Once upon a time in early spring, I was flitting among the flowers that were peeping up their heads from the ground. At first I had a great deal to do, for all the roots I came across I tickled, to make them send up new shoots, and gave a little shake to every stem, to make it sturdy. But at last my work was nearly finished.
And then I came to a wee white flower that was drooping terribly. I could see that a team of ants were carrying away some crumbs of earth from about its roots, so I said:
“You bad vermin; look well to your business, for if you touch the roots of that flower I’ll soon punish you.”
But they took no notice.
“I’ll make you pay for this,” I cried; and I took my wand to punish them, when the pointed head of the flower was held down by that damp earth.
So I took my wand and touched it, and still the flower drooped. I touched it again, for I found those greedy ants were increasing the pile of earth so fast that I feared there would be no flower by and by unless I scattered it. And then I noticed that the ants were dancing round about the pile. So I shook the stick I had in my hand, and all the earth scattered from the roots of the flower.
The ants stopped dancing, but they did not go away; they only looked at the heap of earth with their little bright eyes. I was now in hopes that the flower would raise up its head. I waited and waited, for I thought Flora the flower fairy ought to be allowed time to kiss the buds and flowers of those roots and branches.
But Flora did not come, for it was growing late. So I went on to look for some larger flower. But though I hardly spent a few minutes in a wood full of flowers, I found it getting late.
The sun was fast sinking, and Flora did not come. I flew to the spot where the flower grew, but I could see nothing of Flora. I called to her, but still no answer.
I was quite frightened. I patted and caressed the drooping flower, but it only drooped more.
“I’ll bring you to life by and by,” said I, and I took the flower gently in my hand. “I’ll go for Flora, and then I’ll bring a great many fairies to look at you and to consult about you. So don’t die quite away while I’m gone.”
So I flew away with all the strength I had, and when I reached the hill where the fairies lived, I called Flora aloud: but no answer.
Then I cried, “All good fairies come to the help of Flora, the flower fairy, who is ill.”
And all the good fairies came.
“How ill the flowers smell. I never smelt them so strong before,” said one.
“They must have a great deal of bloom,” said another.
“I think it must have rained,” said another.
“No, no,” said Flora; “all the flowers in the fields will soon perish because of their evil-smelling bloom and because the shower did not fall; so you can have no more doubt about it than if you saw it with your eyes. If the trees stop leafing the poor flowers will die still sooner. So what do you advise me?”
All the fairies remained silent. I scratched my head and thought, and then whispered something to Flora.
“Nature loves and hates and feasts and fasts too, you know,” said Flora, smiling pleasantly.
“You can try,” said the poor fairy. And she went to another part of the garden and petaled every flower that grew on the trees.
Then Flora, knowing the place where all the fairies lived, danced backwards three times. But nothing came of it, except that Nature turned round and kissed all the flowers.
So Flora took only a handful of earth in her hands, and plumped it down on the flower on the hillside: and in a moment Nature came and kissed it, and what was still better, the owner then took away the particles of earth that the ants had brought.
The sun was shining and the flower blooming when I arrived, and I began to sing a hymn of joy.
The ants were dancing round Flora, for she had not had time to go to look after the flowers in the field so soon.
“And they have even brought her bed to her, that she may sleep sounder, for you know she could not sleep well last night,” said one of the fairies.
None of the others said much, but three of them went into the ants’ house, where they peeped and saw that they would soon all die.
“And we shall soon die,” said one of them; “for a cold dew fell on the roof all night, for this place was becoming too hot, and Flora’s tears did not allow it to close, or we should have risen much sooner.”
Now I had no spite against the weak little vermin, only because they had danced instead of running after the earth, which they dragged away when the flower was drooping; so I sighed deeply.
Flora looked at me and whispered, “Don’t grieve.”
Then all the ants dragged three little rubbish-carts into an empty castle, which had been blown down on one side.
One of the ants slipped behind the curtain and colored it all over, and it really looked like a very splendid wall-tapestry, for once upon a time I was at a big burlesque dinner at a king’s, and saw in all the rooms nothing but such tapestry hanging down or curtains up; so I thought I might just say these little pleasantries.
Flora sat at the table, and when I saw that those wicked ants intended eating all the food they could carry, which was among the rubbish they had dragged in to make their feast, I took away the whole of the tower, built and all; so no food was left for them. I’m sure they never found less was in the house than they they had brought from the hills.
So Flora rose up, and when she was just turning round to go she saw there was no food where she sat; so she went to see the laughing guests; but oh horror! Flora the flower fairy was to lie in one coffin with the frogs, which were to lie in another like a bed with curtains round, yet it was no Gentleman Frog’s bed and were unseated or killed, or jumped down to be killed.
Flora only remained two minutes, but Nature dressed her up so that she could only appear once more. And she was so pleased that she smiled at us all. The whole control she possessed she put there and then into a box and covered it over with a carpet, which the ants had fancied they had been tearing up to clap over their dinner with and make better tents!
The ants were all sitting inside transfixed with fright, so I twisted the box between each of the ants and sat it down opposite to them; but at last I said nothing did her royal highness want it, and they put two magpie bonnets on each of them, when the whole of the rubbish came on them, and one after another was crushed to atoms.
So, although they had made a splendid feast, they had not broken their fast.
There is no quarrel and nothing said. Flora the flower fairy shook Nature’s hand. And so it was that Flora never came herself next morning.
The day went over, the whole nosegay smelt so strong, and there was one flower that hung its head down dead; so at last at one moment to each of both, I’m tired and I can’t stand on my feet.
But numerous servants have come to meet those who are coming with the Prince whom I have never yet seen. For the wild thyme is good this good weather, and wild-oats them on the ceiling. There is a stream of shining gold down there a whole man.
If I lay and was all a covering and a covering over their course and a covering for the whole of that’s up there you can imagine, a whole chest full.
But Flora still continued cortse to kiss me on my roasted one fine side.
And I gave myself the trouble to fly, tho Flora kissed the other.