The Sun's Babies

by Edith Howes

"She went to the Afternoon Clouds and asked them to play with her"

"We are far too busy," said the Afternoon Clouds. "We have to shade two hills and a valley from the heat of the Sun, and make a crown for the mountains you see below you."

The Rain-Fairy could not find anyone who had time to play, so she had to spend the day by herself. It was dull and lonely, but she would not go down to the earth. "They surely must play some time. I will wait and see," she thought.

Sunset came, and the Clouds and Sunbeams all passed in turn before the great Sun to report to him on their day's work. The Rain-Fairy went with them, for she saw that each one passed on from the Sun to a great cloud-hall, where a star-dance was to be held that night. Soon she herself stood before the Sun.

"A Rain-Fairy in the sky!" said the Sun in surprise. "What have you done to-day, little Rain-Fairy?"

The Rain-Fairy hung her head. "I have done no work," she said. "I was tired of working on the earth, so I came up here to play."

The Sun's kindly smile changed to a frown, "Then you may not go to the star-dance," he said. "Go back to your work on the earth. We have no time for play here till our day's work is done."

The Fairy returned sadly to the earth, but she had learned her lesson; she took up her work again and did everything well. She closed the dainty flower-cups that the rain might not wash their colours out, and dried the soft petals again when the shower had passed. She hid the butterflies and moths in dry hiding places when it rained hard, and she covered the wee birds in their nests. Day after day she worked patiently, remembering how the Sunbeams and Clouds found no time for play.

One day the Sunbeams came to her with a message. "The great Sun has watched your work," they said, "and he is well pleased. He bids us say that as a reward you are invited to the star-dance to-night."

THE DISOBEDIENT SUNBEAMS

The story ended only to-day, but it began thousands and thousands of years ago. In those days the sun shone as he shines now, and the Sunbeam Children had their work to do before they were free to play, just as they have now. Some had to coax the flower-buds out of their cosy blankets; some had to stroke the round cheeks of the berries till they turned red; some had to slip through the clear water to nurse and comfort the fish babies. But in those days there were five little Sunbeam Brothers who liked play much better than work. Day after day they played at hide-and-seek between the leaves of a tall tree, instead of doing the tasks that were set for them. Time after time they were warned, but they would not reform; at last the Sun in his anger punished them with a terrible punishment.

"Enter into the trunk of the tree," he commanded. "Now," he said, when they had tremblingly obeyed him, "you shall remain there as long as the tree remains. When it falls you shall be free, but not till then."

This was a dreadful sentence to the Sunbeams. To be shut away from the light and the air and the other Sunbeams was bad enough, but to have to endure it all through the life of the tree was worse. They dared not rebel, however; they had to submit quietly to their imprisonment; the years went by and the tree lived on.

But a worse fate came. Just when the tree was growing old and their freedom seemed near, the whole forest sank, and the sea flowed over it. Tons and tons of sand and gravel were brought by the waves and flung upon the forest, choking it up till the tops of the great trees were covered. The five crouched in despair at the foot of their tree. They could not die, for death is impossible to Sunbeams; but how were they to be delivered now? Under this great weight of earth and water they might be imprisoned for thousands of years before anything happened to release them.

And that is just what happened. For thousands of years the forest lay under the sea, not decaying, but slowly changing from wood to coal. Then a change came. The land was pushed up again by heat from below; by and by it rose high above the sea. But now the trees were hidden by the earth above them, over which grass and plants soon grew. The Sunbeams were still imprisoned.

Then one day men opened the earth and dug out the coal, and the piece containing the Sunbeams was placed on the fire and burnt. At last freedom had come. Quivering with joy, the five Sunbeam Children sprang out and danced on top of their prison house.

"How bright those flames are, and how they jump!" said the children sitting round the fire.

The coal burned to red embers and fell to the bottom of the grate. Spark! spark! Up flew the five Sunbeam Children out through the tall chimney to live again their life of work and play.

"It was a dreadful punishment, but it has taught us a lesson," they said.

