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Flower Fables<= o:p>
By
Flower Fables
"Pondering shadows, colo=
rs,
clouds
Grass-buds, and caterpillar shrouds=
Boughs on which the wild bees settl=
e,
Tints that spot the violet's petal.=
"
=
=
EMERSON'S
WOOD-NOTES.
=
&nb=
sp;
TO
=
ELLEN EMERSON,
=
FOR WHOM THEY WERE FANCIED,
=
THESE FLOWER FABLES
=
ARE INSCRIBED,
=
BY
HER FRIEND,
=
&nb=
sp;
THE AUTHOR.
Boston,
Dec. 9, 1854.
Contents
THE FROST-KING&nbs=
p;
OR, THE POWER OF LOVE.
FLOWER FABLES.
THE
summer moon shone brightly down upon the sleeping earth, while far away from
mortal eyes danced the Fairy folk.
Fire-flies hung in bright clusters on the dewy leaves, that waved in=
the
cool night-wind; and the flowers stood gazing, in very wonder, at the little Elves, who lay among the fe=
rn-leaves,
swung in the vine-boughs, sai=
led on
the lake in lily cups, or danced on the mossy ground, to the music of the hare-bells, wh=
o rung
out their merriest peal in ho=
nor of
the night.
Under
the shade of a wild rose sat the Queen and her little Maids of Honor, beside the silvery
mushroom where the feast was
spread.
"Now,
my friends," said she, "to wile away the time till the bright moon goes down, let us each tell a=
tale,
or relate what we have done or
learned this day. I will begi=
n with
you, Sunny Lock," added she, turning to a lovely little Elf, who lay a=
mong
the fragrant leaves of a prim=
rose.
With
a gay smile, "Sunny Lock" began her story. "As I was painting the =
bright
petals of a blue bell, it told me this tale."
THE FROST-KING OR, T=
HE
POWER OF LOVE.
THREE
little Fairies sat in the fields eating their breakfast; each among the lea=
ves
of her favourite flower, Daisy, Primrose, and Violet, were happy as Elves n=
eed
be.
The morning wind gently rocked them=
to
and fro, and the sun shone warmly down upon the dewy grass, where butterfli=
es
spread their gay wings, and bees with their deep voices sung among the flow=
ers;
while the little birds hopped merrily about to peep at them.
On
a silvery mushroom was spread the breakfast; little cakes of flower-dust la=
y on
a broad green leaf, beside a crimson strawberry, which, with sugar from the
violet, and cream from the yellow milkweed, made a fairy meal, and their dr=
ink
was the dew from the flowers' bright leaves.
"Ah me," sighed Primrose,= throwing herself languidly back, "how warm the sun grows! give me another piece= of strawberry, and then I must h= asten away to the shadow of the ferns. But while I eat, tell = me, dear Violet, why are you all so sad? I have scarce seen a happy face since my return from Rose Land; dear friend, what means it?"<= o:p>
"I
will tell you," replied little Violet, the tears gathering in her soft eyes. "Our good Queen is ever striv=
ing to
keep the dear flowers from the power of the cruel Frost-King; many ways she tried, but all have failed.
"It is indeed a cruel thing," re=
plied
her friend; "but as we cannot help it, we must suffer patiently, and n=
ot
let the sorrows of others disturb our happiness. But, dear sisters, see you not how=
high the
sun is getting? I have my loc=
ks to
curl, and my robe to prepare for the evening; therefore I must be gone, or I
shall be brown as a withered leaf in this warm light." So, gathering a tiny mushroom for a
parasol, she flew away; Daisy soon followed, and Violet was left alone.
Then she spread the table afresh, and to it
came fearlessly the busy ant and bee, gay butterfly and bird; even the poor
blind mole and humble worm were not forgotten; and with gentle words she ga=
ve
to all, while each learned something of their kind little teacher; and the =
love
that made her own heart bright shone alike on all.
The ant and bee learned generosity, the
butterfly and bird contentment, the mole and worm confidence in the love of
others; and each went to their home better for the little time they had bee=
n with
Violet.
Evening came, and with it troops of Elves =
to
counsel their good Queen, who, seated on her mossy throne, looked anxiously
upon the throng below, whose glittering wings and rustling robes gleamed li=
ke many-colored
flowers.
At length she rose, and amid the deep sile=
nce
spoke thus:-- "Dear chil=
dren,
let us not tire of a good work, hard though it be and wearisome; think of t=
he
many little hearts that in their sorrow look to us for help. What would the green earth be with=
out
its lovely flowers, and what a lonely home for us! Their beauty fills our hearts with
brightness, and their love with tender thoughts. Ought we then to leave the=
m to
die uncared for and alone? Th=
ey
give to us their all; ought we not to toil unceasingly, that they may bloom=
in
peace within their quiet homes? We
have tried to gain the love of the stern Frost-King, but in vain; his heart=
is
hard as his own icy land; no love can melt, no kindness bring it back to su=
nlight
and to joy. How then may we k=
eep
our frail blossoms from his cruel spirits?=
Who will give us counsel?
Who will be our messenger for the last time ? Speak, my subjects."
Then a great murmuring arose, and many spo=
ke,
some for costlier gifts, some for war; and the fearful counselled patience =
and
submission.
Long and eagerly they spoke, and their soft
voices rose high.
Then sweet music sounded on the air, and t=
he
loud tones were hushed, as in wondering silence the Fairies waited what sho=
uld
come.
Through the crowd there came a little form=
, a
wreath of pure white violets lay among the bright locks that fell so softly=
round
the gentle face, where a deep blush glowed, as, kneeling at the throne, lit=
tle
Violet said:--
"Dear Queen, we have bent to the
Frost-King's power, we have borne
gifts
unto his pride, but have we gone trustingly to him and spoken fearlessly of=
his
evil deeds? Have we shed the =
soft
light of unwearied love around his cold heart, and with patient tenderness =
shown
him how bright and beautiful love can make even the darkest lot?
"Our messengers have gone fearfully, =
and
with cold looks and courtly w=
ords
offered him rich gifts, things he cared not for, and with equal pride has he
sent them back.
"Then let me, the weakest of your ban=
d,
go to him, trusting in the love I know lies hidden in the coldest heart.
=
span>"I
will bear only a garland of our fairest flowers; these will I wind about him, and their b=
right
faces, looking lovingly in his, will bring sweet thoughts to his dark mind,=
and
their soft breath steal in like gentle words. Then, when he sees them fading on =
his
breast, will he not sigh that there is no warmth there to keep them fresh a=
nd
lovely? This will I do, dear =
Queen,
and
never
leave his dreary home, till the sunlight falls on flowers fair as those that
bloom in our own dear land."
Silently the Queen had listened, but now,
rising and placing her hand on little Violet's head, she said, turning to t=
he
throng below:-- "We in our pride and power have erred, while this, the
weakest and lowliest of our subjects, has from the innocence of her own pure
heart counselled us more wisely than the noblest of our train. All who will=
aid
our brave little messenger, lift your wands, that we may know who will place
their trust in the Power of Love."
Every fairy wand glistened in the air, as =
with
silvery voices they cried, "Love and little Violet."
Then down from the throne, hand in hand, c=
ame
the Queen and Violet, and till the moon sank did the Fairies toil, to weave=
a
wreath of the fairest flowers.
Tenderly they gathered them, with the night-dew fresh upon their lea=
ves,
and as they wove chanted sweet spells, and whispered fairy blessings on the
bright messengers whom they sent forth to die in a dreary land, that their
gentle kindred might bloom unharmed.
At length it was done; and the fair flowers
lay glowing in the soft starl=
ight,
while beside them stood the Fairies, singing to the music of the wind-harps=
:--
=
span> "We are sending you, dear flow=
ers,
Forth alone to d=
ie, Where your gentle sisters may=
not
weep
O'er the cold graves w=
here
you lie; But you go to =
bring
them fadeless life
In the bright homes wh=
ere
they dwell, And you sof=
tly
smile that 't is so,
As we sadly sing farew=
ell.
O plead with gentle words for us, =
And whisper tende=
rly
Of generous love to that cold hear=
t, And it will answe=
r ye;
And though you fade in a dreary ho=
me, Yet loving hearts=
will
tell
Of the joy and peace that you have
given: Flow=
ers,
dear flowers, farewell!"
The morning sun looked softly down upon the
broad green earth, which like=
a
mighty altar was sending up clouds of perfume from its breast, while flowers
danced gayly in the summer wind, and birds sang their morning hymn among the
cool green leaves. Then high =
above,
on shining wings, soared a little form.&nb=
sp;
The sunlight rested softly on the silken hair, and the winds fanned
lovingly the bright face, and brought the sweetest odors to cheer her on.
Thus went Violet through the clear air, and
the earth looked smiling up to her, as, with the bright wreath folded in he=
r arms,
she flew among the soft, white clouds.
On and on she went, over hill and valley,
broad rivers and rustling woods, till the warm sunlight passed away, the wi=
nds grew
cold, and the air thick with falling snow.=
Then far below she saw the Frost-King's home. Pillars of hard, gray ice supporte=
d the
high, arched roof, hung with crystal icicles. Dreary gardens lay around, filled with withered fl=
owers
and bare, drooping trees; while heavy clouds hung low in the dark sky, and a
cold wind murmured sadly through the wintry air.
With a beating heart Violet folded her fad=
ing
wreath more closely to her breast, and with weary wings flew onward to the
dreary palace.
Here, before the closed doors, stood many
forms with dark faces and harsh, discordant voices, who sternly asked the
shivering little Fairy why she came to them.
Gently she answered, telling them her erra=
nd,
beseeching them to let her pass ere the cold wind blighted her frail blosso=
ms. Then
they flung wide the doors, and she passed in.
Walls of ice, carved with strange figures,
were around her; glittering icicles hung from the high roof, and soft, white
snow covered the hard floors. On a
throne hung with clouds sat the Frost-King; a crown of crystals bound his w=
hite
locks, and
a
dark mantle wrought with delicate frost-work was folded over his cold breas=
t.
His stern face could not stay little Viole=
t,
and on through the long hall she went, heedless of the snow that gathered o=
n her
feet, and the bleak wind that blew around her; while the King with wondering
eyes looked on the golden light that played upon the dark walls as she pass=
ed.
The flowers, as if they knew their part,
unfolded their bright leaves, and poured forth their sweetest perfume, as,
kneeling at the throne, the brave little Fairy said,--
"O King of blight and sorrow, send me=
not
away till I have brought back the light and joy that will make your dark ho=
me
bright and beautiful again. L=
et me
call back to the desolate gardens the fair forms that are gone, and their s=
oft
voices blessing you will bring to your breast a never failing joy. Cast by your icy crown and sceptre=
, and
let the sunlight of love fall softly on your heart.
"Then will the earth bloom again in a=
ll
its beauty, and your dim eyes will rest only on fair forms, while music sha=
ll
sound through these dreary halls, and the love of grateful hearts be
yours. Have pity on the gentle
flower-spirits, and do not doom them to an early death, when they might blo=
om
in fadeless beauty, making us wiser by their gentle teachings, and the eart=
h brighter
by their lovely forms. These fair flowers, with the prayers of all Fairy La=
nd,
I lay before you; O send me not away till they are answered."
And with tears falling thick and fast upon
their tender leaves, Violet laid the wreath at his feet, while the golden l=
ight
grew ever brighter as it fell upon the little form so humbly kneeling there=
.
The King's stern face grew milder as he ga=
zed
on the gentle Fairy, and the flowers seemed to look beseechingly upon him; =
while
their fragrant voices sounded softly in his ear, telling of their dying
sisters, and of the joy it gives to bring happiness to the weak and
sorrowing. But he drew the da=
rk
mantle closer over his breast and answered coldly,--
"I cannot grant your prayer, little
Fairy; it is my will the flowers should die. Go back to your Queen, and tell he=
r that
I cannot yield my power to please these foolish flowers."
Then Violet hung the wreath above the thro=
ne,
and with weary foot went forth again, out into the cold, dark gardens, and
still the
golden
shadows followed her, and wherever they fell, flowers bloomed and green lea=
ves
rustled.
Then came the Frost-Spirits, and beneath t=
heir
cold wings the flowers died, while the Spirits bore Violet to a low, dark c=
ell,
saying as they left her, that their King was angry that she had dared to st=
ay
when he had bid her go.
So all alone she sat, and sad thoughts of =
her
happy home came back to her, and she wept bitterly. But soon came visions of the gentl=
e flowers
dying in their forest homes, and their voices ringing in her ear, imploring=
her
to save them. Then she wept no
longer, but patiently awaited what might come.
Soon the golden light gleamed faintly thro=
ugh
the cell, and she heard little voices calling for help, and high up among t=
he
heavy cobwebs hung poor little flies struggling to free themselves, while t=
heir
cruel enemies sat in their nets, watching their pain.
With her wand the Fairy broke the bands th=
at held
them, tenderly bound up their broken wings, and healed their wounds; while =
they
lay in the warm light, and feebly hummed their thanks to their kind deliver=
er.
Then she went to the ugly brown spiders, a=
nd
in gentle words told them, how in Fairy Land their kindred spun all the elf=
in
cloth, and in return the Fairies gave them food, and then how happily they =
lived
among the green leaves, spinning garments for their neigbbors. "And you
too," said she, "shall spin for me, and I will give you better fo=
od
than helpless insects. You sh=
all
live in peace, and spin your delicate threads into a mantle for the stern K=
ing;
and I will weave golden threads amid the gray, that when folded over his co=
ld
heart gentle thoughts may enter in and make it their home.
And while she gayly sung, the little weave=
rs
spun their silken threads, the flies on glittering wings flew lovingly above
her head, and over all the golden light shone softly down.
When the Frost-Spirits told their King, he
greatly wondered and often stole to look at the sunny little room where fri=
ends
and enemies worked peacefully together.&nb=
sp;
Still the light grew brighter, and floated out into the cold air, wh=
ere
it hung like bright clouds above the dreary gardens, whence all the Spirits'
power could not drive it; and green leaves budded on the naked trees, and f=
lowers
bloomed; but the Spirits heaped snow upon them, and they bowed their heads =
and
died.
At length the mantle was finished, and amid
the gray threads shone golden ones, making it bright; and she sent it to the
King, entreating him to wear it, for it would bring peace and love to dwell
within his breast.
But he scornfully threw it aside, and bade=
his
Spirits take her to a colder cell, deep in the earth; and there with harsh
words they left her.
Still
she sang gayly on, and the falling drops kept time so musically, that the K=
ing
in his cold ice-halls wondered at the low, sweet sounds that came stealing =
up
to him.
Thus Violet dwelt, and each day the golden
light grew stronger; and from among the crevices of the rocky walls came tr=
oops
of little velvet-coated moles, praying that they might listen to the sweet =
music,
and lie in the warm light.
"We lead," said they, "a dr=
eary
life in the cold earth; the flower-roots are dead, and no soft dews descend=
for
us to drink, no little seed or leaf can we find. Ah, good Fairy, let us be your ser=
vants:
give us but a few crumbs of your daily bread, and we will do all in our pow=
er
to serve you."
And Violet said, Yes; so day after day they labored to make a pathway through the frozen earth, that she might reach the roots of the withered flowers; and soon, wherever through the dark gallerie= s she went, the soft light fell upon the roots of flowers, and they with new life spread forth in the warm ground, and forced fresh sap to the blossoms above. Brightly they bloomed = and danced in the soft light, and the Frost-Spirits tried in vain to harm them,= for when they came beneath the bright clouds their power to do evil left them.<= o:p>
From his dark castle the King looked out on
the happy flowers, who nodded gayly to him, and in sweet colors strove to t=
ell
him of the good little Spirit, who toiled so faithfully below, that they mi=
ght
live. And when he turned from=
the
brightness without, to his stately palace, it seemcd so cold and dreary, th=
at
he folded Violet's mantle round him, and sat beneath the faded wreath upon =
his ice-carved
throne, wondering at the strange warmth that came from it; till at length he
bade his Spirits bring the little Fairy from her dismal prison.
Soon they came hastening back, and prayed =
him
to come and see how lovely the dark cell had grown. The rough floor was spread with de=
ep
green moss, and over wall and roof grew flowery vines, filling the air with
their sweet breath; while above played the clear, soft light, casting rosy
shadows on the glittering drops that lay
among
the fragrant leaves; and beneath the vines stood Violet, casting crumbs to =
the
downy little moles who ran fearlessly about and listened as she sang to the=
m.
When the old King saw how much fairer she =
had
made the dreary cell than his palace rooms, gentle thoughts within whispered
him to grant her prayer, and let the little Fairy go back to her friends and
home; but the Frost-Spirits breathed upon the flowers and bid him see how f=
rail
they were, and useless to a King.
Then the stern, cold thoughts came back again, and he harshly bid her
follow him.
With a sad farewell to her little friends =
she
followed him, and before the throne awaited his command. When the King saw how pale and sad =
the
gentle face had grown, how thin her robe, and weak her wings, and yet how
lovingly the golden shadows fell around her and brightened as they lay upon=
the
wand, which, guided by patient love, had made his once desolate home so bri=
ght,
he could not be cruel to the one who had done so much for him, and in kindly
tone he said,--
"Little Fairy, I offer you two things,
and you may choose between
them. If I will vow never mor=
e to
harm the flowers you may love, will you go back to your own people and leav=
e me
and my Spirits to work our will on all the other flowers that bloom? The ea=
rth is
broad, and we can find them in any land, then why should you care what happ=
ens
to their kindred if your own are safe? Will you do this?"
"Ah!" answered Violet sadly,
"do you not know that beneath the flowers' bright leaves there beats a
little heart that loves and sorrows like our own? And can I, heedless of their beaut=
y, doom
them to pain and grief, that I might save my own dear blossoms from the cru=
el
foes to which I leave them? A=
h no!
sooner would I dwell for ever in your darkest cell, than lose the love of t=
hose
warm, trusting hearts."
"Then listen," said the King,
"to the task I give you. You
shall raise up for me a palace fairer than this, and if you can work that
miracle I will grant your prayer or lose my kingly crown. And now go forth,=
and
begin your task; my Spirits shall not harm you, and I will wait till it is =
done
before I blight another flower."
Then out into the gardens went Violet with=
a
heavy heart; for she had toiled so long, her strength was nearly gone. But the flowers whispered their
gratitude, and folded their leaves as if they blessed her; and when she saw=
the
garden filled with loving friends,
who
strove to cheer and thank her for her care, courage and strength returned; =
and
raising up thick clouds of mist, that hid her from the wondering flowers, a=
lone
and trustingly she began her work. <=
/span>As
time went by, the Frost-King feared the task had been too hard for the Fair=
y;
sounds were heard behind the walls of mist, bright shadows seen to pass wit=
hin,
but the little voice was never heard.
Meanwhile the golden light had faded from the garden, the flowers bo=
wed
their heads, and all was dark and cold as when the gentle Fairy came.
And to the stern King his home seemed more
desolate and sad; for he missed the warm light, the happy flowers, and, more
than all, the gay voice and bright face of little Violet. So he wandered through his dreary
palace, wondering how he had been content to live before without sunlight a=
nd
love.
And little Violet was mourned as dead in
Fairy-Land, and many tears were shed, for the gentle Fairy was beloved by a=
ll,
from the Queen down to the humblest flower. Sadly they watched over every bird=
and
blossom which she had loved, and strove to be like her in kindly words and
deeds. They wore cypress wrea=
ths,
and spoke of her as one whom they should never see again.
Thus they dwelt in deepest sorrow, till one
day there came to them an unknown messenger, wrapped in a dark mantle, who
looked with wondering eyes on the bright palace, and flower-crowned elves, =
who
kindly welcomed him, and brought fresh dew and rosy fruit to refresh the we=
ary
stranger. Then he told them t=
hat he
came from the Frost-King, who begged the Queen and all her subjects to come=
and
see the palace little Violet had built; for the veil of mist would soon be
withdrawn, and as she could not make a fairer home than the ice-castle, the
King wished her kindred near to comfort and to bear her home. And while the Elves wept, he told =
them
how patiently she had toiled, how her fadeless love had made the dark cell
bright and beautiful.
These and many other things he told them; =
for
little Violet had won the love of many of the Frost-Spirits, and even when =
they
killed the flowers she had toiled so hard to bring to life and beauty, she
spoke gentle words to them, and sought to teach them how beautiful is love.=
Long stayed the messenger, and deep=
er
grew his wonder that the Fairy could have left so fair a home, to toil in t=
he
dreary palace of his cruel master, and suffer cold and weariness, to give l=
ife
and joy to the weak and sorrowing.
When the Elves had promised they would come, he bade farewell to hap=
py
Fairy-Land, and flew sadly home.
At
last the time arrived, and out in his barren garden, under a canopy of dark
clouds, sat the Frost-King before the misty wall, behind which were heard l=
ow,
sweet sounds, as of rustling trees and warbling birds.
Soon through the air came many-colored tro=
ops
of Elves. First the Queen, kn=
own by
the silver lilies on her snowy robe and the bright crown in her hair, beside
whom fIew a band of Elves in crimson and gold, making sweet music on their =
flower-trumpets,
while all around, with smiling faces and bright eyes, fluttered her loving
subjects.
On they came, like a flock of brilliant
butterflies, their shining wings and many-colored garments sparkling in the=
dim
air; and soon the leafless trees were gay with living flowers, and their sw=
eet voices
filled the gardens with music. Like
his subjects, the King looked on the lovely Elves, and no longer wondered t=
hat
little Violet wept and longed for her home. Darker and more desolate seemed hi=
s stately
home, and when the Fairies asked for flowers, he felt ashamed that he had n=
one
to give them.
