 CHAPTER IV LILYBELL IN THISTLEDOWN Once upon a time, two little fairies went out into the world to seek their fortune. Thisledown was as gay and gallant a little elf as ever spread a wing. His purple mantle and duble of green were embroidered with the brightest threads, and the plume in his cap came always from the wing of the gayest butterfly. But he was not loved in fairyland, for like the flower whose name and colors he wore, no fair to look upon, many were 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, Lilybell. Kind, compassionate, and loving, wherever her gentle face was seen, joy and gratitude were found, no suffering flower or insect that did not love and bless the kindly fairy, and thus all elfland looked upon her as a friend. Nor did this make her vain and heedless of others. She humbly 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 and 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 fairyland, but 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 would suffer from his own faults, for others would not always be as gentle and forgiving as his kindred. So the kind little 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, and as they flew from flower 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 flowers sing, for I am sadly tired and hungry. So into the quiet garden they went, and the winds gaily 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 their 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, dear Thistle. Then she went among the flowers, and they bent lovingly before her, and laid their soft leaves against her little face, that she might see how glad they were to welcome one so good and gentle, and kindly 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, Thistle down 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 sharp thorn he carried for a sword. He broke the spider's shining webs, blamed 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 looked 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 behind 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 one tiny bud. Why are you so slow in blooming, little one? You are too old to be rocked in your green cradle longer and should be out amongst your sister-flowers, said Thistle, as he lay idly in the shadow of the tree. My little bud is not yet strong enough to venture forth, replied the rose, as she bent fondly over it. The sunlight in the rain would blight her tender form where she did blossom now, but soon she will be fit to bear them. Till then she is content to rest beside her mother and to wait. You silly flower, said Thistle down. See how quickly I will make you bloom. Your waiting is all useless. And speaking thus 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, said she, and I have watched over it with such care, hoping it would soon bloom beside me, and now you've destroyed it. How could you harm the little helpless one that never did ought to injure you? And while her tears fell like summer rain, she drooped in grief above the little bud, and sadly watched it fading in the sunlight. But Thistle down, heedless of the sorrow he had given, spread his wings and flew away. Even the sky grew dark, and heavy drops began to fall. Then Thistle hastened 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 butter-cups. But when he asked the flower to unfold her leaves and take him in, she turned her pale, soft face away, and answered sadly, I must shield my little drooping sisters whom you have harmed and cannot let you in. Even Thistle down was very angry, and turned to find shelter among the stately roses. But they showed their sharp thorns, and while their rosy faces glowed with anger, told him to be gone, or they would repay him for the wrong he had done to 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. 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. You need not come to us for another mantle, when the rain has spoiled your fine one, and do not stay here, or we will do you harm. Then they waved their broad leaves stormily, and scattered the heavy drops on his dripping garments. Now I must 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 closed their leaves yet closer, saying sharply, Go away with yourself, and do not imagine 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 the 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. But the daisies had spoken truly. The gentle little flower was dead, and her blue-eyed sisters were weeping bitterly over her faded leaves. Now I have no friends, sighed poor Thistledown, and must die of cold. Ah, if I had but minded Lilybell, I might now be dreaming beneath some flower's leaves. Others can't forgive in love, beside Lilybell and Violet, said a faint sweet voice. I have no little 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 wandering 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. But when she fancied he was sleeping, thoughts of her lost buds stole in, and the little heart beat so sadly where he lay that no sleep came, while the bitter tears 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, could yet forgive and shelter him. Never could I forgive one who had robbed me of my children. I could bow my head and died, but could give no happiness to one who had taken all my own, said Hyacinth, bending fondly over the little ones that blossomed by her side. Dear Violet is not the only one who will leave us, sobbed little Minionette. The rose-mother will fade like her little bud, and we shall lose our gentlest teacher. Her last lesson is forgiveness. Let us all show our love for her, and the gentle stranger Lily Bell, by allowing no unkind word or thought of him who has brought us all this grief. The angry words were hushed, and through the long night nothing was heard but the dropping of the rain and the low sigh of the rose. Soon the sunlight came again, and with it Lily Bell seeking for thisle-down, but he was ashamed and stole away. When the flowers told their sorrow to kind-hearted Lily Bell, she wept bitterly at the pain her friend had given, and with loving words strove to comfort those whom he had grieved. With gentle care she healed the wounded birds, and watched above the flowers he had harmed, bringing each day dew and sunlight to refresh and strengthen, till all were well again, and though sorrowing for her dead friends, still they forgave thisle for the sake of her who had done so much for them. Thus, ere long, buds fairer than that she had lost lay upon the rose-mother's breast, and for all she had suffered she was well repaid by the love 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 in life to her. Meanwhile, over hill and dale went thisle-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 the 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 honey, bid the weary fairy come with him. "'Help me to bear my honey home, and you can stay with us to-night,' he kindly said. So thisle 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. Glowworms stood at the door to light them home, and as they passed in the fairy thought how charming it must be to dwell on such a lovely place. The floor of wax was pure and white as marble, while the walls were formed of golden honeycomb, 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 where you can rest.' And he led the tired fairy to a little cell, 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 earliest gleam of golden sunlight shines, on the rippling waves that brightly flow beneath the flowering vines. Awake, awake, for the low-sweet chant of the wild bird's morning hymn comes floating by on the fragrant air through the forest cool and dim, then spread each wing and work and sing through the long bright sunny