"I am glad to hear it," said the Sun.

WHITE-BRIER

She grew at the very end of the rose-garden, next the road—that is what vexed the other trees.

"You are only a common Brier," they said, "and yet you are placed in the most prominent position. Everybody who passes can see you, while we are half-hidden by your spreading branches."

"Look at us!" cried the Red Roses. "Are we not worthy to be seen? Our petals are like rich velvet, not pale and colourless like yours. In the morning light we glow like massed rubies, but you cannot glow at all."

"We are like bits of the sun brought down from the sky," said the Cloth-of-Gold Roses, "and yet you have the presumption to stand between us and the passers-by."

"If you were even a Sweet-Brier it would not be so bad," sighed the Tea-Roses; "but you have no scent, so what is the use of you?"

Then the biggest of the Pink Roses spoke. "You have only one row of petals," she said severely. "That stamps you at once as of low birth. We others are all of higher growth than that. Look at my petals, set so closely one above another that you cannot see between them! You are a nobody, and yet you are allowed to retain the best position. It is most unfair."

White-Brier had listened to it all in a sorrowful silence, but now she spoke: "I am sorry, indeed, to be in the way," she said. "I should be glad to be at the back of the garden, for I know you are all much more beautiful than I am. But I was placed here, and here I am bound to grow. I cannot help having only one row of petals and no scent. It is my nature."

The other roses only turned their backs on her at this, but the bees crowded into her flower-cups to comfort her. "Don't take any notice of their jealousy," they said. "If you have only one row of petals, still they are so white and delicate that they can compare with any in the garden; if you have but little scent, you have a sweeter heart than any rose here. We love you best of all, and will do our best to carry your pollen well, so that your seed-balls may be well filled."

The summer passed; one by one the roses faded and showered their petals on the earth. Autumn came, and the green leaves turned red and yellow and then brown; and they, too, dropped upon the earth. Winter came; the proud rose-trees stood bare and thorny, shivering in the winter storms.

But White-Brier was not bare. Her roses and leaves had indeed faded, but the little seed-cases below the flowers had grown into green balls that swelled and turned red, and now the whole bush was hung with scarlet berries. How they glowed as they swung in the wind! The passers-by stopped to look at the bush. "What a beautiful rose-tree!" one of them said to the master of the garden. "What a glorious bit of colour in this gloomy winter weather!"

"Yes," he said; "that is why I planted the tree in the front of the garden. In the summer there are many beautiful flowers everywhere, but in the winter there are so few, that it is good to have a tree like that where everyone can see it."

Then the proud roses were ashamed, and begged White-Brier's pardon. "You are more beautiful than we are now," they said.

But White-Brier did not grow conceited. "It is nothing," she said. "I must grow according to my nature—that is all. But my heart is singing for joy that I am beautiful at last."

A TRIP INTO THE COUNTRY

"Always do what I tell you, and you are sure to be right," said Mr. Bantam. "Chukitty-chuk; Biddy Bantam, don't make eyes at me. Chukitty-chukitty-chuk. I see a fine new perch across the yard. Let us all go and stand on it."

"I would rather stay here," said Biddy Bantam. "Besides, I don't think that new perch is safe."

"Nonsense! It's as strong as strong," said Mr. Bantam. "Come on. Bessy Bantam too." He strutted round the two little hens and hustled them across the yard.

"I don't like the look of it," said Biddy crossly. "It came in on these two big wheels this morning, and a horse was pulling it. How do we know it won't go out again?"

"You can easily jump off if it does, can't you?" cried Mr. Bantam. "Chukitty-chukitty-chuk! What a fuss you make! Follow me and you will be quite safe." He flew up and settled himself on the perch.

"It is certainly cool in the shade of that big box on top," said Bessy. She flew up beside Mr. Bantam.

"Oh, well, since you are both up, I suppose I may as well come," said Biddy, and she too flew up.

It was very hot and still in the yard. The bantams put their heads under their wings and went to sleep. They slept on, not knowing how time was passing, till dark.