At
length a warm wind swept through the gardens, and the mist-clouds passed aw=
ay,
while in silent wonder looked the Frost-King and the Elves upon the scene
before them.
Far as eye could reach were tall green tre=
es
whose drooping boughs made graceful arches, through which the golden light
shone softly, making bright shadows on the deep green moss below, where the
fairest flowers waved in the cool wind, and sang, in their low, sweet voice=
s, how
beautiful is Love.
Flowering vines folded their soft leaves
around the trees, making green pillars of their rough trunks. Fountains threw their bright water=
s to
the roof, and flocks of silver-winged birds flew singing among the flowers,=
or
brooded lovingly above their nests. Doves with gentle eyes cooed among =
the green
leaves, snow-white clouds floated in the sunny shy, and the golden light,
brighter than before, shone softly down.
Soon through the long aisles came Violet,
flowers and green leaves rustling as she passed. On she went to the Frost-King's th=
rone, bearing
two crowns, one of sparkling icicles, the other of pure white lilies, and
kneeling before him, said,--
"My task is done, and, thanks to the =
Spirits
of earth and air, I have made as fair a home as Elfin hands can form. You must now decide. Will you be K=
ing of
Flower-Land, and own my gentle kindred for your loving friends? Will you possess unfading peace an=
d joy,
and the grateful love of all the green earth's fragrant children? Then take this crown of flowers. But if you can find no pleasure he=
re, go
back to your own cold home, and dwell in solitude and darkness, where no ra=
y of
sunlight or of joy can enter.
"Send forth your Spirits to carry sor=
row
and desolation over the happy earth, and win for yourself the fear and hatr=
ed
of those who would so gladly love and reverence you. Then take this glittering crown, h=
ard
and cold as your own heart will be, if you will shut out all that is bright=
and
beautiful. Both are before
you. Choose."
The old King looked at the little Fairy, a=
nd saw
how lovingly the bright shadows gathered round her, as if to shield her from
every harm; the timid birds nestled in her bosom, and the flowers grew fair=
er
as she looked upon them; while her gentle friends, with tears in their brig=
ht
eyes, folded their hands beseechingly, and smiled on her.
Kind thought came thronging to his mind, a=
nd
he turned to look at the two palaces.
Violet's, so fair and beautiful, with its rustling trees, calm, sunny
skies, and happy birds and flowers, all created by her patient love and
care. His own, so cold and da=
rk and
dreary, his empty gardens where no flowers could bloom, no green trees dwel=
l, or
gay birds sing, all desolate and dim;--and while he gazed, his own Spirits,
casting off their dark mantles, knelt before him and besought him not to se=
nd
them forth to blight the things the gentle Fairies loved so much. "We have served you long and
faithfully," said they, "give us now our freedom, that we may lea=
rn
to be beloved by the sweet flowers we have harmed so long. Grant the little Fairy's prayer; a=
nd let
her go back to her own dear home. She has taught us that Love is migh=
tier
than Fear. Choose the Flower =
crown,
and we will be the truest subjects you have ever had."
Then,
amid a burst of wild, sweet music, the Frost-King placed the Flower crown on
his head, and knelt to little Violet; while far and near, over the broad gr=
een
earth, sounded the voices of flowers, singing their thanks to the gentle Fa=
iry,
and the summer wind was laden with perfumes, which they sent as tokens of t=
heir
gratitude; and wherever she went, old trees bent down to fold their slender=
branches
round her, flowers laid their soft faces against her own, and whispered
blessings; even the humble moss bent over the little feet, and kissed them =
as
they passed.
The
old King, surrounded by the happy Fairies, sat in Violet's lovely home, and
watched his icy castle melt away beneath the bright sunlight; while his
Spirits, cold and gloomy no longer, danced with the Elves, and waited on th=
eir
King with loving eagerness. Brighter grew the golden light, gayer sang the
birds, and the harmonious voices of grateful flowers, sounding over the ear=
th, carried
new joy to all their gentle kindred.
Brighter
shone the golden shadows; On the cool wind softly=
came The low, sweet tones of happy flowe=
rs, Singing little Violet's=
name.
'Mong the green trees was it
whispered, And the
bright waves bore it on To the
lonely forest flowers, Where the glad news had=
not
gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdo=
m, And his power to harm a=
nd
blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold hear=
t Warmed with music, love=
, and
light;
And his fair home, once so dreary, =
Gay with lovely Elves a=
nd
flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded Through the long bright=
summer
hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power, All dark shadows passed=
away,
And o'er the home of happy flowers =
The golden light for ev=
er
lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended, And all Flower-Land was
taught
The "Power of Love," by g=
entle
deeds That little Violet wrought.
=
span>As
Sunny Lock ceased, another little Elf came forward; and this was
the
tale "Silver Wing" told.
EVA'S VISIT TO FAIRY-LAND.=
a>
DOWN among the grass and fragrant clover l=
ay
little Eva by the brook-side, watching the bright waves, as they went singi=
ng
by under the drooping flowers that grew on its banks. As she was wondering where the wat=
ers
went, she heard a faint, low sound, as of far-off music. She thought it was the wind, but n=
ot a
leaf was stirring, and soon through the rippling water came a strange little
boat.
It was a lily of the valley, whose tall st=
em
formed the mast, while the broad leaves that rose from the roots, and droop=
ed
again till they reached the water, were filled with gay little Elves, who
danced to the music of the silver lily-bells above, that rang a merry peal,=
and
filled the air with their fragrant breath.
On came the fairy boat, till it reached a
moss-grown rock; and here it stopped, while the Fairies rested beneath the
violet-leaves, and sang with the dancing waves.
Eva looked with wonder on their gay faces =
and
bright garments, and in the joy of her heart sang too, and threw crimson fr=
uit
for the little folks to feast upon.
They looked kindly on the child, and, after
whispering long among themselves, two little bright-eyed Elves flew over the
shining water, and, lighting on the clover-blossoms, said gently, "Lit=
tle
maiden, many thanks for your kindness; and our Queen bids us ask if you wil=
l go
with us to Fairy-Land, and learn what we can teach you."
"Gladly would I go with you, dear Fai=
ries,"
said Eva, "but I cannot sail in your little boat. See! I can hold you in my hand, and cou=
ld not
live among you without harming your tiny kingdom, I am so large."
Then the Elves laughed gayly, as they fold=
ed
their arms about her, saying, "You are a good child, dear Eva, to fear
doing harm to those weaker than yourself.&=
nbsp;
You cannot hurt us now. Look
in the water
and
see what we have done."
Eva looked into the brook, and saw a tiny
child standing between the Elves.
"Now I can go with you," said she, "but see, I can no
longer step from the bank to yonder stone, for the brook seems now like a g=
reat
river, and you have not given me wings like yours."
But the Fairies took each a hand, and flew=
lightly
over the stream. The Queen and her subjects came to meet her, and all seemed
glad to say some kindly word of welcome to the little stranger. They placed a flower-crown upon her
head, laid their soft faces against her own, and soon it seemed as if the g=
entle
Elves had always been her friends.
"Now
must we go home," said the Queen, "and you shall go with us, litt=
le
one."
Then
there was a great bustle, as they flew about on shining wings, some laying
cushions of violet leaves in the boat, others folding the Queen's veil and
mantle more closely round her, lest the falling dews should chill her.
The cool waves' gentle plashing against the
boat, and the sweet chime of the lily-bells, lulled little Eva to sleep, and
when she woke it was in Fairy-Land.
A faint, rosy light, as of the setting sun, shone on the white pilla=
rs
of the Queen's palace as they passed in, and the sleeping flowers leaned gr=
acefully
on their stems, dreaming beneath their soft green curtains. All was cool and still, and the El=
ves
glided silently about, lest they should break their slumbers. They led Eva to a bed of pure white
leaves, above which drooped the fragrant petals of a crimson rose.
"You
can look at the bright colors till the light fades, and then the rose will =
sing
you to sleep," said the Elves, as they folded the soft leaves about he=
r,
gently kissed her, and stole away.
Long she lay watching the bright shadows, =
and
listening to the song of the rose, while through the long night dreams of
lovely things floated like bright clouds through her mind; while the rose b=
ent lovingly
above her, and sang in the clear moonlight.
With the sun rose the Fairies, and, with E=
va,
hastened away to the fountain, whose cool waters were soon filled with litt=
le forms,
and the air ringing with happy voices, as the Elves floated in the blue wav=
es
among the fair white lilies, or sat on the green moss, smoothing their brig=
ht
locks, and wearing fresh garlands of dewy flowers. At length the Queen came forth, an=
d her
subjects gathered round her, and while the flowers bowed their heads, and t=
he
trees hushed their rustling, the Fairies sang their morning hymn to the Fat=
her
of birds and blossoms, who had made the earth so fair a home for them.
Then they flew away to the gardens, and so=
on,
high up among the tree-tops, or under the broad leaves, sat the Elves in li=
ttle
groups, taking their breakfast of fruit and pure fresh dew; while the brigh=
t-winged
birds came fearlessly among them, pecking the same ripe berries, and dipping
their little beaks in the same flower-cups, and the Fairies folded their ar=
ms
lovingly about them, smoothed their soft bosoms, and gayly sang to them.
"Now, little Eva," said they,
"you will see that Fairies are not idle, wilful Spirits, as mortals be=
lieve. Come, we will show you what we do.=
"
They led her to a lovely room, through who=
se
walls of deep green leaves the light stole softly in. Here lay many wounded insects, and
harmless little creatures, whom cruel hands had hurt; and pale, drooping
flowers grew beside urns of healing herbs, from whose fresh leaves came a
faint, sweet perfume.
Eva
wondered, but silently followed her guide, little Rose-Leaf, who with tender
words passed among the delicate blossoms, pouring dew on their feeble roots,
cheering them with her loving words and happy smile.
Then
she went to the insects; first to a little fly who lay in a flower-leaf cra=
dle.
"Do you suffer much, dear Gauzy-Wing?=
"
asked the Fairy. "I will=
bind
up your poor little leg, and Zephyr shall rock you to sleep." So she f=
olded
the cool leaves tenderly about the poor fly, bathed his wings, and brought =
him
refreshing drink, while he hummed his thanks, and forgot his pain, as Zephyr
softly sung and fanned him with her waving wings.
They passed on, and Eva saw beside each be=
d a
Fairy, who with gentle hands and loving words soothed the suffering
insects. At length they stopp=
ed
beside a bee, who lay among sweet honeysuckle flowers, in a cool, still pla=
ce,
where the summer wind blew in, and the green leaves rustled pleasantly. Yet he seemed to find no rest, and=
murmured
of the pain he was doomed to bear.
" Why must I lie here, while my kindred are out in the pleasant
fields, enjoying the sunlight and the fresh air, and cruel hands have doome=
d me
to this dark place and bitter pain when I have done no wrong? Uncared for and forgotten, I must =
stay
here among these poor things who think only of themselves. Come here,
Rose-Leaf, and bind up my wounds, for I am far more useful than idle bird or
fly."
Then said the Fairy, while she bathed the
broken wing,--
"Love-Blossom, you should not murmur.=
We may find happiness in seeking t=
o be
patient even while we suffer. You
are not forgotten or uncared for, but others need our care more than you, a=
nd
to those who take cheerfully the pain and sorrow sent, do we most gladly gi=
ve our
help. You need not be idle, e=
ven
though lying here in darkness and sorrow; you can be taking from your heart=
all
sad and discontented feelings, and if love and patience blossom there, you =
will
be better for the lonely hours spent here.=
Look on the bed beside you; this little dove has suffered far greate=
r pain
than you, and all our care can never ease it; yet through the long days he =
hath
lain here, not an unkind word or a repining sigh hath he uttered. Ah, Love-Blossom, the gentle bird =
can
teach a lesson you will be wiser and better for."
Then a faint voice whispered, "Little
Rose-Leaf, come quickly, or I cannot thank you as I ought for all your lovi=
ng
care of me."
So they passed to the bed beside the disco=
ntented
bee, and here upon the softest down lay the dove, whose gentle eyes looked
gratefully upon the Fairy, as she knelt beside the little couch, smoothed t=
he soft
white bosom, folded her arms about it and wept sorrowing tears, while the b=
ird
still whispered its gratitude and love.
"Dear Fairy, the fairest flowers have
cheered me with their sweet breath, fresh dew and fragrant leaves have been
ever ready for me, gentle hands to tend, kindly hearts to love; and for thi=
s I
can only thank you and say farewell."
Then the quivering wings were still, and t=
he
patient little dove was dead; but the bee murmured no longer, and the dew f=
rom
the flowers fell like tears around the quiet bed.
Sadly
Rose-Leaf led Eva away, saying, "Lily-Bosom shall have a grave tonight
beneath our fairest blossoms, and you shall see that gentleness and love are
prized far above gold or beauty, here in Fairy-Land. Come now to the Flower Palace, and=
see
the Fairy Court."
Beneath green arches, bright with birds and
flowers, beside singing waves, went Eva into a lofty hall. The roof of pure white lilies rest=
ed on
pillars of green clustering vines, while many-colored blossoms threw their
bright shadows on the walls, as they danced below in the deep green moss, a=
nd
their low, sweet voices sounded softly through the sunlit palace, while the
rustling leaves kept time.
Beside
the throne stood Eva, and watched the lovely forms around her, as they stoo=
d,
each little band in its own color, with glistening wings, and flower wands.=
Suddenly the music grew louder and sweeter,
and the Fairies knelt, and bowed their heads, as on through the crowd of lo=
ving
subjects came the Queen, while the air was filled with gay voices singing to
welcome her.
She
placed the child beside her, saying, "Little Eva, you shall see now how
the flowers on your great earth bloom so brightly. A band of loving little gardeners =
go
daily forth from Fairy-Land, to tend and watch them, that no harm may befall
the gentle spirits that dwell beneath their leaves. This is never known, for like all =
good
it is unseen by mortal eyes, and unto only pure hearts like yours do we make
known our secret. The humbles=
t flower
that grows is visited by our messengers, and often blooms in fragrant beauty
unknown, unloved by all save Fairy friends, who seek to fill the spirits wi=
th
all sweet and gentle virtues, that they may not be useless on the earth; for
the noblest mortals stoop to learn of flowers. Now, Eglantine, what have you to t=
ell us
of your rosy namesakes on the earth?"
From a group of Elves, whose rose-wreathed
wands showed the flower they loved, came one bearing a tiny urn, and, answe=
ring
the Queen, she said,--
"Over hill and valley they are bloomi=
ng
fresh and fair as summer sun and dew can make them. No drooping stem or withered leaf =
tells
of any evil thought within their fragrant bosoms, and thus from the fairest=
of
their race have they gathered this sweet dew, as a token of their gratitude=
to
one whose tenderness and care have kept them pure and happy; and this, the =
loveliest
of their sisters, have I brought to place among the Fairy flowers that never
pass away."
Eglantine
laid the urn before the Queen, and placed the fragrant rose on the dewy moss
beside the throne, while a murmur of approval went through the hall, as each
elfin wand waved to the little Fairy who had toiled so well and faithful]y,=
and
could bring so fair a gift to their good Queen.
Then
came forth an Elf bearing a withered leaf, while her many-colored robe and =
the
purple tulips in her hair told her name and charge.
"Dear Queen," she sadly said,
"I would gladly bring as pleasant tidings as my sister, but, alas! my
flowers are proud and wilful, and when I went to gather my little gift of
colored leaves for royal garments, they bade me bring this withered blossom,
and tell you they would serve no longer one who will not make them Queen ov=
er
all the other flowers. They w=
ould
yield neither dew nor honey, but proudly closed their leaves and bid me
go." "Your task has=
been
too hard for you," said the Queen kindly, as she placed the drooping
flower in the urn Eglantine had given, "you will see how this dew from=
a
sweet, pure heart will give new life and loveliness even to this poor faded=
one. So can you, dear Rainbow, by loving
words and gentle teachings, bring back lost purity and peace to those whom
pride and selfishness have blighted.
Go once again to the proud flowers, and tell them when they are quee=
n of
their own hearts they will ask no fairer kingdom. Watch more tenderly than ever over=
them,
see that they lack neither dew nor air, speak lovingly to them, and let no
unkind word or deed of theirs anger you.&n=
bsp;
Let them see by your patient love and care how much fairer they might
be, and when next you come, you will be laden with gifts from humble, loving
flowers."
Thus
they told what they had done, and received from their Queen some gentle chi=
ding
or loving word of praise.
"You will be weary of this," said
little Rose-Leaf to Eva; "come now and see where we are taught to read=
the
tales written on flower- leaves, and the sweet language of the birds, and a=
ll
that can make a Fairy heart wiser and better."
Then
into a cheerful place they went, where were many groups of flowers, among w=
hose
leaves sat the child Elves, and learned from their flower-books all that Fa=
iry
hands had written there. Some=
studied
how to watch the tender buds, when to spread them to the sunlight, and when=
to
shelter them from rain; how to guard the ripening seeds, and when to lay th=
em
in the warm earth or send them on the summer wind to far off hills and vall=
eys,
where other Fairy hands would tend and cherish them, till a sisterhood of h=
appy
flowers sprang up to beautify and gladden the lonely spot where they had fa=
llen. Others learned to heal the wounded
insects, whose frail limbs a breeze could shatter, and who, were it not for
Fairy hands, would die ere half their happy summer life had gone. Some learned how by pleasant dream=
s to
cheer and comfort mortal hearts, by whispered words bf love to save from ev=
il
deeds those who had gone astray, to fill young hearts with gentle thoughts =
and
pure affections, that no sin might mar the beauty of the human flower; while
others, like mortal children, learned the Fairy alphabet. Thus the Elves made loving friends=
by
care and love, and no evil thing could harm them, for those they helped to
cherish and protect ever watched to shield and save them.
Eva nodded to the gay little ones, as they
peeped from among the leaves at the stranger, and then she listened to the
Fairy lessons. Several tiny Elves stood on a broad leaf while the teacher s=
at among
the petals of a flower that bent beside them, and asked questions that none=
but
Fairies would care to know.
"Twinkle, if there lay nine seeds wit=
hin
a flower-cup and the wind bore five away, how many would the blossom
have?" "Four,"
replied the little one.
"Rosebud, if a Cowslip opens three le=
aves
in one day and four the next, how many rosy leaves will there be when the w=
hole
flower has bloomed?"
"Seven," sang the gay little Elf=
.
"Harebell, if a silkworm spin one yar=
d of
Fairy cloth in an hour, how many will it spin in a day?"
"Twelve," said the Fairy child.<= o:p>
"Primrose, where ]ies Violet
Island?"
"In the Lake of Ripples."
"Lilla, you may bound Rose Land."=
;
"On the north by Ferndale, south by S=
unny
Wave River, east by the hill of Morning Clouds, and west by the Evening
Star." "Now, little ones," said the teacher, "you may g=
o to
your painting, that our visitor may see how we repair the flowers that eart=
hly
hands have injured."
Then Eva saw how, on large, white leaves, =
the
Fairies learned to imitate the lovely colors, and with tiny brushes to brig=
hten
the blush on the anemone's cheek, to deepen the blue of the violet's eye, a=
nd add
new light to the golden cowslip.
"You
have stayed long enough," said the Elves at length, "we have many
things to show you. Come now =
and
see what is our dearest work."
So Eva said farewell to the child Elves, a=
nd
hastened with little Rose-Leaf to the gates. Here she saw many bands of Fairies,
folded in dark mantles that mortals might not know them, who, with the chil=
d among
them, flew away over hill and valley.
Some went to the cottages amid the hills, some to the sea-side to wa=
tch
above the humble fisher folks; but little Rose-Leaf and many others went in=
to
the noisy city.
Eva wondered within herself what good the =
tiny
Elves could do in this great place; but she soon learned, for the Fairy band
went among the poor and friendless, bringing pleasant dreams to the sick and
old, sweet, tender thoughts of love and gentleness to the young, strength to
the weak, and patient cheerfulness to the poor and lonely.
Then
the child wondered no longer, but deeper grew her love for the tender-heart=
ed
Elves, who left their own happy home to cheer and comfort those who never k=
new
what hands had clothed and fed them, what hearts had given of their own joy,
and brought such happiness to theirs.
Long
they stayed, and many a lesson little Eva learned: but when she begged them to go bac=
k,
they still led her on, saying, "Our work is not yet done; shall we lea=
ve
so many sad hearts when we may cheer them, so many dark homes that we may
brighten? We must stay yet lo=
nger,
little Eva, and you may learn yet more."
Then they went into a dark and lonely room,
and here they found a pale, sad-eyed child, who wept bitter tears over a fa=
ded
flower. "Ah," sighe=
d the
little one, "it was my only friend, and I cherished it with all my lone
heart's love; 't was all that made my sad life happy; and it is gone."=
Tenderly
the child fastened the drooping stem, and placed it where the one faint ray=
of
sunlight stole into the dreary room.
"Do you see," said the Elves,
"through this simple flower will we keep the child pure and stainless =
amid
the sin and sorrow around her. The love of this shall lead her on through
temptation and through grief, and she shall be a spirit of joy and consolat=
ion
to the sinful and the sorrowing."
And with busy love toiled the Elves amid t=
he
withered leaves, and new strength was given to the flower; while, as day by=
day
the friendless child watered the growing buds, deeper grew her love for the
unseen friends who had given her one thing to cherish in her lonely home;
sweet, gentle thoughts filled her heart as she bent above it, and the bloss=
om's
fragrant breath was to her a whispered voice of all fair and lovely things;=
and
as the flower taught her, so she taught others.