hours, or 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 soft blue eye and wakened the sleeping rose, and lightly they wave on their slender stems, fragrant and fresh and fair, waiting for us as we, singing, come to gather our honey-do there. Then spread each wing and work and sing through the long bright sunny hours, or the pleasant earth we journey forth for a day among the flowers. Soon his friend came to bid him rise, as the queen desired to speak with him. So, with his purple mantle thrown gracefully over his shoulder, and his little cap held respectfully in one hand, he followed nimble wing to the great hall, where the queen was being served by her little pages. She bore her fresh dew and honey. Some fanned her with fragrant flower-leaves, while others scattered the sweetest perfumes on the air. Little Fairy, said the queen, you are welcome to my palace, and we will gladly have you stay with us if you will obey our laws. We do not spend the pleasant summer days in idleness and pleasure, but each one labours 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 sorrow, 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 share of honey, see that your cell is sweet and fresh, as you yourself must be, rise with the sun and with him to sleep. You 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 with ought-save gentleness and gratitude. Now will you stay with us and learn what even mortal seek to know, that labour brings true happiness? And Thistle said he would stay and dwell with them, for he was tired of wandering alone, and thought he might live here till Lilybell should come, or till he was weary of the kind-hearted bees. Then they took away his gay garments and dressed them 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 sunset 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 than the love and praise of their kind queen, now disobeyed and blamed her for all she 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 would rot 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, Tissle down, we took you in, a friendless stranger, fed and clothed you. We made our home as pleasant to you as we could, and in return, for all our care, you have brought discontent and trouble to my subjects, grief and care to me. I cannot let my peaceful kingdom be disturbed by you. Therefore go and seek another home. You may find other 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, willful bees whom he had first made discontented, bidding them to follow him and win the honey the queen had stored up for the winter. Let us feast and make merry in the pleasant summer time, said Tissle. Winter is far off. Why should we waste these lovely days, toiling to lay up the food we might enjoy now? Come, we will take what we have made and think no more of what the queen has said. So while the industrious bees were out among the flowers, he led the drones to the hive and took possession of the honey, destroying and laying waste the home of the kind bees. Then, fearing that in their grief and anger they might harm him, Tissle flew away to seek new friends. After many wanderings he came at length to a great forest, and here beside a still lake he stayed to rest. Delicate woodflowers grew near him in the deep green moss, with drooping heads as if they listened to the soft winds singing among the pines. Bright-eyed birds peeped at him from their nests, and many colored insects danced above the cool still lake. "'This is a pleasant place,' said Tissle. "'It shall be my home for a while. Some hither, blue dragonfly, I would gladly make a friend of you, for I'm all alone.' The dragonfly folded his shining wings beside 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 Tissle, and many kind friends 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 beauty 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 dragonfly besought him to leave the quiet home he had disturbed. Then Tissle was very angry, and while the dragonfly was sleeping among the flowers that hung over the lake, he led 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. Then Tissle flew away through the wood, leaving sorrow and trouble behind him. He had not journeyed far before he grew weary, 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 struggled to get free. Lie still, you naughty fairy, you are in the brownies' power, and shall be well punished for your cruelty ere we let you go. So poor Tissle lay sorrowfully, wondering what would come of it, and wishing Lilybell 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 through the air, and gathered round him, while one who wore an acorn cap on his head, 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 keep 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 and gentle deeds, and forget yourself in giving joy 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 by a crevice through which came a single gleam of sunlight, and there, through long, long days, poor Tissle sat alone, and gazed with wistful eyes at a little opening, longing to be out among 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 might atone for his wrongdoing. 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 leaves with his small share of water, but the little vine might live, even if it darkened more and more his dim cell. The watchful brownies saw this kind deed, and brought him fresh flowers and many things which Tissle gratefully received, though he never knew it was his kindness to the vine that gained for him these pleasures. Thus did poor Tissle strive to be more gentle and unselfish, and grew daily happier and better. Now while Tissle down 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 the queen bee's grief, brought back her discontented subjects, restored the home to peace and order, and left them blessing her. Thus she journeyed on till she reached the forest where Tissle down had lost his freedom. She unbound the starving dragonfly, and tended the wounded birds, but though all learned to love her, none could tell where the brownies had borne her friend, till a little wind came whispering by, and 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 stood and listened in vain, when one day, as she wandered through a lonely dell, she heard a faint low sound of music, and soon a distant voice mournfully singing. It shines the summer sun, soft is the summer air, gayly the wood-bird sing, flowers are blooming fair, but deep in the dark cold rock sadly I dwell, longing for the dear friend, Lily Bell, Lily Bell. Tissle, dear Tissle, where are you? Joyfully cried Lily Bell, as she flew from rock to rock, but the voice was still, and she would 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 air I have sought for thee long, guided by birds and flowers, and now by thy song. Tissle down, Tissle down, 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 Tissle down was found. So Lily Bell made her home in the shadow of the vine, and brought such joy to Tissle 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 now that 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 whether she had gone. Oh, let me go to her, prayed Tissle. If she is in sorrow I will comfort her and show my gratitude for all she has done to me. Dear Brownie set me free, and when she is found I will come and be your prisoner again. 