MABEL'S DREAM.
"Listen, then: A little girl went out one day in search of strawberries. She went into a wide green field that was starred all over with dandelions, and clusters of wild lilies hanging like bells around their stems, and violets, and blue-eyed grass.
"There was not a living being in this place except the birds, and little fishes in the brook; for through the long grass all around the field ran a stream of clearest water over a dark-brown, pebbly bed.
"Rising on every side, so as to shut the field in by itself, were hills closely covered with trees and vines. Here birds sang all day long, and flowers bloomed, and nuts and berries ripened; the ground was in some places slippery with fallen pine leaves, and in others soft with a carpet of fresh moss.
"It was shady in these woods, but in the field the sun shone, opened the lilies, ripened the strawberries, and made the little girl feel bright and glad, although it was so warm.
"Strawberries are tiny things to pick; the little girl thought it would take a million to fill her pail; and often she longed to leave them and gather flowers, or play with the fish in the brook, or rest in the cool wood.
"But she had always loved violets, just as I love them; and a gardener's wife had promised Mabel that the first time she brought a pail full of strawberries to her, she should have in return a whole bunch of these fragrant flowers.
"So, stooping among the lilies, which were almost as tall as herself, and picking one by one, one by one, the bright sun pouring its heat down upon her, after a great while her pail was heaped with berries. Almost as fragrant as violets they were, too, and looked, upon their long green stems, like little drops of coral.
"Mabel's work was not over now; she climbed half way up the hill, found a beautiful shady place, where the grass was long, and the roots of a great tree had coiled themselves into a seat, which was cushioned over with moss.
"She threw aside her sun bonnet, and began to pick off the green hulls from her fruit, while the broad oak leaves overhead kept fanning her, and lifting the matted curls from her warm forehead.
"But then came a great mosquito, and then another, and another; they would whirl around her head, buzzing and buzzing, and fly from her forehead to her nose, and from nose to hand, and hand to shoulder, and then creep into the curly hair, and buzz so close to her ear it frightened her.
"Twenty times she had a mind to throw her berries into the brook and run home; but then she thought of the violets—how splendid it would be to have them all to herself; she should not give away one flower, not one, she had worked so hard for them.
"Throwing the stems away lowered the contents of her pail so much that Mabel had to go out in the hot field and pick again, and then back to the wood where the mosquitoes were, and work another hour. She never had such a long, hard task before.
"But the little girl travelled home at last with her pail brimful in one hand, and a splendid great bunch of lilies in the other. This last served as a parasol till she reached the gardener's gate.
"Then, taking her violets, Mabel hurried home. There were more of them, and they were larger and sweeter, than she had even hoped. She hardly took her eyes from them until she reached her mother's door.
"While she was placing her flowers in water, a woman came up the hot, dusty road, with a young child in her arms. She looked tired and warm, and said she had eaten nothing all day long. Mabel looked in the closet; there was plenty of bread, but she dared not give it without her mother's leave. She looked in all the rooms; but her mother was not to be found; and when the poor woman had rested a little, Mabel watched her creep out into the blazing sun again, dragging the little child after her. She could not bear to think that while she had every thing to make her happy, others must go hungry and tired; and 'Suppose it were my mother,' Mabel thought; 'I must do something for her; yet I have nothing in the world to give.'
"'Except the violets,' whispered something inside of Mabel's heart. Snatching them from the table, she ran after the beggar, and said,—
"'There, I gave a whole pail of strawberries for these; perhaps you can sell them for a loaf of bread.'"
The poor woman looked so pleased, and thanked Mabel so heartily, that she felt the violets could never have caused her so much joy as it had done to give them away.
CHAPTER II.
"Not many days after these events, Mabel went again to the field where the lilies and strawberries grew, played about in the sun until she was tired, and then seated herself under a shady tree to rest, and hear the birds and rustling leaves, and watch the brook glide through the grass.
"The grass about her was long, and fine, and soft as any bed; it was cool too, and Mabel, listening to the quiet murmur of the brook, fell fast asleep; but all the while she thought herself wide awake, and wondered why the sound of the rippling of water changed to something like the tread of tiny feet; and then there came the sweetest, most delicate music; and all at once—could it be?—she saw a multitude of little beings marching through the very pathway her footsteps had made in the grass, and approaching her. They were hardly taller than a grasshopper would be if he could stand up like a man, and had formed themselves into the drollest little procession.
"First came the musicians; there were flute players, using each a joint of grass stem for instrument, bell ringers, jingling lilies of the valley, and trumpeters tooting through white lilac blossoms. Then came the guards, dressed in uniform, and bearing each a fern leaf for banner at once and parasol. With these leaves they shaded a group of little women, who marched along as dignified as nuns until they came to a bunch of fennel leaves that grew near Mabel's resting-place. Towards this they flew, for the tiny people had wings; they climbed the stems and clung to the feathery leaves, and then all at once, espying Mabel, trooped towards her, and ranged themselves upon a platform of plantain leaves.
"They were funny little women—tall, and prim, and slim, wearing green mantles and such big purple hoods. They were more polite than some larger people, and did nothing but bow, and courtesy, and smile to Mabel, who asked them who they were and whence they came.
"They shook their heads, and laughed, while the air was filled with sweetest odor. At last one said,—
"'We are flower spirits. Every year we come to earth and live in some blossom, which we fill with beauty and fragrance; but when it withers we go back to Fairyland until another spring. We have, besides our fairy queen, a queen whom we choose every year among mortals, and serve her faithfully. We have just returned from working in her service.'
"'Are you not hungry?' asked Mabel. 'I have brought luncheon. Won't you eat some of my gingerbread?'