The
loving Elves brought her sweet dreams by night, and happy thoughts by day, =
and
as she grew in childlike beauty, pure and patient amid poverty and sorrow, =
the
sinful were rebuked, sorrowing hearts grew light, and the weak and selfish
forgot their idle fears, when they saw her trustingly live on with none to =
aid
or comfort her. The love she =
bore
the tender flower kept her own heart innocent and bright, and the pure human
flower was a lesson to those who looked upon it; and soon the gloomy house =
was
bright with happy hearts, that learned of the gentle child to bear poverty =
and
grief as she had done, to forgive those who brought care and wrong to them,=
and
to seek for happiness in humble deeds of charity and love.
"Our work is done," whispered th=
e Elves,
and with blessings on the two fair flowers, they flew away to other homes;-=
-to
a blind old man who dwelt alone with none to love him, till through long ye=
ars
of darkness and of silent sorrow the heart within had grown dim and cold. No
sunlight could enter at the darkened eyes, and none were near to whisper ge=
ntle
words, to cheer and comfort.
Thus he dwelt forgotten and alone, seeking=
to
give no joy to others, possessing none himself. Life was dark and sad till the unt=
iring Elves
came to his dreary home, bringing sunlight and love. They whispered sweet words of comf=
ort,--how,
if the darkened eyes could find no light without, within there might be
never-failing happiness; gentle feelings and sweet, loving thoughts could m=
ake
the heart fair, if the gloomy, selfish sorrow were but cast away, and all w=
ould
be bright and beautiful.
They brought light-hearted children, who
gathered round him, making the desolate home fair with their young faces, a=
nd
his sad heart gay with their sweet, childish voices. The love they bore he could not ca=
st
away, sunlight stole in, the dark thoughts passed away, and the earth was a
pleasant home to him.
Thus their little hands led him back to pe=
ace
and happiness, flowers bloomed beside his door, and their fragrant breath
brought happy thoughts of pleasant valleys and green hills; birds sang to h=
im, and
their sweet voices woke the music in his own soul, that never failed to calm
and comfort. Happy sounds were
heard in his once lonely home, and bright faces gathered round his knee, and
listened tenderly while he strove to tell them all the good that gentleness=
and
love had done for him.
Still the Elves watched near, and brighter
grew the heart as kindly thoughts and tender feelings entered in, and made =
it
their home; and when the old man fell asleep, above his grave little feet t=
rod lightly,
and loving hands laid fragrant flowers.
Then went the Elves into the dreary prison=
-houses,
where sad hearts pined in lonely sorrow for the joy and freedom they had
lost. To these came the lovin=
g band
with tender words, telling of the peace they yet might win by patient striv=
ing
and repentant tears, thus waking in their bosoms all the holy feelings and
sweet affections that had slept so long.
They told pleasant tales, and sang their
sweetest songs to cheer and gladden, while the dim cells grew bright with t=
he
sunlight, and fragrant with the flowers the loving Elves had brought, and by
their gentle teachings those sad, despairing hearts were filled with patien=
t hope
and earnest longing to win back their lost innocence and joy.
Thus to all who needed help or comfort went
the faithful Fairies; and when at length they turned towards Fairy-Land, ma=
ny
were the grateful, happy hearts they left behind.
Then through the summer sky, above the
blossoming earth, they journeyed home, happier for the joy they had given,
wiser for the good they had done.
All Fairy-Land was dressed in flowers, and=
the
soft wind went singing by, laden with their fragrant breath. Sweet music sounded through the ai=
r, and
troops of Elves in their gayest robes hastened to the palace where the feast
was spread.
Soon the bright hall was filled with smili=
ng
faces and fair forms, and little Eva, as she stood beside the Queen, thought
she had never seen a sight so lovely.
The many-colored shadows of the fairest
flowers played on the pure white walls, and fountains sparkled in the sunli=
ght,
making music as the cool waves rose and fell, while to and fro, with waving
wings and joyous voices, went the smiling Elves, bearing fruit and honey,
or
fragrant garlands for each other's hair.
Long they feasted, gayly they sang, and Ev=
a,
dancing merrily among them, longed to be an Elf that she might dwell foreve=
r in
so fair a home.
At
length the music ceased, and the Queen said, as she laid her hand on little
Eva's shining hair:--
"Dear child, tomorrow we must bear you
home, for, much as we long to keep you, it were wrong to bring such sorrow =
to
your loving earthly friends; therefore we will guide you to the brook-side,=
and
there say farewell till you come again to visit us. Nay, do not weep, dear Rose-Leaf; =
you
shall watch over little Eva's flowers, and when she looks at them she will
think of you. Come now and le=
ad her
to the Fairy garden, and show her what we think our fairest sight. Weep no more, but strive to make h=
er
last hours with us happy as you can."
With gentle caresses and most tender words=
the
loving Elves gathered about the child, and, with Rose-Leaf by her side, they
led her through the palace, and along green, winding paths, till Eva saw wh=
at
seemed a wall of flowers rising before her, while the air was filled with t=
he most
fragrant odors, and the low, sweet music as of singing blossoms.
"Where
have you brought me, and what mean these lovely sounds?" asked Eva.
"Look here, and you shall see," =
said
Rose-Leaf, as she bent aside the vines, "but listen silently or you ca=
nnot
hear."
Then Eva, looking through the drooping vin=
es,
beheld a garden filled with the loveliest flowers; fair as were all the
blossoms she had seen in Fairy-Land, none were so beautiful as these. The rose glowed with a deeper crim=
son,
the lily's soft leaves were more purely white, the crocs and humble cowslip
shone like sunlight, and the violet
was
blue as the sky that smiled above it.
"How
beautiful they are," whispered Eva, "but, dear Rose-Leaf, why do =
you
keep them here, and why call you this your fairest sight?"
"Look
again, and I will tell you," answered the Fairy.
Eva
looked, and saw from every flower a tiny form come forth to welcome the Elv=
es,
who all, save Rose-Leaf, had flown above the wall, and were now scattering =
dew
upon the flowers' bright leaves and talking gayly with the Spirits, who gat=
hered
around them, and seemed full of joy that they had come. The child saw that each one wore t=
he colors
of the flower that was its home.
Delicate and graceful were the little forms, bright the silken hair =
that
fell about each lovely face; and Eva heard the low, sweet murmur of their
silvery voices and the rustle of their wings. She gazed in silent wonder, forget=
ting
she knew not who they were, till the Fairy said,--
"These are the spirits of the flowers,
and this the Fairy Home where those whose hearts were pure and loving on the
earth come to bloom in fadeless beauty here, when their earthly life is
past. The humblest flower that
blooms has a home with us, for outward beauty is a worthless thing if all be
not fair and sweet within. Do=
you
see
yonder
lovely spirit singing with my sister Moonlight? a clover blossom was her home, and=
she
dwelt unknown, unloved; yet patient and content, bearing cheerfully the sor=
rows
sent her. We watched and saw =
how
fair and sweet the humble flower grew, and then gladly bore her here, to
blossom with the lily and the rose.
The flowers' lives are often short, for cruel hands destroy them;
therefore is it our greatest joy to bring them hither, where no careless fo=
ot
or wintry wind can harm them, where they bloom in quiet beauty, repaying ou=
r care
by their love and sweetest perfumes."
"I will never break another flower,&q=
uot;
cried Eva; " but let me go to them, dear Fairy; I would gladly know the
lovely spirits, and ask forgiveness for the sorrow I have caused. May I not go in?"
"Nay,
dear Eva, you are a mortal child, and cannot enter here; but I will tell th=
em
of the kind little maiden who has learned to love them, and they will remem=
ber
you when you are gone. Come n=
ow,
for you have
seen
enough, and we must be away."
On a rosy morning cloud, surrounded by the
loving Elves, went Eva through the sunny sky. The fresh wind bore them gently on=
, and
soon they stood again beside the brook, whose waves danced brightly as if to
welcome them.
"Now, ere we say farewell," said=
the
Queen, as they gathered nearer to the child, "tell me, dear Eva, what
among all our Fairy gifts will make you happiest, and it shall be yours.&qu=
ot;
"You good little Fairies," said =
Eva,
folding them in her arms, for she was no longer the tiny child she had been=
in
Fairy-Land, "you dear good little Elves, what can I ask of you, who ha=
ve
done so much to make me happy, and taught me so many good and gentle lesson=
s, the
memory of which will never pass away?
I can only ask of you the power to be as pure and gentle as yourselv=
es,
as tender and loving to the weak and sorrowing, as untiring in kindly deeds=
to
all. Grant me this gift, and =
you
shall see that little Eva has not forgotten what you have taught her."=
"The power shall be yours," said=
the
Elves, and laid their soft hands on her head; we will watch over you in dre=
ams,
and when you would have tidings of us, ask the flowers in your garden, and =
they
will tell you all you would know.
Farewell. Remember
Fairy-Land and all your loving friends."
They clung about her tenderly, and little
Rose-Leaf placed a flower crown on her head, whispering softly, "When =
you
would come to us again, stand by the brook-side and wave this in the air, a=
nd
we will gladly take you to our home again.=
Farewell, dear Eva. Th=
ink of
your little Rose-Leaf when among the flowers."
Long Eva watched their shining wings, and
listened to the music of their voices as they flew singing home, and when at
length the last little form had vanished among the clouds, she saw that all
around her where the Elves had been, the fairest flowers had sprung up, and=
the
lonely brook-side was a blooming garden.
Thus she stood among the waving blossoms, =
with
the Fairy garland in her hair, and happy feelings in her heart, better and
wiser for her
visit
to Fairy-Land.
"Now, Star-Twinkle, what have you to
teach?" asked the Queen.
"Nothing
but a little song I heard the hare-bells singing," replied the Fairy, =
and,
taking her harp, sang, in a low, sweet voice:--
THERE grew a fragrant rose-tree wh=
ere
the brook flows,
With two little tender buds, and o=
ne
full rose;
When the sun went down to his bed =
in the
west,
The little buds leaned on the
rose-mother's breast,
While the bright eyed stars their =
long
watch kept,
And the flowers of the valley in t=
heir
green cradles slept;
Then silently in odors they commun=
ed
with each otber,
The two little buds on the bosom of
their mother.
"O sister," said the lit=
tle
one, as she gazed at the sky,
"I wish that the Dew Elves, a=
s they
wander lightly by,
Would bring me a star; for they ne=
ver
grow dim,
And the Father does not need them =
to
burn round him.
The shining drops of dew the Elves=
bring
each day
And place in my bosom, so soon pass
away;
But a star would glitter brightly
through the long summer hours,
And I should be fairer than all my
sister flowers.
That were better far than the dew-=
drops
that fall
On the high and the low, and come =
alike
to all.
I would be fair and stately, with a
bright star to shine
And give a queenly air to this cri=
mson
robe of mine."
And proudly she cried, "These
fire-flies shall be
My jewels, since the stars can nev=
er
come to me."
Just then a tiny dew-drop that hun=
g o'er
the dell
On the breast of the bud like a so=
ft
star fell;
But impatiently she flung it away =
from
her leaf,
And it fell on her mother like a t=
ear of
grief,
While she folded to her breast, wi=
th
wilful pride,
A glittering fire-fly that hung by=
her
side.
"Heed," said the mother =
rose,
"daughter mine,
Why shouldst thou seek for beauty =
not
thine?
The Father hath made thee what tho=
u now
art;
And what he most loveth is a sweet=
, pure
heart.
Then why dost thou take with such
discontent
The loving gift which he to thee h=
ath
sent?
For the cool fresh dew will render=
thee
far
More lovely and sweet than the bri=
ghtest
star;
They were made for Heaven, and can=
never
come to shine
Like the fire-fly thou hast in that
foolish breast of thine.
O my foolish little bud, do listen=
to
thy mother;
Care only for true beauty, and see=
k for
no other.
There will be grief and trouble in=
that
wilful little heart;
Unfold thy leaves, my daughter, an=
d let
the fly depart."
But the proud little bud would hav=
e her
own will,
And folded the fire-fly more close=
ly
still;
Till the struggling insect tore op=
en the
vest
Of purple and green, that covered =
her
breast.
When the sun came up, she saw with=
grief
The blooming of her sister bud lea=
f by
leaf.
While she, once as fair and bright=
as
the rest,
Hung her weary head down on her wo=
unded
breast.
Bright grew the sunshine, and the =
soft
summer air
Was filled with the music of flowe=
rs
singing there;
But faint grew the little bud with
thirst and pain,
And longed for the cool dew; but n=
ow 't
was in vain.
Then bitterly she wept for her fol=
ly and
pride,
As drooping she stood by her fair
sister's side.
Then the rose mother leaned the we=
ary
little head
On her bosom to rest, and tenderly=
she
said:
"Thon hast learned, my little=
bud,
that, whatever may betide,
Thou canst win thyself no joy by p=
assion
or by pride.
The loving Father sends the sunshi=
ne and
the shower,
That thou mayst become a perfect l=
ittle
flower;--
The sweet dews to feed thee, the s=
oft
wind to cheer,
And the earth as a pleasant home, =
while
thou art dwelling here.
Then shouldst thou not be grateful=
for
all this kindly care,
And strive to keep thyself most in=
nocent
and fair?
Then seek, my little blossom, to w=
in
humility;
Be fair without, be pure within, a=
nd
thou wilt happy be.
So when the quiet Autumn of thy fr=
agrant
life shall come,
Thou mayst pass away, to bloom in =
the
Flower Spirits' home."
Then from the mother's breast, whe=
re it
still lay hid,
Into the fading bud the dew-drop g=
ently
slid;
Stronger grew the little form, and=
happy
tears fell,
As the dew did its silent work, an=
d the
bud grew well,
While the gentle rose leaned, with
motherly pride,
O'er the fair little ones that blo=
omed
at her side.
Night came again, and the fire-fli=
es
flew;
But the bud let them pass, and dra=
nk of
the dew;
While the soft stars shone, from t=
he
still summer heaven,
On the happy little flower that had
learned the lesson given.
The
music-loving Elves clapped their hands, as Star-Twinkle ceased;
and
the Queen placed a flower crown, with a gentle smile, upon the
Fairy's
head, saying,--
"The
little bud's lesson shall teach us how sad a thing is pride,
and
that humility alone can bring true happiness to flower and Fairy.
You
shall come next, Zephyr."
And
the little Fairy, who lay rocking to and fro upon a fluttering
vine-leaf,
thus began her story:--
"As
I lay resting in the bosom of a cowslip that bent above the brook,
a
little wind, tired of play, told me this tale of
ONCE upon a time, two little Fairies went =
out
into the world, to seek their fortune.&nbs=
p;
Thistle-down was as gay and gallant a little Elf as ever spread a
wing. His purple mantle, and
doublet of green, were embroidered with the brightest threads, and the plum=
e in
his cap came always from the wing of the gayest butterfly.
But he was not loved in Fairy-Land, for, l=
ike
the flower whose name and colors he wore, though fair to look upon, many we=
re
the little thorns of cruelty and selfishness that lay concealed by his gay
mantle. Many a gentle flower =
and
harmless bird died by his hand, for he cared for himself alone, and whatever
gave him pleasure must be his, though happy hearts were rendered sad, and
peaceful homes destroyed.
Such was Thistledown; but far different was
his little friend, Lily-Bell. Kind,
compassionate, and loving, wherever her gentle face was seen, joy and grati=
tude
were found; no suffering flower or insect, that did not love and bless the =
kindly
Fairy; and thus all Elf-Land looked upon her as a friend.
Nor did this make her vain and heedless of=
others;
she humb]y dwelt among them, seeking to do all the good she might; and many=
a
houseless bird and hungry insect that Thistledown had harmed did she feed a=
nd shelter,
and in return no evil could befall her, for so many friends were all about =
her,
seeking to repay her tenderness and love by their watchful care.
She would not now have left Fairy-Land, bu=
t to
help and counsel her wild companion, Thistledown, who, discontented with his
quiet home, WOULD seek his fortune in the great world, and she feared he wo=
uld suffer
from his own faults for others would not always be as gentle and forgiving =
as
his kindred. So the kind litt=
le
Fairy left her home and friends to go with him; and thus, side by side, they
flew beneath the bright summer sky.
On and on, over hill and valley, they went,
chasing the gay butterflies, or listening to the bees, as they flew from fl=
ower
to flower like busy little housewives, singing as they worked; till at last
they reached a pleasant garden, filled with flowers and green, old trees.
"See," cried Thistledown, "=
what
a lovely home is here; let us rest among the cool leaves, and hear the flow=
ers
sing, for I am sadly tired and hungry."
So into the quiet garden they went, and the
winds gayly welcomed them, while the flowers nodded on their stems, offering
their bright leaves for the Elves to rest upon, and fresh, sweet honey to
refresh them.
"Now, dear Thistle, do not harm these
friendly blossoms," said Lily-Bell; "see how kindly they spread t=
heir
leaves, and offer us their dew. It would
be very wrong in you to repay their care with cruelty and pain. You will be tender for my sake, de=
ar
Thistle."
Then she went among the flowers, and they =
bent
lovingly before her, and laid their soft leaves against her little face, th=
at
she might see how glad they were to welcome one so good and gentle, and kin=
dly offered
their dew and honey to the weary little Fairy, who sat among their fragrant
petals and looked smilingly on the happy blossoms, who, with their soft, low
voices, sang her to sleep.
While Lily-Bell lay dreaming among the
rose-leaves, Thistledown went wandering through the garden. First he robbed the bees of their =
honey,
and rudely shook the little flowers, that he might get the dew they had
gathered to bathe their buds in.
Then he chased the bright winged flies, and wounded them with the sh=
arp
thorn he carried for a sword; he broke the spider's shining webs, lamed the
birds, and soon wherever he passed lay wounded insects and drooping flowers;
while the winds carried the tidings over the garden, and bird and blossom l=
ooked
upon him as an evil spirit, and fled away or closed their leaves, lest he
should harm them.
Thus he went, leaving sorrow and pain behi=
nd
him, till he came to the roses where Lily-Bell lay sleeping. There, weary of his cruel sport, he
stayed to rest beneath a graceful rose-tree, where grew one blooming flower=
and
a tiny bud.
"Why are you so slow in blooming, lit=
tle
one? You are too old to be rocked in your green cradle longer, and should be
out among your sister flowers," said Thistle, as he lay idly in the sh=
adow
of the tree.
"My little bud is not yet strong enou=
gh
to venture forth," replied the rose, as she bent fondly over it; "=
;the
sunlight and the rain would blight her tender form, were she to blossom now,
but soon she will be fit to bear them; till then she is content to rest bes=
ide
her mother,
and
to wait."
"You silly flower," said
Thistledown, "see how quickly I will make you bloom! your waiting is a=
ll
useless." And speaking t=
hus,
he pulled rudely apart the folded leaves, and laid them open to the sun and
air; while the rose mother implored the cruel Fairy to leave her little bud=
untouched.
"It is my first, my only one," s=
aid
she, "and I have watched over it with such care, hoping it would soon =
bloom
beside me; and now you have destroyed it.&=
nbsp;
How could you harm the little helpless one, that never did aught to
injure you?" And while h=
er
tears fell like summer rain, she drooped in grief above the little bud, and
sadly watched it fading in the sunlight; but Thistledown, heedless of the
sorrow he had given, spread his wings and flew away.
Soon the sky grew dark, and heavy drops be=
gan
to fall. Then Thistle hastene=
d to
the lily, for her cup was deep, and the white leaves fell like curtains over
the fragrant bed; he was a dainty little Elf, and could not sleep among the
clovers and bright buttercups. But when
he asked the flower to unfold her leaves and take him in, she turned her pa=
le,
soft face away, and answered sadly, "I must shield my little drooping
sisters whom you have harmed, and cannot let you in."
Then Thistledown was very angry, and turne=
d to
find shelter among the stately roses; but they showed their sharp thorns, a=
nd,
while their rosy faces glowed with anger, told him to begone, or they would
repay him for the wrong he had done their gentle kindred.
He would have stayed to harm them, but the
rain fell fast, and he hurried away, saying, "The tulips will take me =
in,
for I have praised their beauty, and they are vain and foolish flowers.&quo=
t;
But when he came, all wet and cold, praying
for shelter among their thick leaves, they only laughed and said scornfully,
"We know you, and will not let you in, for you are false and cruel, and
will only bring us sorrow. Yo=
u need
not come to us for another mantle, when the rain has spoilt your fine one; =
and
do not stay here, or we will do you harm."
Then they waved their broad leaves stormil=
y,
and scattered the heavy drops on his dripping garments.
"Now must I go to the humble daisies =
and
blue violets," said Thistle, "they will be glad to let in so fine=
a
Fairy, and I shall die in this cold wind and rain."
So away he flew, as fast as his heavy wings
would bear him, to the daisies; but they nodded their heads wisely, and clo=
sed
their leaves yet closer, saying sharply,--
"Go away with yourself, and do not im=
agine
we will open our leaves to you, and spoil our seeds by letting in the
rain. It serves you rightly; =
to
gain our love and confidence, and repay it by such cruelty! You will find no shelter here for =
one
whose careless hand wounded our little friend Violet, and broke the truest =
heart
that ever beat in a flower's breast.
We are very angry with you, wicked Fairy; go away and hide
yourself."
"Ah," cried the shivering Elf,
"where can I find shelter? I will go to the violets: they will forgive and take me in.&=
quot;
But the daisies had spoken truly; the gent=
le
little flower was dead, and her blue-eyed sisters were weeping bitterly over
her faded leaves.
"Now I have no friends," sighed =
poor
Thistle-down, "and must die of cold.&=
nbsp;
Ah, if I had but minded Lily-Bell, I might now be dreaming beneath s=
ome
flower's leaves."