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 wandering fairy from his prison to a group of tall, drooping ferns beneath whose shade a large white Lily had been placed, forming a little tent, within which, on a couch of thick 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 Tissle folded his arms tenderly about her. It is a magic slumber, and she will not wake till you bring hither gifts from the earth, air, and water spirits. Tis a long and weary task, for you have made no friends to help you, and will have to seek for them alone. This is the trial we shall give you, 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 await to welcome you and love you still more fondly than before. Then Tissle, with a last look on the little friend he loved so well, set forth alone to his long task. The home of the earth spirits was the first to find, and no one would tell him where to look. So far and wide he wandered, through 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 all, 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. The poor Tissle found few to love or care for him. Long he wandered, and carefully he sought, but could not find the earth spirits home. And when at last he reached the pleasant garden where he and Lily Bell first parted, he said within himself, Here I will stay a while, and try to win by kindly deeds the flowers for givness 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 spirit, so I shall be worthier of 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 Tissle, and he longed to tell them how changed he had become, but they would not listen. So he tried to show by quiet deeds of kindness that he meant no harm to them, and soon the kind-hearted birds pitied the lonely fairy, and when he came near sang cheering songs, and dropped ripe 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 insets, and helping the busy ants to bear their heavy loads, they shared the pity of the birds, and longed to trust him, but they dared not yet. He came one day, while wandering through the 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 Tissle came, he saw with sorrow how she bade them close their green curtains, and concealed themselves beneath the leaves, for there was danger near, and drooping still more closely over them, she seemed to wait with trembling fear the cruel fairies 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 Tissle, bending tenderly above them, said, Dear flower, forgive the sorrow I once brought you, and trust me now for Lilybell's sake. Her gentleness has changed my cruelty to kindness, and I would gladly repay all for the harm I have done, but none will 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, Tissle, for you are indeed much changed. Make your home among us, and my sister flowers will soon learn to love you as you deserve. Not for sweet Lilybell'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 Tissle to our home. Then the little buds raved their rosy faces, danced again upon their stems, and nodded kindly at Tissle, who smiled on them through happy tears, and kissed the sweet forgiving rose, who loved and trusted him when most forlorn and friendless. But the other flowers wandered among themselves, and Hyacinth said, If rose-leaf is his friend, surely we 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 Minionette. Surely some good spirit has changed the wicked Tissle into this good little elf. See how tenderly he lifts aside the leaves that overshadow pale hair-bell, and listen now how softly he sings as he rocks little Eglentine to sleep. He has done many friendly things, though non-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 Minionette was right, and spreading wide their leaves they bade him come and drink their dew, and lie among the fragrant petals, striving to cheer his sorrow. Tissle told them all, and after much whispering together, they said, Yes, we will help you find the earth spirits, for you are striving to be good, and for love of Lilybell we will do much for you. So they called a little bright-eyed Mole, and said, Downeyback, we have given you a pleasant home among our roots, and you are a grateful little friend, so when you guide dear Tissle to the earth spirits' home, Downeyback said yes, and Tissle, thanking the kindly flowers, followed his little guide through long, dark galleries deeper and deeper into the ground, while a glowworm 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. Dear Downeyback and Glimmer, the glowworm, 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. Then they went quickly up the winding path, and Tissle, guided by the sweet music, went on alone. He soon reached a lovely spot, whose golden 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 Tissle stood watching the brilliant forms that flashed and sparkled round him, but he missed the flowers in 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 Tissle Downeyback was too sad for that, and when he told them all his story they no longer urged, but sought to comfort him, and one whom they called little 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 the brownies, do you see those golden bells that make such music as we waved them 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 Tissle said, No task will be too hard for me to do for dear Lilybell'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 hear? asked Tissle. I will tell, replied little Sparkle, 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 come 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 jewels into lovely forms, and make the good luck pennies which we give to mortals whom we love, and here you must toil to the golden flower as one. Then Tissle went among the spirits, and joined in their walks. 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 one. But Tissle could not stay, for half his task was not yet done, and he longed for sunlight in Lily Bell. So, taking a kind farewell, he hastened 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 shone brightly through the lily-leaves upon her, as Tissle 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. Take now one look at your little friend, and then go forth and seek from the air spirits your second gift. Then Tissle said farewell again to Lily Bell, 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-leave 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 Bell 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, thought Tissle, 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 stoned softly to the hive, and placing it near the door, concealed himself to watch. Soon his friend Nimblewing came flying home, and when he spied the little cup, he hummed with joy, and called 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'll be a fit gift for her, and they joyfully took it in, a little dreaming who had placed it there. So each day Tissle filled a flower cup, and laid it at the door, and each day the bees wandered 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 elf bringing soft moss for their nests, and food for their hungry young ones, while 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 action. At length as he lay sleeping in a flower-bowl, a little bee came wandering by, and knew him for the wicked Tissle. So he called his friends, and as they flew murmuring around him, he awoke. What shall we do to you, naughty elf? said they. You 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 would not yet forgive an old Asaro Tissle had caused them long ago. No, no, that were very cruel, dear Buzz, said a little hum. Let us take him to our queen, and she will tell us how 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, you do not know that this is the good fairy who was dwelt so quietly among us, watching over bird 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 is done wrong he is repented of it, as you may see. Can this be the 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 see 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 him where the airspirits dwelt, for he must not forget dear Lilybell, and to his great joy the queen said, Yes, and Bade Little Hum guide Thistle to Cloudland. Little Hum joyfully obeyed, and Thistle followed him as he flew higher and higher among the soft clouds, till in the 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 airspirits home. The sky was gold and purple like an autumn sunset, and long walls of brilliant clouds lay round him, a rosy light shown through the silver mist, on gleaming columns and the rainbow roof. Soft, fragrant winds went whispering by, and airy little forms were flitting to and fro. Long Thistle wondered at the beauty around him, and then he went among the shining spirits, told his tale, and asked a gift. But they answered like the earthspirits, You must serve us first, and then we will gladly give you a robe of sunlight like our own. 