"The fairies laughed again. 'We live,' they said, 'upon flower dust and dewdrops; we should not relish mortal food.'
"Then they called from the attendants who lingered among the fennel leaves their steward and butler; and it was Mabel's turn to laugh when she saw how queerly they ate.
"Some blossoms from the elder bush, little ivory urns, served them for goblets. These were set upon a mushroom, and some red clover blossoms were rolled around the table for seats. The little men had tried in vain to break these blossoms off; so they caught a caterpillar, whipped him along with grass blades, and made him use his teeth for a knife. Then they had caught a toad, and heaped his round back with the blossoms, which rolled off as fast as they could be picked up again; and by the time they reached their mistresses, the fairy servants were warm and red in the face as any hay makers.
"The fairies grew so hungry with waiting that they even tasted a crumb of Mabel's gingerbread; but not liking this very well, they took out from among the provisions that were packed in a wild rose, the petals nicely fastened together with cobweb threads, some poppy and caraway seeds, upon which they began to gnaw with their little white teeth.
"'You must have lived in violets,' said Mabel. 'Every time you shake your bonnets and laugh, the air is full of their odor. Can't you smell it?'
"'Yes, for we were violets once ourselves, and all blossomed in the same garden; some of us grew from the same root, and a queer life we have led in the last few days. One hot day this very week the gardener's wife picked us in the greatest haste, and tied us together so tightly we were all but smothered for a while. The woman gave us to a little girl, who was just putting our stems in some cool water, and we half dead with thirst, when she must needs give us away to a beggar woman.'
"'Why,' exclaimed Mabel, 'were you my violets?'
"The fairies only laughed.
"'The woman held us in her hot hands until we were all but wilted, and she gave one or two of my sisters to the poor tired child that followed her through the dust.'
"'What is the matter?' asked Mabel; 'your eyes are full of tears.'
"'I am thinking of my sisters, whom we shall never meet again;' and the tears ran down the fairy's little cheeks. 'The child was overtired, and so warm that when they came to a resting-place, and she lay down to sleep, she never awoke again. A lady who had taken pity upon her laid the little body out for burial, and finding those few violets still clinched in the dead hand, would not remove them; so my sisters were buried in her grave, and must remain there no one knows how long; for while we live on earth we must take care of these bodies, frail flowers though they be. If we omit this, all our happiness and usefulness are gone. The kind lady who buried the beggar child bought us from the woman, all wilted as we were. In her shady parlor we soon grew refreshed, lifted our heads again, and in gratitude breathed forth odors, till the room was all perfumed. A lovely girl came to visit the lady, and said so much about our sweetness, that, to our joy, we were divided with her. She took us to her home, a splendid place, all light, and gilding, and flowers, curtains, and cushions, and velvet carpets, and marble stands. Upon one of these last we were placed, in a white Parian cup, but hardly had time to regain our breath when one of the maiden's lovers came, selected me from among the rest, and twirled me around his finger as he talked, until my stem was broken, and I all but dead. In a lucky hour he let me fall, and, lame as I was, I caught by the leg of a great fly, who whizzed me out of the window in a second, buzzing so all the while that he almost stunned me. I have just found my friends here, and have not had time to ask about their adventures.'
"The little woman, tired with talking so long, sank into her seat on the plantain leaf, and taking a caraway seed from her pocket, began nibbling, while her companions finished the story.
"'We have had less trouble,' they said. 'The benevolent lady took us to a dismal prison, to be sure, and we were shut up for a while with a man who had murdered another, and was waiting to be hung. He had forgotten his own mother and his early home; but when he looked at us, the past came back to him. He remembered the little garden by his father's house, and felt for a moment like an innocent boy again. From that hour he grew penitent, and he may be forgiven in consequence by God.'
"'But didn't the jailer forgive him?' asked Mabel.
"'No; he was hung. We belonged to no one then, so we caught our withering bodies under our arms, and flew away through the iron gratings of his cell. But, Mabel, what are you thinking about?' ended the fairy.
"'Thinking,' said Mabel, 'how much better it was to give away my violets than to keep them. I little dreamed they would do so much good in the world. But, fairy, what is the name of the earthly queen you told me about?'
"'Mabel,' answered all the little voices; and the fern leaf banners waved, and violet odors filled the air again, while the tiny flutes and trumpets made sweet music at the mention of their queen.
"'Why, that is my name,' said the little girl.
"'And you are our queen,' said the fairies. 'It is a kind and loving heart that gives one power like a fairy wand, and can win all good spirits to serve its owner. This will change selfishness into benevolence, and sin to penitence, and hatred to forgiveness; it will transform—haven't you done it?—a prison into a dewy garden, and put love and penitence into a murderer's heart. Whoever uses us to best purposes is our queen; and this summer our queen is Mabel.'
"Mabel reached forward to take her little subjects from the leaf; but lo, it was only a handful of violets. In her surprise, she awoke, with a dim feeling still that she had watched the little procession wind away through her foot tracks in the grass, the fern leaf banners waving over it, while mingled with violet odors came back triumphant music from the tiny flutes and timbrels. Low but clear were the fairy voices; and Mabel never forgot the words they sang, which ended,—
'All of us, whoe'er we be,
May carve us out such royalty.'"
JUVENILE WORKS
CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS AT CHESTNUT HILL.
BY COUSIN MARY.
Containing fine engravings from original Designs, and printed very neatly.
It will be found to be a charming little book for a present for all seasons.
LITTLE BLOSSOM'S REWARD;
A CHRISTMAS BOOK FOR CHILDREN
BY MRS. EMILY HARE.
Beautifully Illustrated from original Designs, and a charming Presentation Book for Young People.