"Others can forgive and love, beside
Lily-Bell and Violet," said a faint, sweet voice; "I have no litt=
le
bud to shelter now, and you can enter here." It was the rose mother that spoke,=
and
Thistle saw how pale the bright leaves had grown, and how the slender stem =
was bowed. Grieved, ashamed, and wondering at=
the
flower's forgiving words, he laid his weary head on the bosom he had filled
with sorrow, and the fragrant leaves were folded carefully about him.
But he could find no rest. The rose strove to comfort him; bu=
t when
she fancied he was sleeping, thoughts of her lost bud stole in, and the lit=
tle
heart beat so sadly where he lay, that no sleep came; while the bitter tear=
s he
had caused to flow fell more coldly on him than the rain without. Then he heard the other flowers
whispering among themselves of his cruelty, and the sorrow he had brought to
their happy home; and many wondered how the rose, who had suffered most, co=
uld
yet forgive and shelter him.
"Never could I forgive one who had ro=
bbed
me of my children. I could bo=
w my
head and die, but could give no happiness to one who had taken all my
own," said Hyacinth, bending fondly over the little ones that blossome=
d by
her side.
"Dear Violet is not the only one who =
will
leave us," sobbed little Mignonette; "the rose mother will fade l=
ike
her little bud, and we shall lose our gentlest teacher. Her last lesson is forgiveness; le=
t us
show our love for her, and the gentle stranger Lily-Bell, by allowing no un=
kind
word or thought of him who has brought us all this grief."
The angry words were hushed, and through t=
he
long night nothing was heard but the dropping of the rain, and the low sigh=
s of
the rose.
Soon the sunlight came again, and with it
Lily-Bell seeking for Thistledown; but he was ashamed, and stole away.
When the flowers told their sorrow to kind=
-hearted
Lily-Be]l, she wept bitterly at the pain her friend had given, and with lov=
ing
words strove to comfort those whom he had grieved; with gentle care she hea=
led
the wounded birds, and watched above the flowers he had harmed, bringing ea=
ch
day dew and sunlight to refresh and strengthen, till all were well again; a=
nd
though sorrowing for their dead friends, still they forgave Thistle for the
sake of her who had done so much for them.=
Thus, erelong, buds fairer than that she had lost lay on the rose
mother's breast, and for all she had suffered she was well repaid by the lo=
ve
of Lily-Bell and her sister flowers.
And when bird, bee, and blossom were strong
and fair again, the gentle Fairy said farewell, and flew away to seek her
friend, leaving behind many grateful hearts, who owed their joy and life to
her.
Meanwhile, over hill and dale went Thistle=
down,
and for a time was kind and gentle to every living thing. He missed sadly the little friend =
who
had left her happy home to watch over him, but he was too proud to own his
fault, and so went on, hoping she would find him.
One day he fell asleep, and when he woke t=
he
sun had set, and the dew began to fall; the flower-cups were closed, and he=
had
nowhere to go, till a friendly little bee, belated by his heavy load of hon=
ey,
bid the weary Fairy come with him.
"Help me to bear my honey home, and y=
ou
can stay with us tonight," he kindly said.
So Thistle gladly went with him, and soon =
they
came to a pleasant garden, where among the fairest flowers stood the hive,
covered with vines and overhung with blossoming trees. Glow-worms stood at the door to li=
ght
them home, and as they passed in, the Fairy thought how charming it must be=
to
dwell in such a lovely place. The
floor of wax was pure and white as marble, while the walls were formed of
golden honey-comb, and the air was fragrant with the breath of flowers. "You cannot see our Queen
to-night," said the little bee, "but I will show you to a bed whe=
re
you can rest."
And he led the tired Fairy to a little cel=
l,
where on a bed of flower-leaves he folded his wings and fell asleep.
As the first ray of sunlight stole in, he =
was
awakened by sweet music. It was the morning song of the bees.
"Awake! awake! for the earlie=
st
gleam
Of golden sunlig=
ht
shines
On the rippling waves, that
brightly flow
Beneath the flow=
ering
vines.
Awake! awake! for the low, s=
weet
chant
Of the wild-bird=
s' morning
hymn
Comes floating by on the fra=
grant
air,
Through the fore=
st
cool and dim;
Then spread each wing,
And work, and sing,
Through the long, bright sun=
ny
hours;
O'er the pleasant earth
We journey forth,
For a day among the flowers.=
"Awake! awake! for the summer=
wind
Hath bidden the
blossoms unclose,
Hath opened the violet's sof=
t blue
eye,
And wakened the
sleeping rose.
And lightly they wave on the=
ir
slender stems
Fragrant, and fr=
esh,
and fair,
Waiting for us, as we singin=
g come
To gather our
honey-dew there.
Then spread each wing,
And work, and sing,
Through the long, bright sun=
ny
hours;
O'er the pleasant earth
We journey forth,
For a day among the flowers!=
"
Soon his friend came to bid him rise, as t=
he
Queen desired to speak with him.
So, with his purple mantle thrown gracefully over his shoulder, and =
his
little cap held respectfully in his hand, he followed Nimble-Wing to the gr=
eat
hall, where the Queen was being served by her little pages. Some bore her fresh dew and honey,=
some fanned
her with fragrant flower-leaves, while others scattered the sweetest perfum=
es
on the air.
"Little Fairy," said the Queen,
"you are welcome to my palace; and we will gladly have you stay with u=
s,
if you will obey our laws. We do not spend the pleasant summer days in idle=
ness
and pleasure, but each one labors for the happiness and good of all. If our home is beautiful, we have =
made
it so by industry; and here, as one large, loving family, we dwell; no sorr=
ow,
care, or discord can enter in, while all obey the voice of her who seeks to=
be
a wise and gentle Queen to them. If
you will stay with us, we will teach you many things. Order, patience, industry, who can=
teach
so well as they who are the emblems of these virtues?
"Our laws are few and simple. You must each day gather your shar=
e of honey,
see that your cell is sweet and fresh, as you yourself must be; rise with t=
he
sun, and with him to sleep. Y=
ou
must harm no flower in doing your work, nor take more than your just share =
of
honey; for they so kindly give us food, it were most cruel to treat them wi=
th
aught save gentleness and gratitude.
Now will you stay with us, and learn what even mortals seek to know,
that labor brings true happiness?"
And Thistle said he would stay and dwell w=
ith
them; for he was tired of wandering alone, and thought he might live here t=
ill
Lily-Bell should come, or till he was weary of the kind-hearted bees. Then they took away his gay garmen=
ts,
and dressed him like themselves, in the black velvet cloak with golden bands
across his breast.
"Now come with us," they said. So forth into the green fields they
went, and made their breakfast among the dewy flowers; and then till the sun
set they flew from bud to blossom, singing as they went; and Thistle for a
while was happier than when breaking flowers and harming gentle birds.
But he soon grew tired of working all day =
in
the sun, and longed to be free again.
He could find no pleasure with the industrious bees, and sighed to be
away with his idle friends, the butterflies; so while the others worked he
slept or played, and then, in haste to get his share, he tore the flowers, =
and
took all they had saved for their own food. Nor was this all; he told such =
pleasant
tales of the life he led before he came to live with them, that many grew
unhappy and discontented, and they who had before wished no greater joy tha=
n the
love and praise of their kind Queen, now disobeyed and blamed her for all s=
he
had done for them.
Long
she bore with their unkind words and deeds; and when at length she found it=
was
the ungrateful Fairy who had wrought this trouble in her quiet kingdom, she
strove, with sweet, forgiving words, to show him all the wrong he had done;=
but
he would not listen, and still went on destroying the happiness of those who
had done so much for him.
Then,
when she saw that no kindness could touch his heart, she said:--
"Thistledown, we took you in, a frien=
dless
stranger, fed and clothed you, and made our home as pleasant to you as we
could; and in return for all our care, you have brought discontent and trou=
ble
to my subjects, grief and care to me.
I cannot let my peaceful kingdom be disturbed by you; therefore go a=
nd seek
another home. You may find ot=
her
friends, but none will love you more than we, had you been worthy of it; so
farewell." And the doors=
of
the once happy home he had disturbed were closed behind him.
Then he was very angry, and determined to
bring some great sorrow on the good Queen.=
So he sought out the idle, wilful bees, whom he had first made
discontented, bidding them follow him, and win the honey the Queen had stor=
ed
up for the winter.
"Let us feast and make merry in the
pleasant summer-time," said Thistle; "winter is far off, why shou=
ld
we waste these lovely days, toiling to lay up the food we might enjoy now.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> Come, we will take what we have ma=
de,
and think no more of what the Queen has said."
So while the industrious bees were out amo=
ng
the flowers, he led the drones to the hive, and took possession of the hone=
y,
destroying and laying waste the home of the kind bees; then, fearing that in
their grief and anger they might harm him, Thistle flew away to seek new fr=
iends.
After many wanderings, he came at length t=
o a
great forest, and here beside a still lake he stayed to rest. Delicate
wood-flowers grew near him in the deep green moss, with drooping heads, as =
if
they listened to the soft wind sing-ing among the pines. Bright-eyed birds peeped at him fr=
om
their nests, and many-colored insects danced above the cool, still lake.
"This is a pleasant place," said
Thistle; "it shall be my home for a while. Come hither, blue dragon-fly, I wo=
uld
gladly make a friend of you, for I am all alone."
The dragon-fly folded his shining wings be=
side
the Elf, listened to
the
tale he told, promised to befriend the lonely one, and strove to make the
forest a happy home to him.
So here dwelt Thistle, and many kind frien=
ds gathered
round him, for he spoke gently to them, and they knew nothing of the cruel
deeds he had done; and for a while he was happy and content. But at length he grew weary of the
gentle birds, and wild-flowers, and sought new pleasure in destroying the b=
eauty
he was tired of; and soon the friends who had so kindly welcomed him looked
upon him as an evil spirit, and shrunk away as he approached.
At length his friend the dragon-fly besoug= ht him to leave the quiet home he had disturbed. Then Thistle was very angry, and w= hile the dragon-fly was sleeping among the flowers that hung over the lake, he l= ed an ugly spider to the spot, and bade him weave his nets about the sleeping insect, and bind him fast. The cruel spider gladly obeyed the ungrateful Fairy; and soon the poor fly could move neither leg nor wing. Th= en Thistle flew away through the wood, leaving sorrow and trouble behind him.<= o:p>
He had not journeyed far before he grew we=
ary,
and lay down to rest. Long he
slept, and when he awoke, and tried to rise, his hands and wings were bound;
while beside him stood two strange little figures, with dark faces and
garments, that rustled like withered leaves; who cried to him, as he strugg=
led
to get free,--
"Lie still, you naughty Fairy, you ar=
e in
the Brownies' power, and shall be well punished for your cruelty ere we let=
you
go."
So poor Thistle lay sorrowfully, wondering
what would come of it, and wishing Lily-Bell would come to help and comfort
him; but he had left her, and she could not help him now.
Soon a troop of Brownies came rustling thr=
ough
the air, and gathered round him, while one who wore an acorn-cup on his hea=
d,
and was their King, said, as he stood beside the trembling Fairy,--
"You have done many cruel things, and
caused much sorrow to happy hearts; now you are in my power, and I shall ke=
ep
you prisoner till you have repented.
You cannot dwell on the earth without harming the fair things given =
you
to enjoy, so you shall live alone in solitude and darkness, till you have
learned to find happiness in gentle deeds, and forget yourself in giving jo=
y to
others. When you have learned=
this,
I will set you free."
Then the Brownies bore him to a high, dark
rock, and, entering a little door, led him to a small cell, dimly lighted b=
y a
crevice through which came a single gleam of sunlight; and there, through l=
ong,
long days, poor Thistle sat alone, and gazed with wistful eyes at the little
opening, longing to be out on the green earth. No one came to him, but the silent
Brownies who brought his daily food; and with bitter tears he wept for Lily=
-Bell,
mourning his cruelty and selfishness, seeking to do some kindly deed that m=
ight
atone for his wrong-doing.
A little vine that grew outside his prison
rock came creeping up, and looked in through the crevice, as if to cheer the
lonely Fairy, who welcomed it most gladly, and daily sprinkled its soft lea=
ves with
his small share of water, that the little vine might live, even if it darke=
ned
more and more his dim cell.
The watchful Brownies saw this kind deed, =
and
brought him fresh flowers, and many things, which Thistle gratefully receiv=
ed,
though he never knew it was his kindness to the vine that gained for him th=
ese
pleasures.
Thus did poor Thistle strive to be more ge=
ntle
and unselfish, and grew daily happier and better.
Now while Thistledown was a captive in the
lonely cell, Lily-Bell was seeking him far and wide, and sadly traced him by
the sorrowing hearts he had left behind.
She healed the drooping flowers, cheered t=
he
Queen Bee's grief, brought back her discontented subjects, restored the hom=
e to
peace and order, and left them blessing her.
Thus she journeyed on, till she reached the
forest where Thistledown had lost his freedom. She unbound the starving dragon-fl=
y, and
tended the wounded birds; but though all learned to love her, none could te=
ll where
the Brownies had borne her friend, till a little wind came whispering by, a=
nd
told her that a sweet voice had been heard, singing Fairy songs, deep in a
moss-grown rock.
Then Lily-Bell went seeking through the
forest, listening for the voice.
Long she looked and listened in vain; when one day, as she was wande=
ring
through a lonely dell, she heard a faint, low sound of music, and soon a
distant voice mournfully singing,--
"Bright shines the summer sun,=
Soft is the summer air=
;
Gayly the wood-birds sing,
Flowers are blooming f=
air.
"But, deep in the dark, cold r=
ock,
Sadly I dwell,
Longing for thee, dear friend,
Lily-Bell! Lily-Bell!&=
quot;
"Thistle, dear Thistle, where are you=
?"
joyfully cried Lily-Bell, as she flew from rock to rock. But the voice was still, and she w=
ould
have looked in vain, had she not seen a little vine, whose green leaves
fluttering to and fro seemed beckoning her to come; and as she stood among =
its
flowers she sang,--
"Through sunlight and summer a=
ir
I have sought for thee=
long,
Guided by birds and flowers,
And now by thy song.
"Thistledown! Thistledown!
O'er hill and dell
Hither to comfort thee
Comes Lily-Bell."=
Then from the vine-leaves two little arms =
were
stretched out to her, and Thistledown was found. So Lily-Bell made her home in the =
shadow
of the vine, and brought such joy to Thistle, that his lonely cell seemed
pleasanter to him than all the world beside; and he grew daily more like his
gentle friend. But it did not=
last
long, for one day she did not come.
He watched and waited long, for the little face that used to peep
smiling in through the vine-leaves.
He called and beckoned through the narrow opening, but no Lily-Bell
answered; and he wept sadly as he thought of all she had done for him, and =
that
now he could not go to seek and help her, for he had lost his freedom by his
own cruel and wicked deeds.
At last he besought the silent Brownie
earnestly to tell him whither she had gone.
"O let me go to her," prayed Thi=
stle;
"if she is in sorrow, I will comfort her, and show my gratitude for all
she has done for me: dear Bro=
wnie,
set me free, and when she is found I will come and be your prisoner again.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> I will bear and suffer any danger =
for
her sake."
"Lily-Bell is safe," replied the=
Brownie;
"come, you shall learn the trial that awaits you."
Then he led the wondering Fairy from his
prison, to a group of tall, drooping ferns, beneath whose shade a large whi=
te
lily had been placed, forming a little tent, within which, on a couch of th=
ick
green moss, lay Lily-Bell in a deep sleep; the sunlight stole softly in, and
all was cool and still.
"You cannot wake her," said the =
Brownie,
as Thistle folded his arms tenderly about her. "It is a magic slumber, and s=
he
will not wake till you shall bring hither gifts from the Earth, Air, and Wa=
ter Spirits. 'T is a long and weary task, for y=
ou
have made no friends to help you, and will have to seek for them alone. This is the trial we shall give yo=
u; and
if your love for Lily-Bell be strong enough to keep you from all cruelty and
selfishness, and make you kind and loving as you should be, she will awake =
to
welcome you, and love you still more fondly than before."
Then Thistle, with a last look on the litt=
le
friend he loved so well, set forth alone to his long task.
The home of the Earth Spirits was the firs=
t to
find, and no one would tell him where to look. So far and wide he wandered, throu=
gh gloomy
forests and among lonely hills, with none to cheer him when sad and weary, =
none
to guide him on his way.
On he went, thinking of Lily-Bell, and for=
her
sake bearing all; for in his quiet prison many gentle feelings and kindly
thoughts had sprung up in his heart, and he now strove to be friends with a=
ll,
and win for himself the love and confidence of those whom once he sought to
harm and cruelly destroy.
But few believed him; for they remembered =
his
false promises and evil deeds, and would not trust him now; so poor Thistle
found few to love or care for him.
Long he wandered, and carefully he sought;=
but
could not find the Earth Spirits' home.&nb=
sp;
And when at length he reached the pleasant garden where he and Lily-=
Bell
first parted, he said within himself,--
"Here I will stay awhile, and try to =
win
by kindly deeds the flowers' forgiveness for the pain and sorrow I brought =
them
long ago; and they may learn to love and trust me. So, even if I never find the Spiri=
ts, I
shall be worthier Lily-Bell's affection if I strive to atone for the wrong I
have done."
Then he went among the flowers, but they
closed their leaves, and shrank away, trembling with fear; while the birds =
fled
to hide among the leaves as he passed.
This grieved poor Thistle, and he longed to
tell them how changed he had become; but they would not listen. So he tried to show, by quiet deed=
s of
kindness, that he meant no harm to them; and soon the kind-hearted birds pi=
tied
the lonely Fairy, and when he came near sang cheering songs, and dropped ri=
pe
berries in his path, for he no longer broke their eggs, or hurt their little
ones.
And
when the flowers saw this, and found the once cruel Elf now watering and
tending little buds, feeding hungry insects, and helping the busy ants to b=
ear
their heavy loads, they shared the pity of the birds, and longed to trust h=
im;
but they dared not yet.
He came one day, while wandering through t=
he
garden, to the little rose he had once harmed so sadly. Many buds now bloomed beside her, =
and
her soft face glowed with motherly pride, as she bent fondly over them. But when Thistle came, he saw with
sorrow how she bade them close their green curtains, and conceal themselves
beneath the leaves, for there was danger near; and, drooping still more clo=
sely
over them, she seemed to wait with trembling fear the cruel Fairy's coming.=
But no rude hand tore her little ones away=
, no
unkind words were spoken; but a soft shower of dew fell lightly on them, and
Thistle, bending tenderly above them, said,--
"Dear flower, forgive the sorrow I on=
ce
brought you, and trust me now for Lily-Bell's sake. Her gentleness has changed my crue=
lty to
kindness, and I would gladly repay all for the harm I have done; but none w=
ill
love and trust me now."
Then the little rose looked up, and while =
the
dew-drops shone like happy tears upon her leaves, she said,--
"I WILL love and trust you, Thistle, =
for
you are indeed much changed. =
Make
your home among us, and my sister flowers will soon
learn
to love you as you deserve. N=
ot for
sweet Lily-Bell's sake, but for your own, will I become your friend; for you
are kind and gentle now, and worthy of our love. Look up, my little ones, there is =
no
danger near; look up, and welcome Thistle to our home."
Then the little buds raised their rosy fac=
es,
danced again upon their stems, and nodded kindly at Thistle, who smiled on =
them
through happy tears, and kissed the sweet, forgiving rose, who loved and tr=
usted
him when most forlorn and friendless.
But the other flowers wondered among thems=
elves,
and Hyacinth said,--
"If Rose-Leaf is his friend, surely w=
e may
be; yet still I fear he may soon grow weary of this gentleness, and be again
the wicked Fairy he once was, and we shall suffer for our kindness to him
now."
"Ah, do not doubt him!" cried
warm-hearted little Mignonette; "surely some good spirit has changed t=
he
wicked Thistle into this good little Elf.&=
nbsp;
See how tenderly he lifts aside the leaves that overshadow pale Hare=
bell,
and listen now how softly he sings as he rocks little Eglantine to sleep. He has done many friendly things, =
though
none save Rose-Leaf has been kind to him, and he is very sad. Last night when I awoke to draw my
curtains closer, he sat weeping in the moonlight, so bitterly, I longed to
speak a kindly word to him. Dear sisters, let us trust him."
And they all said little Mignonette was ri=
ght;
and, spreading wide their leaves, they bade him come, and drink their dew, =
and
lie among the fragrant petals, striving to cheer his sorrow. Thistle told them all, and, after =
much
whispering together, they said,--
"Yes, we will help you to find the Ea=
rth
Spirits, for you are striving to be good, and for love of Lily-Bell we will=
do
much for you."
So they called a little bright-eyed mole, =
and
said, "Downy-Back, we have given you a pleasant home among our roots, =
and
you are a grateful little friend; so will you guide dear Thistle to the Ear=
th
Spirits' home?"
Downy-Back said, "Yes," and This=
tle,
thanking the kindly flowers, followed his little guide, through long, dark
galleries, deeper and deeper into the ground; while a glow-worm flew before=
to
light the way. On they went, =
and
after a while, reached a path lit up by bright jewels hung upon the walls.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> Here Downy-Back, and Glimmer, the
glow-worm, left him, saying,--
"We can lead you no farther; you must=
now
go on alone, and the music of the Spirits will guide you to their home.&quo=
t;
Then they went quickly up the winding path,
and Thistle, guided by the sweet music, went on alone.
