teller lifts her over the wall, and they sit down on the green moss of the Hollow Tree picnic place, and she leans up against him and listens to the singing of the brook, and the Story Teller sings softly too, until by-and-by the Little Lady is asleep.
And it may be, as they sit there and drowse and dream, that the Hollow Tree People creep up close and watch them.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Hollow Tree Snowed-In, by Albert Bigelow Paine