" With the rumble of the waterfall in the distance, I slipped into sleep and dreamed of a red-haired girl holding a posy of white flowers. The words of Mr. Noyes's poem crept from the pages of my picture book and tiptoed into my mind. " Then you blow your magic vial, / Shape it like a crescent moon, / Set it up and make your trial, / Singing, 'Fairies, ah, come soon! "