He soon reached a lovely spot, whose golde=
n halls
were bright with jewels, which sparkled brightly, and threw many-colored
shadows on the shining garments of the little Spirits, who danced below to =
the
melody of soft, silvery bells.
Long Thistle stood watching the brilliant
forms that flashed and sparkled round him; but he missed the flowers and the
sunlight, and rejoiced that he was not an Earth Spirit.
At last they spied him out, and, gladly
welcoming him, bade him join in their dance. But Thistledown was too sad for th=
at,
and when he told them all his story they no longer urged, but sought to com=
fort
him; and one whom they called little Sparkle (for her crown and robe shone =
with
the brightest diamonds), said:
"You will have to work for us, ere you can win a gift to show t=
he
Brownies; do you see those golden bells that make such music, as we wave th=
em
to and fro? We worked long and hard ere they were won, and you can win one =
of those,
if you will do the task we give you."
And Thistle said, "No task will be too
hard for me to do for dear Lily-Bell's sake."
Then they led him to a strange, dark place,
lit up with torches; where troops of Spirits flew busily to and fro, among =
damp
rocks, and through dark galleries that led far down into the earth. "What do they here?" ask=
ed
Thistle.
"I will tell," replied little Sp=
arkle,
"for I once worked here myself.
Some of them watch above the flower-roots, and keep them fresh and
strong; others gather the clear drops that trickle from the damp rocks, and
form a little spring, which, growing ever larger, rises to the light above,=
and
gushes forth in some green field or lonely forest; where the wild-birds com=
e to
drink, and wood-flowers spread their thirsty leaves above the clear, cool
waves, as they go dancing away, carrying joy and freshness wherever they
go. Others shape the bright j=
ewels
into lovely forms, and make the good-luck pennies which we give to mortals =
whom
we love. And here you must to=
il till
the golden flower is won."
Then Thistle went among the Spirits, and
joined in their tasks; he tended the flower-roots, gathered the water-drops,
and formed the good-luck pennies.
Long and hard he worked, and was often sad and weary, often tempted =
by
unkind and selfish thoughts; but he thought of Lily-Bell, and strove to be =
kind
and loving as she had been; and soon the Spirits learned to love the patient
Fairy, who had left his home to toil among them for the sake of his gentle
friend.
At
length came little Sparkle to him, saying, "You have done enough; come
now, and dance and feast with us, for the golden flower is won."
But Thistle could not stay, for half his t=
ask
was not yet done; and he longed for sunlight and Lily-Bell. So, taking a kind farewell, he has=
tened
through the torch-lit path up to the light again; and, spreading his wings,
flew over hill and dale till he reached the forest where Lily-Bell lay
sleeping.
It was early morning, and the rosy light s=
hone
brightly through the lily-leaves upon her, as Thistle entered, and laid his
first gift at the Brownie King's feet.
"You have done well," said he,
"we hear good tidings of you from bird and flower, and you are truly
seeking to repair the evil you have done.&=
nbsp;
Take now one look at your little friend, and then go forth to seek f=
rom
the Air Spirits your second gift."
Then Thistle said farewell again to Lily-B=
ell,
and flew far and wide among the clouds, seeking the Air Spirits; but though=
he
wandered till his weary wings could bear him no longer, it was in vain. So, faint and sad, he lay down to =
rest
on a broad vine-leaf, that fluttered gently in the wind; and as he lay, he =
saw
beneath him the home of the kind bees whom he had so disturbed, and Lily-Be=
ll
had helped
and
comforted.
"I will seek to win their pardon, and
show them that I am no longer the cruel Fairy who so harmed them," tho=
ught
Thistle, "and when they become again my friends, I will ask their help=
to
find the Air Spirits; and if I deserve it, they will gladly aid me on my
way."
So he flew down into the field below, and
hastened busily from flower to flower, till he had filled a tiny blue-bell =
with
sweet, fresh honey. Then he s=
tole
softly to the hive, and, placing it near the door, concealed himself to
watch. Soon his friend Nimble=
-Wing came
flying home, and when he spied the little cup, he hummed with joy, and call=
ed
his companions around him.
"Surely, some good Elf has placed it =
here
for us," said they; "let us bear it to our Queen; it is so fresh =
and
fragrant it will be a fit gift for her"; and they joyfully took it in,
little dreaming who had placed it there.
So each day Thistle filled a flower-cup, a=
nd
laid it at the door; and each=
day
the bees wondered more and more, for many strange things happened. The field-flowers told of the good
spirit who watched above them, and the birds sang of the same kind little E=
lf
bringing soft moss for their nests, and food for their hungry young ones; w=
hile
all around the hive had grown fairer since the Fairy came.
But the bees never saw him, for he feared =
he
had not yet done enough to win their forgiveness and friendship; so he lived
alone among the vines, daily bringing them honey, and doing some kindly act=
ion.
At length, as he lay sleeping in a
flower-bell, a little bee came wandering by, and knew him for the wicked
Thistle; so he called his friends, and, as they flew murmuring around him, =
he
awoke.
"What shall we do to you, naughty
Elf?" said they. "Y=
ou are
in our power, and we will sting you if you are not still."
"Let us close the flower-leaves around
him and leave him here to starve," cried one, who had not yet forgotten
all the sorrow Thistle had caused them long ago.
"No, no, that were very cruel, dear B=
uzz,"
said little Hum; "let us take him to our Queen, and she will tell us h=
ow
to show our anger for the wicked deeds he did. See how bitterly he weeps; be kind=
to him,
he will not harm us more.
"You good little Hum!" cried a
kind-hearted robin who had hopped near to listen to the bees. "Dear friends, do you not kno=
w that
this is the good Fairy who has dwelt so quietly among us, watching over bir=
d and
blossom, giving joy to all he helps?
It is HE who brings the honey-cup each day to you, and then goes
silently away, that you may never know who works so faithfully for you. Be kind to him, for if he has done
wrong, he has repented of it, as you may see."
"Can
this be naughty Thistle?" said Nimble-Wing.
"Yes, it is I," said Thistle,
"but no longer cruel and unkind.
I have tried to win your love by patient industry. Ah, trust me now, and you shall se=
e I am
not naughty Thistle any more."
Then the wondering bees led him to their
Queen, and when he had told his tale, and begged their forgiveness, it was
gladly given; and all strove to show him that he was loved and trusted. Then he asked if they could tell h=
im
where the Air Spirits dwelt, for he must not forget dear Lily-Bell; and to =
his
great joy the Queen said, "Yes," and bade little Hum guide Thistl=
e to
Cloud-Land.
Little Hum joyfully obeyed; and Thistle
followed him, as he flew higher and higher among the soft clouds, till in t=
he
distance they saw a radiant light.
"There is their home, and I must leave
you now, dear Thistle," said the little bee; and, bidding him farewell=
, he
flew singing back; while Thistle, following the light, soon found himself in
the Air Spirits'
home.
The sky was gold and purple like an autumn
sunset, and long walls of brilliant clouds lay round him. A rosy light shone through the sil=
ver mist,
on gleaming columns and the rainbow roof; soft, fragrant winds went whisper=
ing
by, and airy little forms were flitting to and fro.
Long Thistle wondered at the beauty round =
him;
and then he went among the shining Spirits, told his tale, and asked a gift=
.
But they answered like the Earth Spirits.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> "You must serve us first, and=
then
we will gladly give you a robe of sunlight like our own "
And then they told him how they wafted
flower-seeds over the earth, to beautify and brighten lonely spots; how they
watched above the blossoms by day, and scattered dews at night, brought
sunlight into darkened places, and soft winds to refresh and cheer.
"These are the things we do," sa=
id
they, " and you must aid us for a time."
And Thistle gladly went with the lovely
Spirits; by day he joined the sunlight and the breeze in their silent work;=
by
night, with Star-Light and her sister spirits, he flew over the moon-lit ea=
rth,
dropping cool dew upon the folded flowers, and bringing happy dreams to
sleeping mortals. Many a kind=
deed
was done, many a gentle word was spoken; and each day lighter grew his hear=
t,
and stronger his power of giving joy to others.
At length Star-Light bade him work no more,
and gladly gave him the gift he had won.&n=
bsp;
Then his second task was done, and he flew gayly back to the green e=
arth
and slumbering Lily-Bell.
The silvery moonlight shone upon her, as he
came to give his second gift; and the Brownie spoke more kindly than before=
.
"One more trial, Thistle, and she will
awake. Go bravely forth and w=
in
your last and hardest gift."
Then with a light heart Thistle journeyed =
away
to the brooks and rivers, seeking the Water Spirits. But he looked in vain; till, wande=
ring
through the forest where the Brownies took him captive, he stopped beside t=
he
quiet lake.
As he stood here he heard a sound of pain,
and, looking in the tall grass at his side, he saw the dragon-fly whose kin=
dness
he once repayed by pain and sorrow, and who now lay suffering and alone.
Thistle bent tenderly beside him, saying,
"Dear Flutter, do not fear me.
I will gladly ease your pain, if you will let me; I am your friend, =
and
long to show you how I grieve for all the wrong I did you, when you were so
kind to me. Forgive, and let =
me
help and comfort
you."
Then he bound up the broken wing, and spok=
e so
tenderly that Flutter doubted him no longer, and was his friend again.
Day by day did Thistle watch beside him,
making little beds of cool, fresh moss for him to rest upon, fanning him wh=
en
he slept, and singing sweet songs to cheer him when awake. And often when poor Flutter longed=
to be
dancing once again over the blue waves, the Fairy bore him in his arms to t=
he
lake, and on a broad leaf, with a green flag for a sail, they floated on the
still water; while the dragon-fly's companions flew about them, playing mer=
ry
games.
At length the broken wing was well, and Th=
istle
said he must again seek the Water Spirits.=
"I can tell you where to find them," said Flutter; "y=
ou
must follow yonder little brook, and it will lead you to the sea, where the
Spirits dwell. I would gladly=
do
more for you, dear Thistle, but I cannot, for they live deep beneath the wa=
ves.
You will find some kind friend to aid you on your way; and so farewell.&quo=
t;
Thistle followed the little brook, as it
flowed through field and valley, growing ever larger, till it reached the
sea. Here the wind blew fresh=
ly,
and the great waves rolled and broke at Thistle's feet, as he stood upon the
shore, watching the billows dancing and sparkling in the sun.
"How shall I find the Spirits in this=
great
sea, with none to help or guide me? Yet it is my last task, and for Lily-Be=
ll's
sake I must not fear or falter now," said Thistle. So he flew hither and thither over=
the
sea, looking through the waves.
Soon he saw, far below, the branches of the coral tree.
"They must be here," thought he,
and, folding his wings, he plunged into the deep, cold sea. But he saw only fearful monsters a=
nd
dark shapes that gathered round him; and, trembling with fear, he struggled=
up
again.
The great waves tossed him to and fro, and
cast him bruised and faint upon the shore.=
Here he lay weeping bitterly, till a voice beside him said, "Po=
or
little Elf, what has befallen you?
These rough waves are not fit playmates for so delicate a thing as
you. Tell me your sorrow, and=
I
will comfort you."
And Thistle, looking up, saw a white sea-b=
ird
at his side, who tried with friendly words to cheer him. So he told all his wanderings, and =
how he
sought the Sea Spirits.
"Surely, if bee and blossom do their =
part
to help you, birds should aid you too," said the Sea-bird. "I will call my friend, the N=
autilus,
and he will bear you safely to the Coral Palace where the Spirits dwell.&qu=
ot;
So, spreading his great wings, he flew awa=
y,
and soon Thistle saw a little boat come dancing over the waves, and wait be=
side
the shore for him.
In he sprang. Nautilus raised his little sail to=
the wind,
and the light boat glided swiftly over the blue sea. At last Thistle cried, "I see
lovely arches far below; let me go, it is the Spirits' home."
"Nay, close your eyes, and trust to m=
e. I will bear you safely down,"=
said
Nautilus.
So Thistle closed his eyes, and listened to
the murmur of the sea, as they sank slowly through the waves. The soft sound lulled him to sleep=
, and
when he awoke the boat was gone, and he stood among the Water Spirits, in t=
heir
strange and lovely home.
Lofty
arches of snow-white coral bent above him, and the walls of brightly tinted
shells were wreathed with lovely sea-flowers, and the sunlight shining on t=
he
waves cast silvery shadows on the ground, where sparkling stones glowed in =
the sand. A cool, fresh wind swept through t=
he
waving garlands of bright sea-moss, and the distant murmur of dashing waves
came softly on the air. Soon =
troops
of graceful Spirits flitted by, and when they found the wondering Elf, they=
gathered
round him, bringing pearl-shells heaped with precious stones, and all the r=
are,
strange gifts that lie beneath the sea.&nb=
sp;
But Thistle wished for none of these, and when his tale was told, the
kindly Spirits pitied him; and little Pearl sighed, as she told him of the =
long
and weary task he must perform, ere he could win a crown of snow-white pear=
ls
like those they wore. But Thi=
stle
had gained strength and courage in his wanderings, and did not falter now, =
when
they led bim to a place among the coral-workers, and told him he must labor
here, till the spreading branches reached the light and air, through the wa=
ves
that danced above.
With a patient hope that he might yet be
worthy of Lily-Bell, the Fairy left the lovely spirits and their pleasant h=
ome,
to toil among the coral-builders, where all was strange and dim. Long, long, he worked; but still t=
he
waves rolled far above them, and his task was not yet done; and many bitter
tears poor Thistle shed, and sadly he pined for air and sunlight, the voice=
of
birds, and breath of flowers. Often, folded in the magic garments which the
Spirits gave him, that he might pass unharmed among the fearful creatures
dwelling there, he rose to the surface of the sea, and, gliding through the
waves, gazed longingly upon the hills, now looking blue and dim so far away=
, or
watched the flocks of summer birds, journeying to a warmer land; and they
brought sad memories of green old forests, and sunny fields, to the lonely
little Fairy floating on the great, wild sea.
Day after day went by, and slowly Thistle's
task drew towards an end. Busily toiled the coral-workers, but more busily
toiled he; insect and Spirit daily wondered more and more, at the industry =
and
patience of the silent little Elf, who had a friendly word for all, though =
he
never joined them in their sport.
Higher and higher grew the coral-boughs, a=
nd
lighter grew the Fairy's heart, while thoughts of dear Lily-Bell cheered him
on, as day by day he steadily toiled; and when at length the sun shone on h=
is
work, and it was done, he stayed but to take the garland he had won, and to
thank the good Spirits for their love and care. Then up through the cold, blue wav=
es he
swiftly glided, and, shaking the bright drops from his wings, soared singin=
g up
to the sunny sky.
=
span>On
through the fragrant air went Thistle, looking with glad face upon the fair,
fresh earth below, where flowers looked smiling up, and green trees bowed t=
heir
graceful heads as if to welcome him.
Soon the forest where Lily-Bell lay sleeping rose before him, and as=
he passed along the cool, dim wood-pat=
hs,
never had they seemed so fair.
But when he came where his little friend h=
ad
slept, it was no longer the dark, silent spot where he last saw her. Garlands hung from every tree, and=
the
fairest flowers filled the air with their sweet breath. Bird's gay voices
echoed far and wide, and the little brook went singing by, beneath the arch=
ing ferns
that bent above it; green leaves rustled in the summer wind, and the air was
full of music. But the fairest sight was Lily-Bell, as she lay on the couch=
of velvet
moss that Fairy hands had spread.
The golden flower lay beside her, and the glittering robe was folded
round her little form. The wa=
rmest
sunlight fell upon her, and the softest breezes lifted her shining hair.
Happy tears fell fast, as Thistle folded h=
is
arms around her, crying, "O Lily-Bell, dear Lily-Bell, awake! I have b=
een
true to you, and now my task is done."
Then, with a smile, Lily-Bell awoke, and
looked with wondering eyes upon the beauty that had risen round her.
"Dear Thistle, what mean these fair
things, and why are we in this lovely place?"
"Listen, Lily-Bell," said the
Brownie King, as he appeared beside her. And then he told all that Thistle =
had
done to show his love for her; how he had wandered far and wide to seek the
Fairy gifts, and toiled long and hard to win them; how he had been loving,
true, and tender, when most lonely and forsaken.
"Bird, bee, and blossom have forgiven
him, and none is more loved and trusted now by all, than the once cruel
Thistle," said the King, as he bent down to the happy Elf, who bowed l=
ow
before him.
"You have learned the beauty of a gen=
tle,
kindly heart, dear Thistle; and you are now worthy to become the friend of =
her
for whom you have done so much.
Place the crown upon her head, for she is Queen of all the Forest
Fairies now."
And as the crown shone on the head that
Lily-Bell bent down on Thistle's breast, the forest seemed alive with little
forms, who
sprang
from flower and leaf, and gathered round her, bringing gifts for their new
Queen.
"If I am Queen, then you are King, de=
ar
Thistle," said the Fairy. "Take
the crown, and I will have a wreath of flowers. You have toiled and suffered for my
sake, and you alone should rule over these little
Elves
whose love you have won."
"Keep your crown, Lily-Bell, for yond=
er
come the Spirits with their gifts to Thistle," said the Brownie. And, as he pointed with his wand, o=
ut
from among the mossy roots of an old tree came trooping the Earth Spirits,
their flower-bells ringing softly as they came, and their jewelled garments
glittering in the sun. On to =
where Thistledown
stood beneath the shadow of the flowers, with Lily-Bell beside him, went the
Spirits; and then forth sprang little Sparkle, waving a golden flower, whose
silvery music filled the air.
"Dear Thistle," said the shining Spirit, "what you to=
iled
so faithfully to win for another, let us offer now as a token of our love f=
or
you."
As she ceased, down through the air came
floating bands of lovely Air Spirits, bringing a shining robe, and they too
told their love for the gentle Fairy who had dwelt with them.
Then softly on the breeze came distant mus=
ic,
growing ever nearer, till over the rippling waves came the singing Water
Spirits, in their boats of many-colored shells; and as they placed their
glittering crown on Thistle's head, loud rang the flowers, and joyously san=
g the
birds, while all the Forest Fairies cried, with silvery voices, "Lily-=
Bell
and Thistledown! Long live ou=
r King
and Queen!"
"Have you a tale for us too, dear Vio=
let-Eye?"
said the Queen, as Zephyr ceased.
The little Elf thus named looked from among the flower-leaves where =
she
sat, and with a smile replied, "As I was weaving garlands in the field=
, I heard
a primrose tell this tale to her friend Golden-Rod."
IN a great forest, high up among the green
boughs, lived Bird Brown-Breast, and his bright-eyed little mate. They were now very happy; their ho=
me was
done, the four blue eggs lay in the soft nest, and the little wife sat still
and patient on them, while the husband sang, and told her charming tales, a=
nd
brought her sweet berries and little worms.
Things went smoothly on, till one day she
found in the nest a little white egg, with a golden band about it.
"My friend," cried she, "co=
me
and see! Where can this fine =
egg
have come from? My four are h=
ere,
and this also; what think you of it?"
The husband shook his head gravely, and sa=
id,
"Be not alarmed, my love; it is doubtless some good Fairy who has give=
n us
this, and we shall find some gift within; do not let us touch it, but do you
sit carefully upon it, and we shall see in time what has been sent us."=
;
So they said nothing about it, and soon th=
eir
home had four little chirping children; and then the white egg opened, and,
behold, a little maiden lay singing within. Then how amazed were they, and how=
they
welcomed her, as she lay warm beneath the mother's wing, and how the young
birds did love her.
Great joy was in the forest, and proud were
the parents of their family, and still more of the little one who had come =
to
them; while all the neighbors flocked in, to see Dame Brown-Breast's little
child. And the tiny maiden ta=
lked
to them, and sang so merrily, that they could have listened for ever. Soon she was the joy of the whole
forest, dancing from tree to tree, making every nest her home, and none were
ever so welcome as little Bud; and so they lived right merrily in the green=
old
forest.
The father now had much to do to supply his
family with food, and choice morsels did he bring little Bud. The wild fruits were her food, the=
fresh
dew in the flower-cups her drink, while the green leaves served her for lit=
tle
robes; and thus she found garments in the flowers of the field, and a happy
home with Mother Brown-Breast; and all in the wood, from the stately trees =
to
the little mosses in the turf, were friends to the merry child.
And each day she taught the young birds sw=
eet
songs, and as their gay music rang through the old forest, the stern, dark
pines ceased their solemn waving, that they might hear the soft sounds stea=
ling
through the dim wood-paths, and mortal children came to listen, saying soft=
ly, "Hear
the flowers sing, and touch them not, for the Fairies are here."
Then came a band of sad little Elves to Bu=
d,
praying that they might hear the sweet music; and when she took them by the
hand, and spoke gently to them, they wept and said sadly, when she asked th=
em
whence they came,--
"We dwelt once in Fairy-Land, and O h=
ow
happy were we then! But alas! we were not worthy of so fair a home, and were
sent forth into the cold world.
Look at our robes, they are like the withered leaves; our wings are =
dim,
our crowns are gone, and we lead sad, lonely lives in this dark forest. Let us stay with you; your gay mus=
ic
sounds like Fairy songs, and you have such a friendly way with you, and spe=
ak so
gently to us. It is good to b=
e near
one so lovely and so kind; and you can tell us how we may again become fair=
and
innocent. Say we may stay wit=
h you,
kind little maiden."
And Bud said, "Yes," and they
stayed; but her kind little heart was grieved that they wept so sadly, and =
all
she could say could not make them happy; till at last she said,--
"Do not weep, and I will go to Queen
Dew-Drop, and beseech her to let you come back. I will tell her that you are repen=
tant, and
will do anything to gain her love again; that you are sad, and long to be
forgiven. This will I say, and
more, and trust she will grant my prayer."
