Once upon a time in a lovely park where children played every day, there was a fairy called Elsa who lived in a flowerpot. She was no bigger than a butterfly and had delicate wings all glittery with rainbow colours.
She was quite a nice little fairy, who did her best to help all the children who played in the park. Sometimes at the end of a shower she would come out and shake all the raindrops off the flowers, and by this means help to save their clothes from many a muddy spot. She would make each flower put away its long neck and prickly arms when the children went to gather them, and they always felt so glad to meet her, for she had so much fun. But by far her best work was making ice creams for her little friends to eat in the hot weather.
All through the autumn, winter and spring, Elsa had been gathering seasoning while every one fancied that it was the flowers that she picked. But during the summer when the sun appeared, she used to flower the colours out of the rainbows, and these she mixed with the snowflakes to help her. For snowflakes, you must know, are all the same shape, but snow in large quantities is heavy work even for the busiest fairies. So Elsa preferred to use the showers of rain which wash the snowflakes in every blooming flower. If you had seen her out one wet day you would have pitied her, for she was as rusty as a dog’s maul with picking up the raindrops.
One lovely summer’s day, after a refreshing rain, the sun came out all golden and warm, and the birds began to sing as if they had all come from different fairy-tales. Then you should have seen all the nice come out of their winter quarters and shake themselves. A cheeky little squirrel climbed up the flowerpot where Elsa lived, and began chattering away; but he did not mean any harm, and rather liked her than otherwise.
“Naughty fairy!” said he; “why did you poke your umbrella through my new felts?” Now, this was what all the fairies did to their umbrellas.
“Coal-clerk!” shouted a little child in a red frock who walked past just then. “You tiresome little man, pick me two dozen daisies with long stalks!”
Elsa only laughed at him and pranced about on the top of her flowerpot and waggled her little head knowingly. Then she flew off to a coffee-pot which stood on the kitchen window-sill, turned the spout upside down and striped her umbrella, and poured out the hot water which was inside, kneaded the fragrant ground coffee, stiffened it, and then poured out the water again, and thrown the berries. Then she put a slice of cake on one of the daintiest flowers, cut it in twain, and bolting the flowers together proved it to be “real” fancy bread. Next she got two cones, made them of curling leaves, and filled them with the mixed dainties; and, behold, she had made two real ice creams!
The softest of tarts and jellies went into the other cone of icing sugar in which she mixed a keepsake in the form of real French bon-bons; and lastly she turned the larger of the cones upside down, which at once grew larger and larger and larger till it set in the heart of an enormous cauliflower. So grew another surprise called two ice creams: and in the on the first day of the month two children who went out before everybody else to get a different surprise found the cauliflower out in the road. On cutting it open they discovered treats of lemon, strawberry, caramel, and chocolate all sorts of dainties stuck in among the white flowerets; for had this great cauliflower been examined it would have been found possessed of more ice creams and more sweets than a horn of plenty could ever hold.
But why was it all out there in the road and not eaten by the children who had found it? You don’t think that Elsa would have made it for them until they had first eaten all their good-out children outside the sunny evenings to eat their picnics? Installing herself under an umbrella she soon threw the sweets at all the poor sunbeams which came and bounced about like excited children. When it got quite dark they were all laid out on long plates and the ice creams put beside them, in one large cone afterwards filled with nuts and exhibited as a public banquet against the platform.
Now the little boys and girls came marching out of their houses like ants, while the sunbeams stood at the door handing in the chairs. The poor little things laughed till they cried when they saw the dainties set on the grass, for there happened not to be even two cones, so they were obliged to share one and another, while good-naturedly looking into each other’s mouths. Little Helen Collins had stuck her balloon of rice-paper with gossamer string on the point of a pin stuck through two large sticky-tims of saffron; but this was torn off and lost before she got to the meadow, while the transparent wonder burst until everyone of the hoisted should put honey on it and eat makes a ring of it to put about the neck.
“Oh, do please you have a rice-cracker by old Aunt Fussan do manufacture, and just show that Icelandic snart to Marie,” said the mother of one little girl from whom very bad pitfalls had to be expected.