Now the perch they were on was the axle of a farmer's cart, and the "big box," as Bessy called it, was the cart itself. After dark the farmer put his horse in again and drove away home, not knowing that there were three little bantams fast asleep on his axle. It was a drive of four miles, but the bantams never woke till the glare of a lantern made them open their eyes and blink.

The farmer was taking his things out of the back of the cart. When he saw the bantams he whistled with surprise. "Well, of all the funny things!" he cried. "These must be Nellie White's bantams. They have evidently perched on my axle and ridden home with me. I must take them back to-morrow, or Nellie will think they are lost."

He took them gently off the perch and put them in a box. "What did I tell you, Mr. Bantam?" said Biddy. "Here we are, shut up in a horrid dark box; nobody knows what will happen to us next. And all because we followed your advice."

"Never mind," said Bessy. "It is snug and warm in here, and we can sleep comfortably till morning, anyway." Mr. Bantam had nothing to say.

The next day the farmer took them back to Nellie White. She was delighted to see them again, and they were delighted to be back in their own yard.

"I really thought we were going to be killed and eaten," said Mr. Bantam.

"Never talk to me about new perches again," said Biddy. "The fright I have had!"

"Well, after all, no harm has come to us," said Bessy, "and we can all say we have had a trip into the country, even if we were asleep when we went."

GREY-KING

The Pigeons left their house and flew out for their morning exercise. Up and down, and round and round, they went in a flock. "Follow me," called the leader. "Fly fast and swoop!" The white of their under-wings flashed as they passed, and they made a soft, silken rustle as they skimmed lightly through the air. It was beautiful to watch them.

But Grey-King sat on top of the house, and would not exercise. He was the swiftest flyer amongst them, and had won so many races that he had grown conceited. "No," he said, "I am going to rest. I can easily beat you all without any practice."

"But the great race of the year is to come off in a fortnight," said the others. "Pigeons from all the country-side will be flying. Think what a disappointment it would be to everyone if a stranger won! We look to you to uphold the honour of our house."

Grey-King only laughed. "Haven't I won every race for years?" he asked. "The honour of our house is safe, for no stranger can beat me."

He turned himself round and round in the sunshine, fluffed out his grey feathers proudly, and sat down on the housetop again. Every day while the others exercised he sat there, watching their movements and giving them plenty of good advice, but feeling quite certain that he had no need to join them.

The day before the great race the pigeons were all put into their boxes and sent away by train to their starting-point. "Grey-King is sure to win, I suppose," said a friend to the master as he helped him place the pigeons in their boxes.

"I thought so till a fortnight ago," said the master; "but he has not been exercising lately. I cannot understand what is the matter with him, but I am afraid he has no chance of winning." He did not know that Grey-King's only ailment was conceit.

Grey-King was angry. "How absurd to say I have no chance!" he thought. "I'll show him how superior I am when I start. I feel quite upset."

He fussed and fumed for a long time in his box before he could settle down to the train journey; when they were set free the next day he started off for home with a great sweep of wings to show how well he could fly. He was soon ahead of all the rest.

But there was a head wind, and he had grown fatter and heavier with sitting about so much; his muscles were soft from want of exercise. Soon he began to tire and to fly more and more slowly. One by one the others passed him; and the race was won by a stranger. Grey-King came home last, tired out and utterly ashamed. "I will never again be too proud to exercise," he thought. "It serves me right."

THE SEASON FAIRIES

In the days of long ago four fairies stood before the Sun. "You shall be the Season Fairies," he said; for he was the King of the Year.

To the first he gave a robe of green and a silver wand. "Take these," he said, "and fly slowly up and down above the earth from pole to pole. As you pass, each land shall clothe itself in green to match the colour of your robe; as you wave your silver wand, all baby-things shall spring from their winter cradles and begin to grow. Take with you rousing winds and showers, to wake the babies from their sleep, and a million warm and golden sunbeams in which to fold the tender growing things when they have risen."