"She will not say no to you, dear Bud=
,"
said the poor little Fairies; "she will love you as we do, and if we c=
an
but come again to our lost home, we cannot give you thanks enough. Go, Bud, and if there be power in =
Fairy
gifts, you shall be as happy as our hearts' best love can make you."
The tidings of Bud's departure flew throug=
h the
forest, and all her friends came to say farewell, as with the morning sun s=
he
would go; and each brought some little gift, for the land of Fairies was far
away, and she must journey long.
"Nay, you shall not go on your feet, =
my
child," said Mother Brown-Breast; "your friend Golden-Wing shall
carry you. Call him hither, t=
hat I
may seat you rightly, for if you should fall off my heart would break."=
;
Then up came Golden-Wing, and Bud was safe=
ly
seated on the cushion of violet-leaves; and it was really charming to see h=
er
merry little face, peeping from under the broad brim of her cow-slip hat, a=
s her
butterfly steed stood waving his bright wings in the sunlight. Then came the bee with his yellow h=
oney-bags,
which he begged she would take, and the little brown spider that lived under
the great leaves brought a veil for her hat, and besought her to wear it, l=
est
the sun should shine too brightly; while the ant came bringing a tiny
strawberry, lest she should miss her favorite fruit. The mother gave her good advice, a=
nd the
papa stood with his head on one side, and his round eyes twinkling with
delight, to think that his little Bud was going to Fairy-Land.
Then they all sang gayly together, till she
passed out of sight over the hills, and they saw her no more.
And now Bud left the old forest far behind
her. Golden-Wing bore her swi=
ftly
along, and she looked down on the green mountains, and the peasant's cottag=
es,
that stood among overshadowing trees; and the earth looked bright, with its
broad, blue rivers winding through soft meadows, the singing birds, and
flowers, who kept their bright eyes ever on the sky.
And she sang gayly as they floated in the
clear air, while her friend kept time with his waving wings, and ever as th=
ey
went along all grew fairer; and thus they came to Fairy-Land.
As Bud passed through the gates, she no lo=
nger
wondered that the exiled Fairies wept and sorrowed for the lovely home they=
had
lost. Bright clouds floated i=
n the
sunny sky, casting a rainbow light on the Fairy palaces below, where the El=
ves
were dancing; while the low, sweet voices of the singing flowers sounded so=
ftly
through the fragrant air, and mingled with the music of the rippling waves,=
as they
flowed on beneath the blossoming vines that drooped above them.
All was bright and beautiful; but kind lit=
tle
Bud would not linger, for the forms of the weeping Fairies were before her;=
and
though the blossoms nodded gayly on their stems to welcome her, and the soft
winds kissed her cheek, she would not stay, but on to the Flower Palace she
went, into a pleasant hall whose walls were formed of crimson roses, amid w=
hose
leaves sat little Elves, making sweet music on their harps. When they saw Bud, they gathered r=
ound
her, and led her through the flower-wreathed arches to a group of the most
beautiful Fairies, who were gathered about a stately lily, in whose fragrant
cup sat one whose purple robe and glittering crown told she was their Queen=
.
Bud knelt before her, and, while tears
streamed down her little face, she told her errand, and pleaded earnestly t=
hat
the exiled Fairies might be forgiven, and not be left to pine far from their
friends and kindred. And as s=
he
prayed, many wept with her; and when she ceased, and waited for her answer,
many knelt beside her, praying forgiveness for the unhappy Elves.
With tearful eyes, Queen Dew-Drop replied,=
--
"Little maiden, your prayer has softe=
ned
my heart. They shall not be l=
eft
sorrowing and alone, nor shall you go back without a kindly word to cheer a=
nd
comfort them. We will pardon =
their
fault, and when they can bring
hither a perfect Fairy crown, robe, and wand, they shall be again received =
as
children of their loving Queen. The
task is hard, for none but the best and purest can form the Fairy garments;=
yet
with patience they may yet restore their robes to their former brightness. =
Farewell, good little maiden; come =
with
them, for but for you they would have dwelt for ever without the walls of
Fairy-Land."
"Good speed to you, and farewell,&quo=
t; cried
they all, as, with loving messages to their poor friends, they bore her to =
the
gates.
=
span>Day
after day toiled little Bud, cheering the Fairies, who, angry and disappoin=
ted,
would not listen to her gentle words, but turned away and sat alone weeping=
. They grieved her kind heart with m=
any
cruel words; but patiently she bore with them, and when they told her they
could never perform so hard a task, and must dwell for ever in the dark for=
est,
she answered gently, that the snow-white lily must be planted, and watered =
with
repentant tears, before the robe of innocence could be won; that the sun of
love must shine in their hearts, before the light could return to their dim
crowns, and deeds of kindness must be performed, ere the power would come a=
gain
to their now useless wands.
Then they planted the lilies; but they soon
drooped and died, and no light came to their crowns. They did no gentle deeds, but care=
d only
for themselves; and when they found their labor was in vain, they tried no
longer, but sat weeping. Bud,=
with
ceaseless toil and patient care, tended the lilies, which bloomed brightly,=
the
crowns grew bright, and in her hands the wands had power over birds and blo=
ssoms,
for she was striving to give happiness to others, forgetful of herself. And the idle Fairies, with thankful
words, took the garments from her, and then with Bud went forth to Fairy-La=
nd, and
stood with beating hearts before the gates; where crowds of Fairy
friends
came forth to welcome them.
But when Queen Dew-Drop touched them with =
her
wand, as they passed in, the light faded from their crowns, their robes bec=
ame
like withered leaves, and their wands were powerless.
Amid the tears of all the Fairies, the Que=
en
led them to the gates, and said,--
"Farewell! It is not in my power to a=
id
you; innocence and love are not within your hearts, and were it not for this
untiring little maiden, who has toiled while you have wept, you never would
have entered your lost home. =
Go and
strive again, for till all is once more fair and pure, I cannot call you
mine."
"Farewell!" sang the weeping Fai=
ries,
as the gates closed on their outcast friends; who, humbled and broken-heart=
ed,
gathered around Bud; and she, with cheering words, guided them back to the
forest.
Time passed on, and the Fairies had done
nothing to gain their lovely home again.&n=
bsp;
They wept no longer, but watched little Bud, as she daily tended the
flowers, restoring thelr strength and beauty, or with gentle words flew from
nest to nest, teaching the little birds to live happily together; and where=
ver
she went blessings fell, and loving hearts were filled with gratitude.
Then, one by one, the Elves secretly did s=
ome
little work of kindness, and found a quiet joy come back to repay them. Flowers looked lovingly up as they
passed, birds sang to cheer them when sad thoughts made them weep. And soon little Bud found out their
gentle deeds, and her friendly words gave them new strength. So day after day they followed her=
, and
like a band of guardian spirits they flew far and wide, carrying with them =
joy
and peace.
And not only birds and flowers blessed the=
m,
but human beings also; for with tender hands they guided little children fr=
om
danger, and kept their young hearts free from evil thoughts; they whispered=
soothing
words to the sick, and brought sweet odors and fair flowers to their lonely
rooms. They sent lovely visio=
ns to
the old and blind, to make their hearts young and bright with happy thought=
s.
But most tenderly did they watch over the =
poor
and sorrowing, and many a poor mother blessed the unseen hands that laid fo=
od before
her hungry little ones, and folded warm garments round their naked limbs. Many a poor man wondered at the fa=
ir
flowers that sprang up in his little garden-plot, cheering him with their b=
right
forms, and making his dreary home fair with their loveliness, and looked at=
his
once barren field, where now waved the golden corn, turning its broad leaue=
s to
the warm sun, and promising a store of golden ears to give him food; while =
the
care-worn face grew bright, and the troubled heart filled with gratitude
towards the invisible spirits who had brought him such joy.
Thus time passed on, and though the exiled
Fairies longed often for their home, still, knowing they did not deserve it,
they toiled on, hoping one day to see the friends they had lost; while the =
joy
of their own hearts made their life full of happiness.
One day came little Bud to them, saying,--=
"Listen, dear friends. I have a hard task to offer you. It is a great sacrifice for you
lightloving Fairies to dwell through the long winter in the dark, cold eart=
h,
watching over the flowerroots, to keep them free from the little grubs and
worms that seek to harm them. But in the sunny Spring when they bloom again,
their love and gratitude will give you happy homes among their bright leave=
s.
"It is a wearisome task, and I can gi=
ve
you no reward for all your tender care, but the blessings of the gentle flo=
wers
you will have saved from death.
Gladly would I aid you; but my winged friends are preparing for their
journey to warmer lands, and I must help them teach their little ones to fl=
y,
and see them safely on their way. Then, through the winter, must I seek the
dwellings of the poor and suffering, comfort the sick and lonely, and give =
hope
and courage to those who in their poverty are led astray. These things must I do; but when t=
he
flowers bloom again I will be with you, to welcome back our friends from ov=
er
the sea."
Then, with tears, the Fairies answered,
"Ah, good little Bud, you have taken the hardest task yourself, and who
will repay you for all your deeds of tenderness and mercy in the great worl=
d?
Should evil befall you, our hearts would break. We will labor trustingly in the ea=
rth, and
thoughts of you shall cheer us on; for without you we had been worthless be=
ings,
and never known the joy that kindly actions bring. Yes, dear Bud, we will
gladly toil among the roots, that the fair flowers may wear their gayest ro=
bes
to welcome you.
Then deep in the earth the Fairies dwelt, =
and
no frost or snow could harm the blossoms they tended. Every little seed was laid in the =
soft
earth, watered, and watched. =
Tender
roots were folded in withered leaves, that no chilling drops might reach th=
em;
and safely dreamed the flowers, till summer winds should call them forth; w=
hile
lighter grew each Fairy heart, as every gentle deed was tenderly performed.=
At length the snow was gone, and they heard
little voices calling them to come up; but patiently they worked, till seed=
and
root were green and strong. T=
hen,
with eager feet, they hastened to the earth above, where, over hill and val=
ley,
bright flowers and budding trees smiled in the warm sunlight, blossoms bent
lovingly before them, and rang their colored bells, till the fragrant air w=
as
full of music; while the stately trees waved their great arms above them, a=
nd
scattered soft leaves at their feet.
Then came the merry birds, making the wood
alive with their gay voices, calling to one another, as they flew among the
vines, building their little homes.
Long waited the Elves, and at last she came with Father Brown-Breast=
. Happy days passed; and summer flow=
ers
were in their fullest beauty, when Bud bade the Fairies come with her.
Mounted on bright-winged butterflies, they
flew over forest and meadow, till with joyful eyes they saw the flower-crow=
ned
walls of Fairy-Land.
Before
the gates they stood, and soon troops of loving Elves came forth to meet
them. And on through the sunny
gardens they went, into the Lily Hall, where, among the golden stamens of a
graceful flower, sat the Queen; while on the broad, green leaves around it =
stood
the brighteyed little maids of honor.
Then, amid the deep silence, little Bud,
leading the Fairies to the throne, said,--
"Dear Queen, I here bring back your s=
ubjects,
wiser for their sorrow, better for their hard trial; and now might any Quee=
n be
proud of them, and bow to learn from them that giving joy and peace to othe=
rs brings
it fourfold to us, bearing a double happiness in the blessings to those we
help. Through the dreary mont=
hs,
when they might have dwelt among fair Southern flowers, beneath a smiling s=
ky,
they toiled in the dark and silent earth, filling the hearts of the gentle
Flower Spirits with grateful love, seeking no reward but the knowledge of t=
heir
own good deeds, and the joy they always bring. This they have done unmurmuringly =
and
alone; and now, far and wide, flower blessings fall upon them, and the summ=
er
winds bear the glad tidings unto those who droop in sorrow, and new joy and=
strength
it brings, as they look longingly for the friends whose gentle care hath
brought such happiness to their fair kindred.
"Are they not worthy of your love, de=
ar
Queen? Have they not won their lovely home? Say they are pardoned, and you =
have
gained the love of hearts pure as the snow-white robes now folded over
them." As Bud ceased, she
touched the wondering Fairies with her wand, and the dark faded garments fe=
ll
away; and beneath, the robes of lily-leaves glittered pure and spotless in =
the
sun-light. Then, while happy tears fell, Queen Dew-Drop placed the bright
crowns on the bowed heads of the kneeling Fairies, and laid before them the
wands their own good deeds had rendered powerful.
They turned to thank little Bud for all her
patient love, but she was gone; and high above, in the clear air, they saw =
the
little form journeying back to the quiet forest.
She needed no reward but the joy she had
given. The Fairy hearts were =
pure
again, and her work was done; yet all Fairy-Land had learned a lesson from
gentle little Bud.
"Now, little Sunbeam, what have you t=
o tell
us?" said the Queen, looking down on a bright-eyed Elf, who sat half
hidden in the deep moss at her feet.
"I
too, like Star-Twinkle, have nothing but a song to offer," replied the
Fairy; and then, while the nightingale's sweet voice mingled with her own, =
she
sang,--
IN a quiet, pleasant meadow,=
Beneath a summer=
sky,
Where green old trees their
branches waved,
And winds went s=
inging
by;
Where a little brook went ri=
ppling
So musically low=
,
And passing clouds cast shad=
ows
On the waving gr=
ass
below;
Where low, sweet notes of br=
ooding
birds
Stole out on the
fragrant air,
And golden sunlight shone un=
dimmed
On al1 most fres=
h and
fair;--
There bloomed a lovely siste=
rhood
Of happy little
flowers,
Together in this pleasant ho=
me,
Through quiet su=
mmer
hours.
No rude hand came to gather =
them,
No chilling wind=
s to
blight;
Warm sunbeams smiled on them=
by
day,
And soft dews fe=
ll at
night.
So here, along the brook-sid=
e,
Beneath the gree=
n old
trees,
The flowers dwelt among their
friends,
The sunbeams and=
the
breeze.
One morning, as the flowers =
awoke,
Fragrant, and fr=
esh,
and fair,
A little worm came creeping =
by,
And begged a she=
lter
there.
"Ah! pity and love me,&=
quot;
sighed the worm,
"I am lonel=
y,
poor, and weak;
A little spot for a resting-=
plaee,
Dear flowers, is=
all I
seek.
I am not fair, and have dwelt
unloved
By butterfly, bird, an=
d bee.
They little knew that in thi=
s dark
form
Lay the beauty t=
hey
yet may see.
Then let me lie in the deep =
green
moss,
And weave my lit=
tle
tomb,
And sleep my long, unbroken =
sleep
Till Spring's fi=
rst flowers
come.
Then will I come in a fairer
dress,
And your gentle =
care
repay
By the grateful love of the =
humble
worm;
Kind flowers, O =
let me
stay!"
But the wild rose showed her
little thorns,
While her soft f=
ace
glowed with pride;
The violet hid beneath the
drooping ferns,
And the daisy tu=
rned
aside.
Little Houstonia seornfully
laughed,
As she danced on=
her
slender stem;
While the cowslip bent to the
rippling waves,
And whispered th=
e tale
to them.
A blue-eyed grass looked dow=
n on
the worm,
As it silently t=
urned
away,
And cried, "Thou wilt h=
arm
our delicate leaves,
And therefore th=
ou
canst not stay."
Then a sweet, soft voice, ca=
lled
out from far,
"Come hithe=
r,
poor worm, to me;
The sun lies warm in this qu=
iet
spot,
And I'11 share m=
y home
with thee."
The wondering flowers looked=
up to
see
Who had offered =
the
worm a home:
'T was a clover-blossom, who=
se
fluttering leaves
Seemed beckoning=
him
to come;
It dwelt in a sunny little n=
ook,
Where cool winds
rustled by,
And murmuring bees and butte=
rflies
came,
On the flower's =
breast
to lie.
Down through the leaves the
sunlight stole,
And seemed to li=
nger
there,
As if it loved to brighten t=
he
home
Of one so sweet =
and
fair.
Its rosy face smiled kindly =
down,
As the friendles=
s worm
drew near;
And its low voice, softly
whispering, said
"Poor thing=
, thou
art welcome here;
Close at my side, in the soft
green moss,
Thou wilt find a=
quiet
bed,
Where thou canst softly slee=
p till
Spring,
With my leaves a=
bove
thee spread.
I pity and love thee, friend=
less
worm,
Though thou art =
not
graceful or fair;
For many a dark, unlovely fo=
rm,
Hath a kind heart
dwelling there;
No more o'er the green and
pleasant earth,
Lonely and poor,=
shalt
thou roam,
For a loving friend hast thou
found in me,
And rest in my l=
ittle
home."
Then, deep in its quiet moss=
y bed,
Sheltered from sun and shower,
The grateful worm spun its w=
inter
tomb,
In the shadow of=
the
flower.
And Clover guarded well its =
rest,
Till Autumn's le=
aves
were sere,
Till all her sister flowers =
were
gone,
And her winter s=
leep
drew near.
Then her withered leaves were
softly spread
O'er the sleepin=
g worm
below,
Ere the faithful little flow=
er lay
Beneath the wint=
er
snow.
Spring came again, and the f=
lowers
rose
From their quiet
winter graves,
And gayly danced on their sl=
ender
stems,
And sang with the
rippling waves.
Softly the warm winds kissed=
their
cheeks;
Brightly the sun=
beams
fell,
As, one by one, they came ag=
ain
In their summer =
homes
to dwell.
And little Clover bloomed on=
ce
more,
Rosy, and sweet,=
and
fair,
And patiently watched by the=
mossy
bed,
For the worm sti=
ll
slumbered there.
Then her sister flowers scor=
nfully
cried,
As they waved in=
the
summer air,
"The ugly worm was frie=
ndless
and poor;
Little Clover, w=
hy
shouldst thou care?
Then watch no more, nor dwell
alone,
Away from thy si=
ster
flowers;
Come, dance and feast, and s=
pend
with us
These pleasant s=
ummer
hours.
We pity thee, foolish little
flower,
To trust what the fals=
e worm
said;
He will not come in a fairer
dress,
For he lies in t=
he
green moss dead."
But little Clover still watc=
hed
on,
Alone in her sun=
ny
home;
She did not doubt the poor w=
orm's
truth,
And trusted he w=
ould
come.
At last the small cell opened
wide,
And a glittering
butterfly,
From out the moss, on golden
wings,
Soared up to the=
sunny
sky.
Then the wondering flowers c=
ried
aloud,
"Clover, thy
watch was vain;
He only sought a shelter her=
e,
And never will c=
ome
again."
And the unkind flowers dance=
d for
joy,
When they saw hi=
m thus
depart;
For the love of a beautiful
butterfly
Is dear to a flo=
wer's
heart.
They feared he would stay in
Clover's home,
And her tender c=
are
repay;
So they danced for joy, when=
at
last he rose
And silently flew
away.
Then little Clover bowed her=
head,
While her soft t=
ears
fell like dew;
For her gentle heart was gri=
eved,
to find
That her sisters'
words were true,
And the insect she had watch=
ed so
long
When helpless, p=
oor,
and lone,
Thankless for all her faithf=
ul
care,
On his golden wi=
ngs
had flown.