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, said 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 starlight and her sister spirits, he flew over the moonlit earth, dropping cool dew among 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 heart, and stronger his power of giving joy to others. At length starlight bade him work no more, and gladly gave him the gift he had won. Then his second task was done, and he flew gaily back to the green earth 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 win 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 wandering through the forest where the brownies took him captive, he stopped beside the quiet lake. As he stood there he heard a sound of pain, and looking in the tall grass at his side he saw the dragonfly whose kindness he once repaid by pain and sorrow, and who now lay suffering and alone. Thistle bent tenderly by 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 spoke 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 when he slept, and singing sweet songs to cheer him when awake. When often when poor Flutter longed to be dancing once again over the blue waves, the fairy bore him in his arms to the lake, and on a broad leaf, with a green flag for a sail, they floated on the still water, while the dragonfly's companions flew about him, playing merry games. At length the broken wing was well, and Thistle said he must again seek the water spirits. I can tell you where to find them, said Flutter. You 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 waves. You will find some kind friend to aid you on your way, and so farewell. Thistle followed the little brook, as it flowed through field and valley, growing ever larger till it reached the sea. Here the wind blew freshly, 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 Lilybell's sake I must not fear or falter now, said Thistle, so he flew hither and dither 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 and 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, Poor little elf, what has befallen you? These rough waves are not fit playmates for so delicate a thing as you. Tell me you're sorrow, and I will comfort you. And Thistle, looking up, saw a white sea bird at his side, who tried with friendly words to cheer him, so he told all his wanderings and how he sought the sea spirits. Finally if be and blossom do their part to help you, birds should age you too, said the sea bird. I will call my friend, the Nautilus, and he will bear you safely to the coral palace where the spirits dwell. So spreading his great wings he flew away, and soon Thistle saw a little boat come dancing over the waves, and wait beside 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 a spirit's home. Nay, close your eyes, and trust to me, 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 their strange and lovely home. The 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 the waves cast silvery shadows on the ground where sparkling stones glowed in the sand. A cool fresh wind swept through the 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 wandering elf, they gathered round him, bringing pearl-shells heaped with precious stones and all the rare, strange gifts that lie beneath the sea. But Thistle wished for none of these, and when his tail 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 pearls like those they wore. But Thistle had gained strength and courage in his wanderings and did not falter now, when they led him 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 waves that danced above. With a patient hope that he might yet be worthy of Lilybell, the fairy left the lovely spirits and their pleasant home to toil among the coral builders, where all was strange and dim. Long, long he worked, but still the 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, the 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 fairy floating on the great wild sea. Day after day went by, and slowly Thistle's task drew towards an end. Bizzily 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 court. Higher and higher grew the coral bowels, and 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 his 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 waves he swiftly glided, and shaking the bright drops from his wind, swords singing up to the sunny sky. Come 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 their 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 paths, never had they seemed so fair. But when he came where his little friend had slept, it was no longer the dark silent spot where he last saw her. Birds hung from every tree, and the fairest flowers filled the air with their sweet breath. Birds' gay voices echoed far and wide, and the little brook went singing by beneath the arching 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 row was folded round her little form. The warmest sunlight fell upon her, and the softest breezes lifted her shining hair. Happy tears fell fast as Thistle folded his arms around her, crying, Oh, Lily Bell, dear Lily Bell, awake, I have been 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 around her. Dear Thistle, what mean these fair things, and why are we in this lovely place? Dear 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 wondered 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 low before him. You have learned the beauty of a gentle, kindly heart, dear Thistle, and now you are 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, dear 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 yonder come the spirits with their gifts to Thistle, said the brownie, and as he pointed with his wand out from among the mossy roots of an old tree came trooping the earth's spirits, their flower bells ringing softly as they came, and their jeweled garments glittering in the sun. On to where Thistle down 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 toiled so faithfully to win for another, let us offer now as a token of our love for you. As she ceased, down through the air came floating bands of lovely air spirits, bringing a shining robe, and they too toiled their love for the gentle fairy who had dwelt with them. Then softly on the breeze came distant music, 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 sang the birds, while all the forest fairies cried with silvery voices, Lily Bell and Thistle down, long live our king and queen. Have you a tale for us too, dear Violet I, 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 Goldenrod. End of Chapter 4. Recording by Sarah Williams, Germantown, Maryland, July 2008. Chapter 5. Little Bud 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 home was done. The four blue eggs lay in the soft nest, and the little wife sat still and patient on them, while the husband sung and told her charming tales, and brought her sweet berries and little worms. Things