Flower Fables

Louisa May AlcottFlower Fables THE summer moon shone brightly down upon the sleeping earth, while far away from mortal eyes danced the Fairy folk. Fire-flies hung in bright clusters on the dewy leaves, that waved in the cool night-wind and the flowers stood gazing, in very wonder, at the little Elves, who lay among the fern-leaves, swung in the vine-boughs, sailed on the lake in lily cups, or danced on the mossy ground, to the music of the hare-bells, who rung out their merriest peal in honor of the night. Under the shade of a wild rose sat the Queen and her little Maids of Honor, beside the silvery mushroom where the feast was spread. 'Now, my friends,' said she, 'to while away the time till the bright moon goes down, let us each tell a tale, or relate what we have done or learned this day. I will begin with you, Sunny Lock,' added she, turning to a lovely little Elf, who lay among the fragrant leaves of a primrose. With a gay smile, 'Sunny Lock' began her story. 'As I was painting the bright petals of a blue bell, it told me this tale.'THREE little Fairies sat in the fields eating their breakfast each among the leaves of her favorite flower, Daisy, Primrose, and Violet, were happy as Elves need be. The morning wind gently rocked them to and fro, and the sun shone warmly down upon the dewy grass, where butterflies spread their gay wings, and bees with their deep voices sung among the flowers while the little birds hopped merrily about to peep at them. On a silvery mushroom was spread the breakfast little cakes of flower-dust lay on a broad green leaf, beside a crimson strawberry, which, with sugar from the violet, and cream from the yellow milkweed, made a fairy meal, and their drink was the dew from the flowers’ bright leaves. 'Ah me,' sighed Primrose, throwing herself languidly back, 'how warm the sun grows! give me another piece of strawberry, and then I must hasten away to the shadow of the ferns. But while I eat, tell me, dear Violet, why are you all so sad? I have scarce seen a happy face since my return from Rose Land dear friend, what means it?' 'I will tell you,' replied little Violet, the tears gathering in her soft eyes. 'Our good Queen is ever striving to keep the dear flowers from the power of the cruel Frost-King many ways she tried, but all have failed. She has sent messengers to his court with costly gifts but all have returned sick for want of sunlight, weary and sad we have watched over them, heedless of sun or shower, but still his dark spirits do their work, and we are left to weep over our blighted blossoms. Thus have we striven, and in vain and this night our Queen holds council for the last time. Therefore are we sad, dear Primrose, for she has toiled and cared for us, and we can do nothing to help or advise her now.' 3