But as she drooped, in silent
grief,
She heard little=
Daisy
cry,
"O sisters, look! I see him now, Afar in the sunn=
y sky; He is floating back from
Cloud-Land now, Borne by the fra=
grant
air. Spread wide your leaves, tha=
t he
may choose The flower he de=
ems
most fair." Then the wild rose glowed wi=
th a
deeper blush, As she proudly w=
aved
on her stem; The Cowslip bent to the clea=
r blue
waves, And made her mir=
ror of
them. Little Houstonia merrily dan=
ced, And spread her w=
hite
leaves wide; While Daisy whispered her jo=
y and
hope, As she stood by =
her
gay friends' side. Violet peeped from the tall =
green
ferns, And lifted her s=
oft
blue eye To watch the glittering form=
, that
shone Afar in the summ=
er
sky. They thought no more of the =
ugly worm, Who once had wak=
ened
their scorn; But looked and longed for the
butterfly now, As the soft wind=
bore
him on. Nearer and nearer the bright=
form
came, And fairer the
blossoms grew; Each welcomed him, in her sw=
eetest
tones; Each offered her=
honey
and dew. But in vain did they beckon,=
and
smile, and call, And wider their =
leaves
unclose; The glittering form still fl=
oated
on, By Violet, Daisy=
, and
Rose. Lightly it flew to the pleas=
ant
home Of the flower mo=
st
truly fair, On Clover's breast he softly=
lit, And folded his b=
right
wings there. "Dear flower," the
butterfly whispered low, "Long hast =
thou
waited for me; Now I am come, and my gratef=
ul
love Shall brighten t=
hy
home for thee; Thou hast loved and cared fo=
r me,
when alone, Hast watched o'e=
r me
long and well; And now will I strive to sho=
w the
thanks The poor worm co=
uld
not tell. Sunbeam and breeze shall com=
e to
thee, And the coolest =
dews
that fall; Whate'er a flower can wish is
thine, For thou art wor=
thy
all. And the home thou shared wit=
h the
friendless worm The butterfly's =
home
shall be; And thou shalt find, dear,
faithful flower, A loving friend =
in me." Then, through the long, brig=
ht
summer hours Through sunshine=
and
through shower, Together in their happy home=
Dwelt butterfly =
and
flower. "Ah,
that is very lovely," cried the Elves, gathering round little Sunbeam =
as
she ceased, to place a garland in her hair and praise her song. "Now," said the Queen, "call
hither Moon-light and Summer-Wind, for they have seen many pleasant things =
in
their long wanderings, and will gladly tell us them." "Most joyfully will we do our best, d=
ear
Queen," said the Elves, as they folded their wings beside her. "Now, Summer-Wind," said Moonlig=
ht,
"till your turn comes, do you sit here and fan me while I tell this ta=
le
of LITTLE ANNIE'S
DREAM; OR, THE FAIRY FLOWER.=
IN a large and pleasant garden sat little
Annie all alone, and she seemed very sad, for drops that were not dew fell =
fast
upon the flowers beside her, who looked wonderingly up, and bent still near=
er, as
if they longed to cheer and comfort her.&n=
bsp;
The warm wind lifted up her shining hair and softly kissed her cheek,
while the sunbeams, looking most kindly in her face, made little rainbows in
her tears, and lingered lovingly about her. But Annie paid no heed to sun, or w=
ind,
or flower; still the bright tears fell, and she forgot all but her sorrow.<=
o:p> "Little Annie, tell me why you weep,&=
quot;
said a low voice in her ear; and, looking up, the child beheld a little fig=
ure
standing on a vine-leaf at her side; a lovely face smiled on her, from amid=
bright
locks of hair, and shining wings were folded on a white and glittering robe,
that fluttered in the wind. "Who are you, lovely little thing?&qu=
ot;
cried Annie, smiling through her tears. "I am a Fairy, little child, and am c=
ome
to help and comfort you; now tell me why you weep, and let me be your frien=
d,"
replied the spirit, as she smiled more kindly still on Annie's wondering fa=
ce. =
span>"And
are you really, then, a little Elf, such as I read of in my fairy books? "Yes, all these things I do, and many
stranger still, that all your fairy books can never tell; but now, dear
Annie," said the Fairy, bending nearer, "tell me why I found no
sunshine on your face; why are these great drops shining on the flowers, and
why do you sit alone when BIRD and BEE are calling you to play?" "Ah, you will not love me any more if=
I
should tell you all," said Annie, while the tears began to fall again;
"I am not happy, for I am not good; how shall I learn to be a patient,
gentle child? good little Fairy, will you teach me how?" "Gladly will I aid you, Annie, and if=
you
truly wish to be a happy child, you first must learn to conquer many passio=
ns
that you cherish now, and make your heart a home for gentle feelings and ha=
ppy
thoughts; the task is hard, but I will give this fairy flower to help and
counsel you. Bend hither, tha=
t I
may place it in your breast; no hand can take it hence, till I unsay the sp=
ell
that holds it there." As thus she spoke, the Elf took from her b=
osom
a graceful flower, whose snow-white leaves shone with a strange, soft
light. "This is a fairy
flower," said the Elf, "invisible to every eye save yours; now li=
sten
while I tell its power, Annie. When
your heart is filled with loving thoughts, when some kindly deed has been d=
one,
some duty well performed, then from the flower there will arise the sweetes=
t, softest
fragrance, to reward and gladden you.
But when an unkind word is on your lips, when a selfish, angry feeli=
ng
rises in your heart, or an unkind, cruel deed is to be done, then will you =
hear
the soft, low chime of the flower-bell; listen to its warning, let the word=
remain
unspoken, the deed undone, and in the quiet joy of your own heart, and the
magic perfume of your bosom flower, you will find a sweet reward." "O kind and generous Fairy, how can I
ever thank you for this lovely gift!" cried Annie. "I will be true, and listen t=
o my
little bell whenever it may ring.
But shall I never see YOU more?&nbs=
p;
Ah! if you would only stay with me, I should indeed be good." "I cannot stay now, little Annie,&quo=
t;
said the Elf, "but when another Spring comes round, I shall be here ag=
ain,
to see how well the fairy gift has done its work. And now farewell, dear child; be
faithful to yourself, and the magic flower will never fade." Then the gentle Fairy folded her little ar=
ms
around Annie's neck, laid a soft kiss on her cheek, and, spreading wide her
shining wings, flew singing up among the white clouds floating in the sky.<=
o:p> And little Annie sat among her flowers, and
watched with wondering joy the fairy blossom shining on her breast. The pleasant days of Spring and Summer pas=
sed
away, and in little Annie's garden Autumn flowers were blooming everywhere,=
with
each day's sun and dew growing still more beautiful and bright; but the fai=
ry
flower, that should have been the loveliest of all, hung pale and drooping =
on
little Annie's bosom; its fragrance seemed quite gone, and the clear, low m=
usic
of its warning chime rang often in
her ear. When first the Fairy placed it there, she =
had
been pleased with her new gift, and for a while obeyed the fairy bell, and
often tried to win some fragrance from the flower, by kind and pleasant wor=
ds and
actions; then, as the Fairy said, she found a sweet reward in the strange, =
soft
perfume of the magic blossom, as it shone upon her breast; but selfish thou=
ghts
would come to tempt her, she would yield, and unkind words fell from her li=
ps;
and then the flower drooped pale and scentless, the fairy bell rang mournfu=
lly,
Annie would forget her better resolutions, and be again a selfish, wilful
little child. At last she tried no longer, but grew angry
with the faithful flower, and would have torn it from her breast; but the f=
airy
spell still held it fast, and all her angry words but made it ring a louder=
, sadder
peal. Then she paid no heed t=
o the
silvery music sounding in her ear, and each day grew still more unhappy,
discontented, and unkind; so, when the Autumn days came round, she was no
better for the gentle Fairy's gift, and longed for Spring, that it might be
returned; for now the constant echo of the mournful music made her very sad=
. One sunny morning, when the fresh, cool Wi=
nds
were blowing, and not a cloud was in the sky, little Annie walked among her
flowers, looking carefully into each, hoping thus to find the Fairy, who al=
one could
take the magic blossom from her breast.&nb=
sp;
But she lifted up their drooping leaves, peeped into their dewy cups=
in
vain; no little Elf lay hidden there, and she turned sadly from them all,
saying, "I will go out into the fields and woods, and seek her there.<=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> I will not listen to this tiresome=
music
more, nor wear this withered flower longer." So out into the fields she went, w=
here
the long grass rustled as she passed, and timid birds looked at her from th=
eir
nests; where lovely wild-flowers nodded in the wind, and opened wide their =
fragrant
leaves, to welcome in the murmuring bees, while butterflies, like winged
flowers, danced and glittered in the sun.
Little Annie looked, searched, and asked t=
hem
all if any one could tell her of the Fairy whom she sought; but the birds
looked wonderingly at her with their soft, bright eyes, and still sang on; =
the
flowers nodded wisely on their stems, but did not speak, while butterfly and
bee buzzed and fluttered away, one far too busy, the other too idle, to stay
and tell her what she asked.
Then she went through broad fields of yell=
ow
grain, that waved around her like a golden forest; here crickets chirped,
grasshoppers leaped, and busy ants worked, but they could not tell her what=
she
longed to know.
"Now will I go among the hills,"=
said
Annie, "she may be there." So up and down the green hill-sides we=
nt
her little feet; long she searched and vainly she called; but still no Fairy
came. Then by the river-side =
she
went, and asked the gay dragon-flies, and the cool white lilies, if the Fai=
ry
had been there; but the blue waves rippled on the white sand at her feet, a=
nd
no voice answered her.
Then into the forest little Annie went; an=
d as
she passed along the dim, cool paths, the wood-flowers smiled up in her fac=
e,
gay squirrels peeped at her, as they swung amid the vines, and doves cooed
softly as she wandered by; but none could answer her. So, weary with her long and useless
search, she sat amid the ferns, and feasted on the rosy strawberries that g=
rew
beside her, watching meanwhile the crimson evening clouds that glowed around
the setting sun.
The night-wind rustled through the boughs,
rocking the flowers to sleep; the wild birds sang their evening hymns, and =
all
within the wood grew calm and still; paler and paler grew the purple light,=
lower
and lower drooped little Annie's head, the tall ferns bent to shield her fr=
om
the dew, the whispering pines sang a soft lullaby; and when the Autumn moon
rose up, her silver light shone on the child, where, pillowed on green moss,
she lay asleep amid the wood-flowers in the dim old forest.
And all night long beside her stood the Fa=
iry
she had sought, and by elfin spell and charm sent to the sleeping child this
dream.
Little Annie dreamed she sat in her own
garden, as she had often sat before, with angry feelings in her heart, and
unkind words upon her lips. T=
he
magic flower was ringing its soft warning, but she paid no heed to anything,
save her own troubled thoughts; thus she sat, when suddenly a low voice
whispered in her ear,--
"Little
Annie, look and see the evil things that you are cherishing;
I
will clothe in fitting shapes the thoughts and feelings that now
dwell
within your heart, and you shall see how great their power
becomes,
unless you banish them for ever."
Then Annie saw, with fear and wonder, that=
the
angry words she uttered changed to dark, unlovely forms, each showing plain=
ly
from what fault or passion it had sprung.&=
nbsp;
Some of the shapes had scowling faces and bright, fiery eyes; these =
were
the spirits of Anger. Others,=
with sullen,
anxious looks, seemed gathering up all they could reach, and Annie saw that=
the
more they gained, the less they seemed to have; and these she knew were sha=
pes
of Selfishness. Spirits of Pr=
ide
were there, who folded their shadowy garments round them, and turned scornf=
ully
away from all the rest. These=
and
many others little Annie saw, which had come from her own heart, and taken =
form
before her eyes.
When first she saw them, they were small a=
nd
weak; but as she looked they seemed to grow and gather strength, and each
gained a strange power over her.
She could not drive them from her sight, and they grew ever stronger,
darker, and more unlovely to her eyes. They seemed to cast black shadows ov=
er
all around, to dim the sunshine, blight the flowers, and drive away all bri=
ght
and lovely things; while rising slowly round her Annie saw a high, dark wal=
], that
seemed to shut out everything she loved; she dared not move, or speak, but,
with a strange fear at her heart, sat watching the dim shapes that hovered
round her.
Higher and higher rose the shadowy wall,
slowly the flowers near her died, lingeringly the sunlight faded; but at la=
st
they both were gone, and left her all alone behind the gloomy wall. Then the spirits gathered round he=
r,
whispering strange things in her ear, bidding her obey, for by her own will=
she
had yielded up her heart to be their home, and she was now their slave. Then she could hear no more, but, =
sinking
down among the withered flowers, wept sad and bitter tears, for her lost
liberty and joy; then through the gloom there shone a faint, soft light, an=
d on
her breast she saw her fairy flower, upon whose snow-white leaves her tears=
lay
shining.
Clearer and brighter grew the radiant ligh=
t,
till the evil spirits turned away to the dark shadow of the wall, and left =
the
child alone.
The light and perfume of the flower seemed=
to
bring new strength to Annie, and she rose up, saying, as she bent to kiss t=
he
blossom on her breast, "Dear flower, help and guide me now, and I will
listen to your voice, and cheerfully obey my faithful fairy bell."
Then in her dream she felt how hard the
spirits tried to tempt and trouble her, and how, but for her flower, they w=
ould
have led her back, and made all dark and dreary as before. Long and hard she struggled, and t=
ears
often fell; but after each new trial, brighter shone her magic flower, and
sweeter grew its breath, while the spirits lost still more their power to t=
empt
her. Meanwhile, green, flower=
ing
vines crept up the high, dark wall, and hid its roughness from her sight; a=
nd
over these she watched most tenderly, for soon, wherever green leaves and f=
lowers
bloomed, the wall beneath grew weak, and fell apart. Thus little Annie worked and hoped=
, till
one by one the evil spirits fled away, and in their place came shining form=
s,
with gentle eyes and smiling lips, who gathered round her with such loving
words, and brought such strength and joy to Annie's heart, that nothing evi=
l dared
to enter in; while slowly sank the gloomy wall, and, over wreaths of fragra=
nt
flowers, she passed out into the pleasant world again, the fairy gift no lo=
nger
pale and drooping, but now shining like a star upon her breast.
Then
the low voice spoke again in Annie's sleeping ear, saying, "The dark,
unlovely passions you have looked upon are in your heart; watch well while =
they
are few and weak, lest they should darken your whole life, and shut out love
and happiness for ever. Remem=
ber
well the lesson of the dream, dear child, and let the shining spirits make =
your
heart their home."
And with that voice sounding in her ear,
little Annie woke to find it was a dream; but like other dreams it did not =
pass
away; and as she sat alone, bathed in the rosy morning light, and watched t=
he
forest waken into life, she thought of the strange forms she had seen, and,=
looking
down upon the flower on her breast, she silently resolved to strive, as she=
had
striven in her dream, to bring back light and beauty to its faded leaves, by
being what the Fairy hoped to render her, a patient, gentle little child. <=
span
style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> And as the thought came to her mind=
, the
flower raised its drooping head, and, looking up into the earnest little fa=
ce
bent over it, seemed by its fragrant breath to answer Annie's silent though=
t,
and strengthen her for what might come.
Meanwhile the forest was astir, birds sang
their gay good-morrows from tree to tree, while leaf and flower turned to g=
reet
the sun, who rose up smiling on the world; and so beneath the forest boughs=
and
through the dewy fields went little Annie home, better and wiser for her dr=
eam.
Autumn flowers were dead and gone, yellow
leaves lay rustling on the ground, bleak winds went whistling through the n=
aked
trees, and cold, white Winter snow fell softly down; yet now, when all with=
out looked
dark and dreary, on little Annie's breast the fairy flower bloomed more
beautiful than ever. The memo=
ry of
her forest dream had never passed away, and through trial and temptation she
had been true, and kept her resolution still unbroken; seldom now did the
warning bell sound in her ear, and seldom did the flower's fragrance cease =
to
float about her, or the fairy light to brighten all whereon it fell.
So, through the long, cold Winter, little
Annie dwelt like a sunbeam in her home, each day growing richer in the love=
of
others, and happier in herself; often was she tempted, but, remembering her
dream, she listened only to the music of the fairy bell, and the unkind tho=
ught
or feeling fled away, the smiling spirits of gentleness and love nestled in=
her
heart, and all was bright again.
So better and happier grew the child, fair=
er
and sweeter grew the flower, till Spring came smiling over the earth, and w=
oke
the flowers, set free the streams, and welcomed back the birds; then daily =
did the
happy child sit among her flowers, longing for the gentle Elf to come again,
that she might tell her gratitude for all the magic gift had done.
At length, one day, as she sat singing in =
the
sunny nook where all her fairest flowers bloomed, weary with gazing at the
far-off sky for the little form she hoped would come, she bent to look with
joyful love upon her bosom flower; and as she looked, its folded leaves spr=
ead
wide apart, and, rising slowly from the deep white cup, appeared the smiling
face of the lovely Elf whose coming she had waited for so long.
"Dear Annie, look for me no longer; I=
am
here on your own breast, for you have learned to love my gift, and it has d=
one
its work most faithfully and well," the Fairy said, as she looked into=
the
happy child's bright face, and laid her little arms most tenderly about her
neck.
"And now have I brought another gift =
from
Fairy-Land, as a fit reward for you, dear child," she said, when Annie=
had
told all her gratitude and love; then, touching the child with her shining
wand, the Fairy bid her look and listen silently.
And suddenly the world seemed changed to
Annie; for the air was filled with strange, sweet sounds, and all around her
floated lovely forms. In every
flower sat little smiling Elves, singing gayly as they rocked amid the
leaves. On every breeze, brig=
ht,
airy spirits came floating by; some fanned her cheek with their cool breath,
and waved her long hair to and fro, while others rang the flower-bells, and
made a pleasant rustling among the leaves.=
In the fountain, where the water danced and sparkled in the sun, ast=
ride
of every drop she saw merry little spirits, who plashed and floated in the
clear, cool waves, and sang as gayly as the flowers, on whom they scattered
glittering dew. The tall trees, as their branches rustled in the wind, sang=
a
low, dreamy song, while the waving grass was filled with little voices she =
had
never heard before. Butterfli=
es
whispered lovely tales in her ear, and birds sang cheerful songs in a sweet
language she had never understood before.&=
nbsp;
Earth and air seemed filled with beauty and with music she had never
dreamed of until now.
"O tell me what it means, dear Fairy!=
is
it another and a lovelier dream, or is the earth in truth so beautiful as
this?" she cried, looking with wondering joy upon the Elf, who lay upon
the flower
in
her breast.
"Yes, it is true, dear child," r=
eplied
the Fairy, "and few are the mortals to whom we give this lovely gift; =
what
to you is now so full of music and of light, to others is but a pleasant su=
mmer
world; they never know the language of butterfly or bird or flower, and the=
y are
blind to aIl that I have given you the power to see. These fair things are your friends=
and
playmates now, and they will teach you many pleasant lessons, and give you =
many
happy hours; while the garden where you once sat, weeping sad and bitter te=
ars,
is now brightened by your own happiness, filled with loving friends by your=
own
kindly thoughts and feelings; and thus rendered a pleasant summer home for =
the
gentle, happy child, whose bosom flower will never fade. And now, dear Anni=
e, I
must go; but every Springtime, with the earliest flowers, will I come again=
to
visit you, and bring some fairy gift.
Guard well the magic flower, that I may find all fair and bright when
next I come."
Then, with a kind farewell, the gentle Fai=
ry
floated upward through the sunny air, smiling down upon the child, until she
vanished in the soft, white clouds, and little Annie stood alone in her enc=
hanted
garden, where all was brightened with the radiant light, and fragrant with =
the
perfume of her fairy flower.
When Moonlight ceased, Summer-Wind laid do=
wn
her rose-leaf fan, and,
leaning
back in her acorn cup, told this tale of
DOWN in the deep blue sea lived Ripple, a
happy little Water-Spirit; all day long she danced beneath the coral arches,
made garlands of bright ocean flowers, or floated on the great waves that
sparkled in the sunlight; but the pastime that she loved best was lying in =
the
many-colored shells upon the shore, listening to the low, murmuring music t=
he
waves had taught them long ago; and here for hours the little Spirit lay
watching the sea and sky, while singing gayly to herself.
But when tempests rose, she hastened down
below the stormy billows, to where all was calm and still, and with her sis=
ter
Spirits waited till it should be fair again, listening sadly, meanwhile, to=
the
cries of those whom the wild waves wrecked and cast into the angry sea, and=
who
soon came floating down, pale and cold, to the Spirits' pleasant home; then
they wept pitying tears above the lifeless forms, and laid them in quiet
graves, where flowers bloomed, and jewels sparkled in the sand.
This was Ripple's only grief, and she often
thought of those who sorrowed for the friends they loved, who now slept far
down in the dim and silent coral caves, and gladly would she have saved the
lives of those who lay around her; but the great ocean was far mightier tha=
n all
the tender-hearted Spirits dwelling in its bosom. Thus she could only weep for them,=
and
lay them down to sleep where no cruel waves could harm them more.
One day, when a fearful storm raged far and
wide, and the Spirits saw great billows rolling like heavy clouds above the=
ir
heads, and heard the wild winds sounding far away, down through the foaming
waves a little child came floating to their home; its eyes were closed as i=
f in
sleep, the long hair fell like sea-weed round its pale, cold face, and the
little hands still clasped the shells they had been gathering on the beach,
when the great waves swept it into the troubled sea.
With tender tears the Spirits laid the lit=
tle form
to rest upon its bed of flowers, and, singing mournful songs, as if to make=
its
sleep more calm and deep, watched long and lovingly above it, till the stor=
m had
died away, and all was still again.
While Ripple sang above the little child,
through the distant roar of winds and waves she heard a wild, sorrowing voi=
ce,
that seemed to call for help. Long
she listened, thinking it was but the echo of their own plaintive song, but=
high
above the music still sounded the sad, wailing cry. Then, stealing silently away, she =
glided
up through foam and spray, till, through the parting clouds, the sunlight s=
hone
upon her from the tranquil sky; and, guided by the mournful sound, she floa=
ted
on, till, close before her on the beach, she saw a woman stretching forth h=
er
arms, and with a sad, imploring voice praying the restless sea to give her =
back
the little child it had so cruelly borne away. But the waves dashed foaming up am=
ong
the bare rocks at her feet, mingling their cold spray with her tears, and g=
ave
no answer to her prayer.
When Ripple saw the mother's grief, she lo=
nged
to comfort her; so, bending tenderly beside her, where she knelt upon the
shore, the little Spirit told her how her child lay softly sleeping, far do=
wn in
a lovely place, where sorrowing tears were shed, and gentle hands laid garl=
ands
over him. But all in vain she
whispered kindly words; the weeping mother only cried,--
"Dear Spirit, can you use no charm or
spell to make the waves bring back my child, as full of life and strength as
when they swept him from my side? =
span>O
give me back my little child, or let me lie beside him in the bosom of the
cruel sea."
"Most gladly will I help you if I can,
though I have little power to use; then grieve no more, for I will search b=
oth
earth and sea, to find some friend who can bring back all you have lost.
When Ripple reached her home, she hastened=
to
the palace of the Queen, and told her of the little child, the sorrowing
mother, and the promise she had made.
"Good little Ripple," said the Q=
ueen,
when she had told her all, "your promise never can be kept; there is no
power below the sea to work this charm, and you can never reach the
Fire-Spirits' home, to win from them a flame to warm the little body into
life. I pity the poor mother,=
and
would most gladly help her; but alas! I am a Spirit like yourself, and cann=
ot
serve you as I long to do."
"Ah, dear Queen! if you had seen her
sorrow, you too would seek to keep the promise I have made. I cannot let her watch for ME in v=
ain,
till I have done my best: then tell me where the Fire-Spirits dwell, and I =
will
ask of them the flame that shall give life to the little child and such gre=
at
happiness to the sad, lonely mother: tell me the path, and let me go."=
"It is far, far away, high up above t=
he
sun, where no Spirit ever dared to venture yet," replied the Queen.