went smoothly on, till one day she found in the nest a little white egg, with the golden band about it. My friend cried she, come and see, where can this fine egg have come from? My four are here, and this also, what think you of it? The husband shook his head gravely, and said, Be not alarmed, my love, it is doubtless some good fairy who has given 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 their 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 Dane Brownbreast's little child, and the tiny maiden talked to them, and sung so merrily, that they could have listened forever. Soon she was the joy of the whole forest, dancing from tree to tree, making every nest to 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 little robes, and thus she found garments in the flowers of the field, and a happy home with mother Brownbreast, and all in the wood from the stately trees to the little mosses in the turf were friends to the merri child. And each day she taught the young birds sweet songs, and as they go music rung through the old forest, the stern, dark pines cease their solemn waving, that they might hear the sounds stealing through the dim wood paths, and mortal children came to listen, saying softly, hear the flowers sing, and touch them not, for the fairies are here. Then came a band of sad little elves to bud, 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 them whence they came. We dwelt once in fairyland, and oh how 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 music sounds like fairy songs, and you have such a friendly way with you, and speak so gently to us. It is good to be near one so lovely and so kind, and you can tell us how we may again become fair and innocent. Say, we may stay with 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 repentant, 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 can 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 heart's best love can make you. The tidings of buds depart you flew through the forest, and all her friends came to say farewell. As with the morning sun she 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-Brest, your friend Golden Wing shall carry you. Call him hither, that I may seat you rightly, for if you should fall off my heart would break. Then up came Golden Wing, and bud was safely seated on the cushion of violet leaves, and it was really charming to see her merry little face, peeping from under the broad brim of her cow-slip hat. As her butterfly steed stood waving his bright wings in the sunlight, then came the bee with his yellow honey 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, lest the sun should shine too brightly, while the ant came bringing a tiny strawberry, lest she should miss her favourite fruit. The mother gave her good advice, and the puffer 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 gaily together, till she passed out a sight over the hills, and they saw her no more. And now bud left the old forest far behind her. Golden wing bore her swiftly along, and she looked down on the green mountains and the peasant cottages that stood among overshadowing trees, and the earth looked bright with its broad, blue rivers winding through soft meadows, the singing birds and the flowers who kept their bright eyes ever on the sky. And she sung gaily as they floated in the clear air, while her friend kept time with his waving wings, and ever as they went along all grew fairer, and thus they came to fairy land. As bud passed through the gates, she no longer wondered that the exiled fairies wept and sorrowed for the lovely home they had lost. Bright clouds floated in the sunny sky, casting a rainbow light on the fairy palaces below, where the elves were dancing, while the low sweet voices of the singing flowers sounded softly 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 little bud would not linger, for the forms of the weeping fairies were before her, and though the blossoms nodded gaily on their stems to welcome her and the soft winds kissed her cheek, she would not stay, but onto the flower palace she went into a pleasant hall whose walls were formed of crimson roses, amid whose leaves sat little elves making sweet music on their harps. When they saw bud, they gathered round her and led her through the flower-reefed arches to a group of the most beautiful fairies who were gathered about as 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 that the exiled fairies might be forgiven and not to be left to pine far from their friends and kindred. And as she 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 Dewdrop replied, Little maiden, your prayer has softened my heart. They shall not be left sorrowing and alone, nor shall you go back without a kindly word to cheer and 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 forever without the walls of fairy land. God speed to you and farewell cried they all as with loving messages to their poor friends they bore her to the gates. Day after day toiled little bud, cheering the fairies, who angry and disappointed would not listen to her gentle words, but turned away and sat alone weeping. They grieved her kind heart with many cruel words, but patiently she bore with them, and when they told her they could never perform so hard a task and must dwelt forever in the dark forest, 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, or the power would come again to their now useless ones. Then they planted the lilies, but they soon drooped and died, and no light came to their crowns. They did no gentle deeds, they cared only for themselves, and when they found their labor was in vain they tried no longer, but sat weeping. Thud, 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 blossoms, 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 thud went forth to fairy land, and stood with beating hearts before the gates, where crowds of fairy friends came forth to welcome them. But when Queen Dewdrop touched them with her wand, as they passed in, the light faded from their crowns, their robes became like withered leaves, and their wands were powerless. Amid the tears of all the fairies, the Queen led them to the gates, and said, Farewell, it is not in my power to aid you. Innocence and love are not within your hearts, and we're at night 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 sung the weeping fairies, as the gates closed on their outcast friends, who, humbled and broken-hearted, 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. They wept no longer, but watched little bud, as she daily tended the flowers, restoring their strength and beauty, or, with gentle words, flew from nest to nest, teaching the little birds to live happily together. And wherever she went, blessing fell, and loving hearts were filled with gratitude. Then one by one, the elves secretly did some little work of kindness, and found a quiet joy come back to repay them. Flowers looked lovingly up as they passed. Birds sung 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 them, but human beings also. For with tender hands they guided little children from danger, and kept their young hearts free from evil thoughts. They whispered soothing words to the sick, and brought sweet odours and fair flowers to their lonely rooms. They sent lovely visions to the old and blind, to make their hearts young and bright with happy thoughts. But most tenderly did they watch over the poor and sorrowing, and many a poor mother blessed the unseen hands that laid food before her hungry little ones, and folded warm garments round their naked limbs. Many a poor man wondered at the fair flowers that sprung up in his little garden plot, cheering him with their bright 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 leaves 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 Monday to see the friends they had lost. While the joy at their own hearts made their life full of happiness, one day came little bud to them saying, Listen, dear friends, I have a task to offer you. It is a great sacrifice for you light-loving fairies to dwell through the long winter in the dark, cold earth, watching over the flower roots 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 leaves. It is a wearisome task, and I can give you no reward for all your tender care, but the blessings of the gentle flowers 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 fly 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 the flowers bloom again, I will be with you to welcome back our friends from over 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 world. Should evil befall you, our hearts would break. We will labour trustingly in the earth, and thoughts of you shall cheer us on, for without you we had been worthless beings, and never known the joy the kindly actions bring. Yes, dear bud, we will gladly toil among the roots, that the fair flowers may wear their gayest robes 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 them, and safely dreamed the flowers, till summer winds should call them forth, while 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. Then with eager feet they hastened to the earth above, where over hill and valley, bright flowers and budding trees smiled in the warm sunlight, blossoms bent lovingly before them, and rung their coloured bells till the fragrant air was full of music, while the stately trees waved their great arms above them, and 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 flowers were in their fullest beauty, when bud bathed the fairies come with her. Mounted on bright winged butterflies, they flew over forest and meadow, till with joyful eyes they saw the flower crown 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 graceful flower sat the queen, while on the broad green leaves around it stood the bright-eyed little maids of honour. Then amid the deep silence, little bud, leading the fairies to the throne, said, Dear Queen, I here bring back your subjects, wiser for their sorrow, better for their hard trial, and now might any queen be proud of them, and vow to learn from them that giving joy and peace to others brings it forfall to us, bearing a double happiness in the blessings to those we help. Through the dreary months, when they might have dwelt among fair southern flowers, beneath a smiling sky, 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 their own good deeds, and the joy they always bring. This they have done unmermeringly, and alone, and now far and wide, flower blessings fall upon them, and the summer winds bear the glad tidings unto those who droop in sorrow, and new joy and strength it brings, as they look glongingly for the friends who gentle care have brought such happiness to their fair kindred. Are they not worthy of your love, Dear 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 they folded over them. As Bud ceased, she touched the wandering fairies with her wand, and the dark faded garments fell away, and beneath the robes of lily leaves glittered pure and spotless in the sunlight. Then, while happy tears fell, Queen Dewdrop 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 their 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 fairyland had learned a lesson from gentle little Bud. Now, little Sunbeam, what have you to tell us, said the Queen, looking down on a bright-eyed elf who sat half hidden in the deep moths 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 sung. End of Chapter Five, Little Bud. In a quiet, pleasant meadow beneath a summer sky, where green old trees their branches waved, and winds went singing by, where a little brook went rippling so musically low, and passing clouds cast shadows on the waving grass below, where low, sweet notes of brooding birds stole out on the fragrant air, and golden sunlight shown undimbed, on all most fresh and fair. Their bloomed a lovely sisterhood of happy little flowers, together in this pleasant home, through quiet summer hours. No rude to the promise. together, in this pleasant home, through quiet summer hours. No rude hand came to gather them, no chilling winds to blight. Warm sunbeams smiled on them by day, and soft dews fell at night. So here along the brookside, beneath the green old trees, the flowers dwelt among their friends, the sunbeams and the breeze. One morning, as the flowers awoke, fragrant and fresh and fair, a little worm came creeping by and begged a shelter there. Ah, pity and love me, sighed the worm, I am lonely, poor and weak. A little spot for a resting place, dear flowers, is all I seek. I am not fair and have dwelt unloved by butterfly bird and bee. They little knew that in this dark form lay the beauty they yet may see. Then let me lie in the deep green moss and weave my little tomb, and sleep my long unbroken sleep till spring's first flowers come. Then will I come in fairer dress and your gentle care repay, by the grateful love of the humble worm. And flowers, oh let me stay. But the wild rose showed her little thorns, while her soft face glowed with pride. The violet hid between the drooping ferns, and the daisy turned aside. Little Houstonia scornfully laughed, as she danced on her slender stem, while the cow slip bent to the rippling waves, and whispered the tale to them. A blue-eyed grass looked down on the worm, as it silently turned away, and cried, Thou wilt harm our delicate leaves, and therefore thou canst not stay. Then a sweet, soft voice called out from far, Come hither, poor worm, to me. The sun lies warm in this quiet spot, and I'll share my home with thee. The wandering flowers looked up to see who had offered the worm a home. Twas a clover blossom, whose fluttering leaves seemed beckoning him to come. It dwelt in a sunny little nook, where cool winds wrestled by, and murmuring bees and butterflies came, on the flowers breast to lie. Down through the leaves the sunlight stole, and seemed to linger there, as if it loved to brighten the home of one so sweet and fair. Its rosy face smiled kindly down, as the friendless 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 sleep till spring, with my leaves above thee spread. I pity and love thee, friendless worm, though thou art not graceful or fair. For many a dark, unlovely form 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 hest thou found in me, And rest in my little home. Then, deep in its quiet, mossy bed, Sheltered from sun and shower, the grateful worm spun its winter tomb In the shadow of the flower. And clover guarded well its rest, Till autumn's leaves were sear, till all her sister flowers were gone, And her winter sleep drew near. Then her withered leaves were softly spread, Or the sleeping worm below, near the faithful little flower lay, Beneath the winter snow. Spring came again in the flowers rose From their quiet winter graves, and gaily danced On their slender stems, and sang with the rippling waves. Softly the warm winds kissed their cheeks, Brightly the sunbeams fell, as one by one They came again in their summer homes to dwell, And little clover bloomed once more, rosy, Sweet and fair, and patiently watched by the mossy bed, for the worm still slumbered There. Then her sister flowers scornfully cried As they waved in the summer air. The ugly worm was friendless and poor, Little clover, why shouldst thou care? Then watch no more, nor dwell alone, Away from thy sister flowers. Come dance and feast, and spend with