But Ripple would not break the promise she=
had
made, and besought so earnestly, and with such pleading words, that the Que=
en
at last with sorrow gave consent, and Ripple joyfully prepared to go. She, with her sister Spirits, buil=
t up a
tomb of delicate, bright-colored shells, wherein the child might lie, till =
she
should come to wake him into life; then, praying them to watch most faithfu=
lly
above it, she said farewell, and floated bravely forth, on her long, unknow=
n journey,
far away.
"I will search the broad earth till I
find a path up to the sun, or some kind friend who will carry me; for, alas=
! I
have no wings, and cannot glide through the blue air as through the sea,&qu=
ot;
said Ripple to herself, as she went dancing over the waves, which bore her
swiftly onward towards a distant shore.
Long she journeyed through the pathless oc=
ean,
with no friends to cheer her, save the white sea-birds who went sweeping by,
and only stayed to dip their wide wings at her side, and then flew silently
away. Sometimes great ships s=
ailed
by, and then with longing eyes did the little Spirit gaze up at the faces t=
hat
looked down upon the sea; for often they were kind and pleasant ones, and s=
he
gladly would have called to them and asked them to be friends. But they would never understand the
strange, sweet language that she spoke, or even see the lovely face that sm=
iled
at them above the waves; her blue, transparent garments were but water to t=
heir
eyes, and the pearl chains in her hair but foam and sparkling spray; so, ho=
ping
that the sea would be most gentle with them, silently she floated on her wa=
y,
and left them far behind.
At length green hills were seen, and the w=
aves
gladly bore the little Spirit on, till, rippling gently over soft white san=
d,
they left her on the pleasant shore.
"Ah, what a lovely place it is!"=
said
Ripple, as she passed through sunny valleys, where flowers began to bloom, =
and
young leaves rustled on the trees.
"Why are you all so gay, dear birds?&=
quot;
she asked, as their cheerful voices sounded far and near; "is there a
festival over the earth, that all is so beautiful and bright?"
"Do you not know that Spring is comin=
g?
The warm winds whispered it days ago, and we are learning the sweetest song=
s,
to welcome her when she shall come," sang the lark, soaring away as the
music gushed from his little throat.
"And shall I see her, Violet, as she
journeys over the earth?" asked
Ripple
again.
"Yes, you will meet her soon, for the
sunlight told me she was near; tell her we long to see her again, and are
waiting to welcome her back," said the blue flower, dancing for joy on=
her
stem, as she nodded and smiled on the Spirit.
"I will ask Spring where the Fire-Spi=
rits
dwell; she travels over the earth each year, and surely can show me the
way," thought Ripple, as she went journeying on.
Soon she saw Spring come smiling over the
earth; sunbeams and breezes floated before, and then, with her white garmen=
ts
covered with flowers, with wreaths in her hair, and dew-drops and seeds fal=
ling
fast from her hands the beautiful season came singing by.
"Dear Spring, will you listen, and he=
lp a
poor little Spirit, who seeks far and wide for the Fire-Spirits' home?"
cried Ripple; and then told why she was there, and begged her to tell what =
she
sought.
"The Fire-Spirits' home is far, far a=
way,
and I cannot guide you there; but Summer is coming behind me," said
Spring, "and she may know better than I. But I will give you a breeze =
to
help you on your way; it will never tire nor fail, but bear you easily over
land and sea. Farewell, little Spirit!&nbs=
p;
I would gladly do more, but voices are calling me far and wide, and I
cannot stay."
"Many thanks, kind Spring!" cried
Ripple, as she floated away on the breeze; "give a kindly word to the =
mother
who waits on the shore, and tell her I have not forgotten my vow, but hope =
soon
to see her again."
Then Spring flew on with her sunshine and
flowers, and Ripple went swiftly over hill and vale, till she came to the l=
and
where Summer was dwelling. He=
re the
sun shone warmly down on the early fruit, the winds blew freshly over field=
s of
fragrant hay, and rustled with a pleasant sound among the green leaves in t=
he
forests; heavy dews fell softly down at night, and long, bright days brought
strength and beauty to the blossoming earth.
"Now I must seek for Summer," sa=
id
Ripple, as she sailed slowly through the sunny sky.
"I am here, what would you with me,
little Spirit?" said a musical
voice
in her ear; and, floating by her side, she saw a graceful form,
with
green robes fluttering in the air, whose pleasant face looked
kindly
on her, from beneath a crown of golden sunbeams that cast
a
warm, bright glow on all beneath.
Then Ripple told her tale, and asked where=
she
should go; but Summer answered,--
"I can tell no more than my young sis=
ter
Spring where you may find the Spirits that you seek; but I too, like her, w=
ill
give a gift to aid you. Take =
this
sunbeam from my crown; it will cheer and brighten the most gloomy path thro=
ugh
which you pass. Farewell! I s=
hall
carry tidings of you to the watcher by the sea, if in my journey round the =
world
I find her there."
And
Summer, giving her the sunbeam, passed away over the distant hills, leaving=
all
green and bright behind her.
So Ripple journeyed on again, till the ear=
th
below her shone with ye]low harvests waving in the sun, and the air was fil=
led with
cheerful voices, as the reapers sang among the fields or in the pleasant
vineyards, where purple fruit hung gleaming through the leaves; while the s=
ky
above was cloudless, and the changing forest-trees shone like a many-colored
garland, over hill and plain; and here, along the ripening corn-fields, with
bright wreaths of crimson leaves and golden wheat-ears in her hair and on h=
er
purple mantle, stately Autumn passed, with a happy smile on her calm face, =
as
she went scattering generous gifts from her full arms.
But when the wandering Spirit came to her,=
and
asked for what she sought, this season, like the others, could not tell her
where to go; so, giving her a yellow leaf, Autumn said, as she passed on,--=
"Ask Winter, little Ripple, when you =
come
to his cold home; he knows the Fire-Spirits well, for when he comes they fl=
y to
the earth, to warm and comfort those dwelling there; and perhaps he can tell
you where they are. So take t=
his
gift of mine, and when you meet his
chilly
winds, fold it about you, and sit warm beneath its shelter, till you come to
sunlight again. I will carry
comfort to the patient woman, as my sisters have already done, and tell her=
you
are
faithful
still."
Then on went the never-tiring Breeze, over
forest, hill, and field, till the sky grew dark, and bleak winds whistled
by. Then Ripple, folded in the
soft, warm leaf, looked sadly down on the earth, that seemed to lie so deso=
late
and still beneath its shroud of snow, and thought how bitter cold the leaves
and flowers must be; for the little Water-Spirit did not know that Winter
spread a soft white covering above their beds, that they might safely sleep
below till Spring should waken them again.=
So she went sorrowfully on, till Winter, riding on the strong North-=
Wind,
came rushing by, with a sparkling ice-crown in his streaming hair, while fr=
om
beneath his crimson cloak, where glittering frost-work shone like silver
threads, he scattered snow-flakes far and wide.
"What do you seek with me, fair little
Spirit, that you come so bravely here amid my ice and snow? Do not fear me; I am warm at heart,
though rude and cold without," said Winter, looking kindly on her, whi=
le a
bright smile shone like sunlight on his pleasant face, as it glowed and
glistened in the frosty air.
When Ripple told him why she had come, he
pointed upward, where the sunlight dimly shone through the heavy clouds,
saying,--
"Far off there, beside the sun, is the
Fire-Spirits' home; and the only path is up, through cloud and mist. It is a long, strange path, for a =
lonely
little Spirit to be going; the Fairies are wild, wilful things, and in their
play may harm and trouble you. Come
back with me, and do not go this dangerous journey to the sky. I'll gladly bear you home again, i=
f you
will come."
But Ripple said, "I cannot turn back =
now,
when I am nearly there. The Spirits surely will not harm me, when I tell th=
em
why I am come; and if I win the flame, I shall be the happiest Spirit in the
sea, for my promise will be kept, and the poor mother happy once again. So
farewell, Winter! Speak to he=
r gently,
and tell her to hope still, for I shall surely come."
"Adieu, little Ripple! May good angels watch above you! Journey bravely on, and take this
snow-flake that will never melt, as MY gift," Winter cried, as the
North-Wind bore him on, leaving a cloud of falling snow behind.
"Now,
dear Breeze," said Ripple, "fly straight upward through the air, =
until
we reach the place we have so long been seeking; Sunbeam shall go before to
light the way, Yellow-leaf shall shelter me from heat and rain, while
Snow-flake shall lie here beside me till it comes of use. So farewell to the pleasant earth, =
until
we come again. And now away, =
up to
the sun!"
When Ripple first began her airy journey, =
all
was dark and dreary; heavy clouds lay piled like hills around her, and a co=
ld
mist filled the air but the Sunbeam, like a star, lit up the way, the leaf =
lay
warmly round her, and the tireless wind went swiftly on. Higher and higher they floated up,=
still
darker and darker grew the air, closer the damp mist gathered, while the bl=
ack
clouds rolled and tossed, like great waves, to and fro.
"Ah!" sighed the weary little Sp=
irit,
"shall I never see the light again, or feel the warm winds on my
cheek? It is a dreary way ind=
eed, and
but for the Seasons' gifts I should have perished long ago; but the heavy
clouds MUST pass away at last, and all be fair again. So hasten on, good
Breeze, and bring me quickly to my journey's end."
Soon the cold vapors vanished from her pat=
h,
and sunshine shone upon her pleasantly; so she went gayly on, till she came=
up
among the stars, where many new, strange sights were to be seen. With wondering eyes she looked upo=
n the
bright worlds that once seemed dim and distant, when she gazed upon them fr=
om
the sea; but now they moved around her, some shining with a softly radiant
light, some circled with bright, many-colored rings, while others burned wi=
th a
red, angry glare. Ripple woul=
d have
gladly stayed to watch them longer, for she fancied low, sweet voices called
her, and lovely faces seemed to look upon her as she passed; but higher up
still, nearer to the sun, she saw a far-off light, that glittered like a
brilliant crimson star, and seemed to cast a rosy glow along the sky.
"The Fire-Spirits surely must be ther=
e,
and I must stay no longer here," said Ripple. So steadily she floated on, till
straight before her lay a broad, bright path, that led up to a golden arch,=
beyond
which she could see shapes flitting to and fro. As she drew near, brighter
glowed the sky, hotter and hotter grew the air, till Ripple's leaf-cloak
shrivelled up, and could no longer shield her from the heat; then she unfol=
ded
the white snow-flake, and, gladly wrapping the soft, cool mantle round her,
entered through the shining arch.
Through the red mist that floated all arou=
nd
her, she could see high walls of changing light, where orange, blue, and vi=
olet
flames went flickering to and fro, making graceful figures as they danced a=
nd
glowed; and underneath these rainbow arches, little Spirits glided, far and
near, wearing crowns of fire, beneath which flashed their wild, bright eyes;
and as they spoke, sparks dropped quickly from their lips, and Ripple saw w=
ith
wonder, through their garments of transparent light, that in each Fairy's
breast there burned a steady flame, that never wavered or went out.
As thus she stood, the Spirits gathered ro=
und
her, and their hot breath would have scorched her, but she drew the snow-cl=
oak closer
round her, saying,--
"Take me to your Queen, that I may te=
ll
her why I am here, and ask for what I seek."
So, through long halls of many-colored fir=
e,
they led her to a Spirit fairer than the rest, whose crown of flames waved =
to
and fro like golden plumes, while, underneath her violet robe, the light wi=
thin
her breast glowed bright and strong.
"This is our Queen," the Spirits
said, bending low before her, as she turned her gleaming eyes upon the stra=
nger
they had brought.
Then Ripple told how she had wandered round
the world in search of them, how the Seasons had most kindly helped her on,=
by
giving Sun-beam, Breeze, Leaf, and Flake; and how, through many dangers, sh=
e had
come at last to ask of them the magic flame that could give life to the lit=
tle
child again.
When she had told her tale, the spirits
whispered earnestly among themselves, while sparks fell thick and fast with
every word; at length the Fire-Queen said aloud,--
"We cannot give the flame you ask, for
each of us must take a part of it from our own breasts; and this we will not
do, for the brighter our bosom-fire burns, the lovelier we are. So do not ask us for this thing; b=
ut any
other gift we will most gladly give, for we feel kindly towards you, and wi=
ll
serve you if we may."
But Ripple asked no other boon, and, weepi=
ng
sadly, begged them not to send her back without the gift she had come so fa=
r to
gain.
"O dear, warm-hearted Spirits! give me
each a little light from your own breasts, and surely they will glow the
brighter for this kindly deed; and I will thankfully repay it if I can.&quo=
t;
As thus she spoke, the Queen, who had spied out a chain of jewels Ripple wo=
re
upon her neck, replied,--
"If you will give me those bright,
sparkling stones, I will bestow on you a part of my own flame; for we have =
no
such lovely things to wear about our necks, and I desire much to have
them. Will you give it me for=
what
I offer, little Spirit?"
Joyfully Ripple gave her the chain; but, as
soon as it touched her hand, the jewels melted like snow, and fell in bright
drops to the ground; at this the Queen's eyes flashed, and the Spirits gath=
ered
angrily about poor Ripple, who looked sadly at the broken chain, and though=
t in
vain what she could give, to win the thing she longed so earnestly for.
"I have many fairer gems than these, =
in
my home below the sea; and I will bring all I can gather far and wide, if y=
ou
will grant my prayer, and give me what I seek," she said, turning gent=
ly
to the fiery Spirits, who were hovering fiercely round her.
"You must bring us each a jewel that =
will
never vanish from our hands as these have done," they said, "and =
we
will each give of our fire; and when the child is brought to life, you must
bring hither all the jewels you can gather from the depths of the sea, that=
we
may try them here among the flames; but if they melt away like these, then =
we
shall keep you prisoner, till you give us back the light we lend. If you consent to this, then take =
our
gift, and journey home again; but fail not to return, or we shall seek you
out."
And Ripple said she would consent, though =
she
knew not if the jewels could be found; still, thinking of the promise she h=
ad
made, she forgot all else, and told the Spirits what they asked most surely=
should
be done. So each one gave a l=
ittle
of the fire from their breasts, and placed the flame in a crystal vase, thr=
ough
which it shone and glittered like a star.
Then,
bidding her remember all she had promised them, they led her
to
the golden arch, and said farewell.
So, down along the shining path, through m=
ist
and cloud, she travelled back; till, far below, she saw the broad blue sea =
she
left so long ago.
Gladly she plunged into the clear, cool wa=
ves,
and floated back to her pleasant home; where the Spirits gathered joyfully
about her, listening with tears and smiles, as she told all her many
wanderings, and showed the crystal vase that she had brought.
"Now come," said they, "and
finish the good work you have so bravely carried on." So to the quiet =
tomb
they went, where, like a marble image, cold and still, the little child was
lying. Then Ripple placed the=
flame
upon his breast, and watched it gleam and sparkle there, while light came
slowly back into the once dim eyes, a rosy glow shone over the pale face, a=
nd
breath stole through the parted lips; still brighter and warmer burned the =
magic
fire, until the child awoke from his long sleep, and looked in smiling wond=
er
at the faces bending over him.
Then Ripple sang for joy, and, with her si=
ster
Spirits, robed the child in graceful garments, woven of bright sea-weed, wh=
ile
in his shining hair they wreathed long garlands of their fairest flowers, a=
nd
on his little arms hung chains of brilliant shells.
"Now come with us, dear child," =
said
Ripple; "we will bear you safely up into the sunlight and the pleasant=
air;
for this is not your home, and yonder, on the shore, there waits a loving
friend for you."
So up they went, through foam and spray, t=
ill
on the beach, where the fresh winds played among her falling hair, and the
waves broke sparkling at her feet, the lonely mother still stood, gazing
wistfully across the sea. Sud=
denly,
upon a great blue billow that came rolling in, she saw the Water-Spirits
smiling on her; and high aloft, in their white gleaming arms, her child str=
etched
forth his hands to welcome her; while the little voice she so longed to hear
again cried gayly,--
"See, dear mother, I am come; and look
what lovely things the gentle Spirits gave, that I might seem more beautifu=
l to
you."
Then gently the great wave broke, and roll=
ed
back to the sea, leaving Ripple on the shore, and the child clasped in his
mother's arms.
"O faithful little Spirit! I would gl=
adly
give some precious gift to show my gratitude for this kind deed; but I have
nothing save this chain of little pearls: they are the tears I shed, and the
sea has changed them thus, that I might offer them to you," the happy =
mother
said, when her first joy was passed, and Ripple turned to go.
"Yes, I will gladly wear your gift, a=
nd
look upon it as my fairest ornament," the Water-Spirit said; and with =
the
pearls upon her breast, she left the shore, where the child was playing gay=
ly
to and fro, and the mother's glad smile shone upon her, till she sank benea=
th the
waves.
And now another task was to be done; her
promise to the Fire-Spirits must be kept.&=
nbsp;
So far and wide she searched among the caverns of the sea, and gathe=
red
all the brightest jewels shining there; and then upon her faithful Breeze o=
nce
more went journeying through the sky.
The Spirits gladly welcomed her, and led h=
er
to the Queen, before whom she poured out the sparkling gems she had gathere=
d with
such toil and care; but when the Spirits tried to form them into crowns, th=
ey
trickled from their hands like colored drops of dew, and Ripple saw with fe=
ar
and sorrow how they melted one by one away, till none of all the many she h=
ad
brought remained. Then the Fi=
re-Spirits
looked upon her angrily, and when she begged them to be merciful, and let h=
er
try once more, saying,--
"Do not keep me prisoner here. I cannot breathe the flames that g=
ive
you life, and but for this snow-mantle I too should melt away, and vanish l=
ike
the jewels in your hands. O d=
ear
Spirits, give me some other task, but let me go from this warm place, where=
all
is strange and fearful to a Spirit of the sea."
They
would not listen; and drew nearer, saying, while bright sparks
showered
from their lips, "We will not let you go, for you have
promised
to be ours if the gems you brought proved worthless; so fling
away
this cold white cloak, and bathe with us in the fire fountains,
and
help us bring back to our bosom flames the light we gave you
for
the child."
Then Ripple sank down on the burning floor,
and felt that her life was nearly done; for she well knew the hot air of the
fire-palace would be death to her.
The Spirits gathered round, and began to lift her mantle off; but
underneath they saw the pearl chain, shining with a clear, soft light, that
only glowed more brightly when they laid their hands upon it.
"O give us this!" cried they;
"it is far lovelier than all the rest, and does not melt away like the=
m; and
see how brilliantly it glitters in our hands. If we may but have this, all will =
be
well, and you are once more free."
And Ripple, safe again beneath her snow fl=
ake,
gladly gave the chain to them; and told them how the pearls they now placed=
proudly
on their breasts were formed of tears, which but for them might still be
flowing. Then the Spirits smi=
led
most kindly on her, and would have put their arms about her, and have kissed
her cheek, but she drew back, telling them that every touch of theirs was l=
ike
a wound to her.
"Then, if we may not tell our pleasure
so, we will show it in a different way, and give you a pleasant journey
home. Come out with us,"=
the
Spirits said, "and see the bright path we have made for you." So =
they
led her to the lofty gate, and here, from sky to earth, a lovely rainbow ar=
ched
its radiant colors in the sun.
"This is indeed a pleasant road,"
said Ripple. "Thank you,=
friendly
Spirits, for your care; and now farewell.&=
nbsp;
I would gladly stay yet longer, but we cannot dwell together, and I =
am
longing sadly for my own cool home.
Now Sunbeam, Breeze, Leaf, and Flake, fly back to the Seasons whence=
you
came, and tell them that, thanks to their kind gifts, Ripple's work at last=
is
done."
Then
down along the shining pathway spread before her, the happy little Spirit
glided to the sea.
"Thanks, dear Summer-Wind," said=
the
Queen; "we will remember the lessons you have each taught us, and when
next we meet in Fern Dale, you shall tell us more. And now, dear Trip, call them from=
the
lake, for the moon is sinking fast, and we must hasten home."
The Elves gathered about their Queen, and
while the rustling leaves were still, and the flowers' sweet voices mingled
with their own,
they
sang this
=
span> The moonlight fades from
flower and tree,
And the stars di=
m one
by one;
The tale is told, the song is
sung,
And the Fairy fe=
ast is
done.
The night-wind rocks the sle=
eping
flowers,
And sings to the=
m,
soft and low.
The early birds erelong will=
wake:
'T is time for the Elv=
es to
go.
O'er the sleeping earth we
silently pass,
Unseen by mortal=
eye,
And send sweet dreams, as we
lightly float
Through the quiet
moonlit sky;--
For the stars' soft eyes alo=
ne may
see,
And the flowers =
alone
may know,
The feasts we hold, the tale=
s we
tell:
So 't is time fo=
r the
Elves to go.
From bird, and blossom, and =
bee,
We learn the les=
sons
they teach;
And seek, by kindly deeds, t=
o win
A loving friend =
in
each.
And though unseen on earth we
dwell,
Sweet voices whi=
sper
low,
And gentle hearts most joyou=
sly
greet
The Elves where'=
er
they go.
When next me meet in the Fai=
ry
dell,
May the silver m=
oon's
soft light
Shine then on faces gay as n=
ow,
And Elfin hearts=
as
light.
Now spread each wing, for the
eastern sky
With sunlight so=
on
will glow.
The morning star shall light=
us
home:
Farewell! for the
Elves must go.
As the music ceased, with a soft, rustling sound the Elves spread their shining wings, and flew silently over the sleeping earth; the flowers closed their bright eyes, the little winds were still, for the feast was over, and the F= airy lessons ended.