us These pleasant summer hours. We pity thee, foolish little flower, To trust what the false worm said. He will not come in fairer dress, For he lies in the green moss dead. But little clover still watched on Alone in her sunny home. She did not doubt the poor worm's truth, And trusted he would 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 cried aloud, Clover, thy watch was vain. He only sought a shelter here, And never will come again. The unkind flowers danced for joy, When they saw him thus depart. For the love of a beautiful butterfly Is dear to a flower's heart. They feared he would stay in Clover's home, And her tender care repay, So they danced for joy when at last he rose, And silently flew away. Then little clover bowed her head, While her soft tears fell like dew. For her gentle heart was grieved to find, That her sister's words were true, And the insect she had watched so long, When helpless, poor, and lone, Thankless for all her faithful care, On his golden wings had flown. But as she drooped in silent grief, She heard little Daisy cry, Oh, sisters, look, I see him now, A far in the sunny sky. Daisy is floating back from Cloudland now, Born by the fragrant air. Spread wide your leaves, That he may choose the flower he deems most fair. Then the wild rose glowed with a deeper blush, As she proudly waved on her stem. The cow slip bent to the clear blue waves, And made her mirror of them. Little Houstonia merrily danced, And spread her white leaves wide, While Daisy whispered her joy and hope, As she stood by her gay friend's side. Violet peeped from the tall green ferns, And lifted her soft blue eye, To watch the glittering form, That shone afar in the summer sky. They thought no more of the ugly worm, Who once had wakened 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 fair the blossoms grew. Each welcomed him in her sweetest 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 floated on, By violet, Daisy and rose. See it flew to the pleasant home Of the flower most truly fair. On Clover's breast he softly lit, And folded his bright wings there. Dear flower, the butterfly whispered low, Long hast thou waited for me. Now I am come, and my grateful love Shall brighten thy home for thee. Thou hast loved and cared for me when alone, Hast watched o'er me long and well, And now will I strive to show the thanks The poor worm could not tell. Sunbeam and breeze shall come to thee, And the coolest do's that fall. What air a flower can wish is thine, For thou art worthy all. And the home thou shared with 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 bright summer hours, Through sunshine and through shower, Together in their happy home, Dwelled butterfly and flower. Ah, that it's 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 moonlight 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, Dear Queen, said the elves, As they folded their wings beside her. Now summer wind said moonlight, Till your turn comes, do you sit here And fan me while I tell this tale of? End of Clover Blossom. In a large and pleasant garden sat little Annie all alone and she seemed very sad, For drops that were not due fell fast upon the flowers beside her, Who looked wonderingly up and bent still nearer, As if they longed to cheer and comfort her. 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 wind or flower, Still the bright tears fell, And she forgot all but her sorrow. Little Annie, tell me why you weep, Said a low voice in her ear, And looking up the child beheld a little figure Standing on a vine leaf at her side, And shining wings were folded on a white and glittering robe That fluttered in the wind. Who are you, lovely little thing? cried Annie, Smiling through her tears. I am a fairy, little child, And I come to help and comfort you. Now tell me why you weep, And let me be your friend, Replied the spirit, as she smiled more kindly still On Annie's wondering face. And are you really then a little elf, Such as I read in my fairy books? Do you write on butterflies, Sleep in flower cups, And live among the clouds? Yes, all these things I do, And many strangers still, That all your fairy books can never tell. But now, dear Annie, said the fairy-bending mirror, Tell me why I find no sunshine on your face, Why are these great drops shining on the flowers, And why do you sit alone When bird and bee 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 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 passions That you cherish now, And make your heart a home For gentle feelings and happy thoughts. The task is hard, But I will give you this fairy flower To help and counsel you. Bend hither that I might place it in your breast, No hand can take it hence, Till I unsay the spell That holds it there. As thus she spoke, the elf took from her bosom A graceful flower, whose snow-white leaves Shown on with a strange, soft light. This is a fairy flower, said the elf, Invisible to every eye, save yours. Now listen while I tell you its power, Annie. When your heart is filled with loving thoughts, When some kindly deed has been done, Some duty well performed, Then from the flower There will arise the sweetest, softest fragrance To reward and gladden you. But when an unkind word is on your lips, When a selfish, angry feeling rises in your heart, Or an unkind, cruel deed is to be done, Then you will 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 and joy Of your own heart, 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, cry, Annie? I will be true and listen to my little bell Whenever it may ring, but shall I never see you more? Ah, if you would only stay with me, I should indeed be good. I cannot stay now, little Annie, said the elf. But when another spring comes around, I shall be here again 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 arms around Annie's neck, Layed a soft kiss on her cheek, And, spreading wide her shining wings, Flew singing up to the white clouds, Floating in the sky. 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 passed 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 fairy 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 music of its warning chime Ranged often in her ear. When the first 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 words 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 thoughts would come to tempt her, She would yield, and unkind words Fell from her lips. And then the flower drooped pale and scentless, The fairy bell rang mournfully. Annie would forget her better resolutions, And be again a selfish, willful 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 fairy spell still held it fast, And all her angry words but made it ring a louder, sadder peel. Then she paid no heed to the silvery music sounding in her ear, And each day grew still more unhappy, Discontented and unkind. So on 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 the now constant echo of the mournful music made her very sad. One sunny morning when the fresh cool winds 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 alone could take the magic blossom from her breast. 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, I will not listen to this tiresome music more, Nor wear this withered flower longer. So out into the fields she went, Where the long grass rustled as she passed, And timid birds looked at her from their nests, Their lovely wildflowers nodded in the wind, And opened wide their fragrant leaves To welcome in the murmuring bees, While butterflies, like winged flowers, Dance and glittered in the sun. Little Annie looked, searched, And asked them all if anyone could tell her Of the fairy whom she sought, But the birds looked wonderingly at her With soft bright eyes and still saying on, The flowers nodded wisely on their stems, But did not speak, While butterfly and bee buzzed and flooded away, One far too busy, the other too idle, To stay and tell her what she asked. Then she went through broad fields of yellow grain That waved around her like a golden forest, Hear her crickets chirp, 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 hillsides Went her little feet, Long she searched and vainly she called, But still no fairy came. Then by the riverside she went, And asked the gay dragonflies and the cool white lilies if the fairy had been there, But the blue waves rippled on the white sand at her feet, And no voice answered her. Then into the forest little Annie went, And as she passed along the dim, cool paths, The wood flowers smiled up in her face, Gay squirrels peeped at her, And they swung them in the vines, And doves cooed softly as she wandered by, But no one could answer her. So weary with her long and useless search, She sat amid the ferns and feasted on the rosy strawberries that grew beside her, Watching meanwhile the crimson evening clouds that glowed around the setting sun. The night went 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 drew the little Annie's head. All ferns bent to shield her from 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 the green moss, She lay asleep amid the woodflowers In the dim old forest. And all night long beside her, Stood the fairies she had sought, And by the 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. The magic flower was ringing at soft warning, But she paid no heed to anything, Saved her own troubled thoughts, Thus she sat, when suddenly a low voice Whispered into 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 forever. Then Annie saw, with fear and wonder, That the angry words she uttered changed Into dark, unlovely forms, Each showing plainly from what fault Or passion it had sprung. Some of the shapes had scowling faces And bright, fiery eyes. These were 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 shapes of selfishness. Spirits of pride were there, Who folded their shadowy garments Around them and turned scornfully 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 and 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 grow ever stronger, darker, And more unlovely to her eyes. They seemed to cast black shadows Over all around, To dim the sunshine, Blight the flowers, And drive away all bright and lovely things. While rising slowly round her, Annie saw a high, dark wall 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, if the flowers near her died, Hungeringly the sun faded, But at last they both were gone, And left her all alone behind her gloomy wall. Then the spirits gathered round her, Whispering strange things in her ear, Bitting 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, And on her breast she saw her fairy flower, Upon whose snow-white leaves her tears lay shining. Clearer and brighter grew the radiant light, Till the evil spirits turned away to the dark shadow of the wall, And left the child alone. The light and perfume of the flowers seemed to bring new strength to Annie, And she rose up, saying, As she bent to kiss the blossom on her breast, Dear flower, help and guide me now, And I will listen to your voice, And will 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 would have led her back, And made all dark and dreary as before. Long and hard she struggled, And tears 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 tempt her. Meanwhile, green flowering vines Crept up the high dark wall, And hid its roughness from her sight. And over these she watched most tenderly, For soon, wherever green leaves and flowers 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 forms 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 evil dared to enter in, While slowly sank the gloomy wall, And over the reeds of fragrant flowers She passed out into the pleasant world again, The fairy gift no longer 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 forever. Remember well the lesson of your 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 the forest waken into life, She thought of the strange form 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 child. And as the thought came to her mind, The flower raised its drooping head, And looking up into the earnest little face Bent over it, Seemed by its fragrant breath To answer Annie's silent thought, And strengthened her for what might come. Meanwhile, the forest was a stir, Birds sang their gay good morrows from tree to tree, While leaf and flower turned to greet the sun, Who rose up smiling on the world, And so beneath the forest boughs, And through the dewy fields went Little Annie's home, Better and wiser for her dream. Autumn flowers were dead and gone, Yellow leaves lay rustling on the ground, Bleak winds went whistling through the naked trees, And cold white winter snow fell softly down. Yet now, when all without looked dark and dreary, On Little Annie's breast the fairy flower Bloomed more beautiful than ever. The memory 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 warming 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 own, Each day growing richer in the love of others and happier in herself. Often she was tempted, but remembering her dream, She listened only to the music of the fairy bell, And the unkind thought 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, Farer and sweeter grew the flower, Till spring came smiling over the earth, And woke 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, 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 spread 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 done 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 I have brought another gift from Fairyland, 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 to change for 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 galey As they rocked amid the leaves. On every breeze bright airy spirits came floating by. Some fanned her cheek with their cool breath, And waved her long hair to and fro, While others winged the flower bells, And made a pleasant rustling among the leaves. In the fountain where the water danced and sparkled in the sun, A stride of every drop she saw merry little spirits, Who splashed and floated in the clear, cool waves, And sang as galey as the flowers on whom they scattered glittering dew. The tall trees, as their branches rustled in the wind, Sing a low, dreamy song, while the raving grass was filled With little voices she had never heard before. Butterflies whispered lovely tales in her ear, And birds sang cheerful songs in a sweet language She had never understood before. Earth and air seemed filled with beauty and with music She had never dreamed of until now. Oh, 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, replied 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, Others is but a pleasant summer world. They never know the language of butterfly or bird or flower, And they are blind to all 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 tears 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 Annie, 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 might find All fair and bright when I next come. Then, with a kind farewell, the gentle fairy 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 enchanted garden, Where all was brightened with the radiant light And fragrant with the perfume of her fairy flower. When moonlight ceased, summer wind laid down her rosely fan And leaning back in her acorn cup Told this tale of Ripple, the water spirit. End of chapter seven.