The Spring Fairy went forth in her robe of green, waving her silver wand. As she flew from land to land the earth clothed itself in green to match the colour of her robe, and all baby-things sprang from their winter cradles and began to grow.

To the next fairy he gave a rosy robe and a wand wreathed in flowers. "Take these," he said, "and follow Spring, for you are Summer. As you pass from land to land the earth shall blossom out, and a million million flowers shall shine above the green of Spring. The baby-things shall grow to their full size and beauty, and shall proudly wave their flowered heads. Take with you bright cloudless heat and long fine days and soft night dews."

The Summer Fairy followed her sister Spring. As she went a million million flowers blossomed out above the green, and the baby-things grew up to their full size and beauty.

To the third fairy he gave a robe of red and a wand of gold. "Follow Summer," he said, "for you are Autumn. As you pass from land to land the blossoms of the earth shall change to fruit; the grown-up babies shall make cradles for the babies of next year. Red and brown shall turn the leaves, red and purple shall hang the berries, and as you wave your wand the corn that covers half the land shall change to gold. Take with you still hot days and little creeping evening winds."

The Autumn Fairy went forth in her crimson robe. As she passed the blossoms changed to fruit, the grown-up things made cradles for the babies of next year.

To the last fairy he gave a robe of white and a sparkling wand of diamonds. "You are Winter," he said. "As you pass, you shall lull all growing things to their season's sleep and rest, that they may wake refreshed when Spring returns. Take with you rain and hail and ice and frost, and the white snow-covering for the sleeping earth."

The Winter Fairy followed her sister Autumn up and down the earth from pole to pole. As she went all growing things folded themselves away for their season's rest.

SPRING STORY

Elsie lay on a couch by an open window, trying to grow strong again. She had been hurt, and had to lie here for a year. As she had always been an outdoor girl she found it hard to stay so long indoors. But the sunbeams and the little winds came in to play with her, her favourite tree outside the window made funny leaf shapes to amuse her, and, best of all, the Season Fairies came to tell her the doings of the outdoor world.

This is what the Spring Fairy said: "Each day the sun shines more brightly, and everything is waking from its winter sleep. The spring wind knocks at the close-shut doors of the winter houses, and calls again and again till they are opened. Buds burst, leaves and flowers dance out, and everything is gay.

"In the garden plots crocuses and snowdrops and golden daffodils nod to one another across the ground, primroses and violets scent the air, and hyacinths ring their merry chimes. Pink-tipped daisies open their golden eyes here and there on the lawn; the grass-blades shoot up straight and green.

"I flew through the kitchen garden on my way here. The radishes have already sent up two thick leaves, and the young cabbages stand in stiff rows like soldiers, each trying to grow a heart. I peeped under the ground. There everything is sprouting. The peas and beans have burst open at the sides, and strong white shoots have come out. The potatoes are growing stems out of their eyes, and are sending down white roots to search for water. Under the ground, too, the young grubs are waking up and moving fast, ready to devour all that they can find.

"Down in the fruit garden, the trees are a glorious mass of white and pink; for cherry-trees and plum-trees, apple-trees and pear-trees, are all decked out in their sweet spring dresses. The air is filled with their fragrance, and snowy petals soon begin to float on every little wind.

"The bees are busy there, gathering honey and pollen to take home to the newly-hatched bee-grubs. The gooseberry and currant bushes have opened their queer little flowers to the bees, and, low on the ground, the strawberry spreads its white petals, inviting them to its honey feast.

"In the pool below the fruit garden queer swimming creatures rush eagerly about in search of food, for the warmth of the spring has reached them. One day they are to grow into gnats or mosquitoes or dragon-flies, but they are not thinking about that just now, all their thoughts are on their meals.

"From grass-blades and leaves everywhere the tiny eggs are hatching that were laid by moths and butterflies; caterpillars creep out from them to wander off in search of food.

"In the wheat-field millions of green blades are shooting up; on the roadside grasses and thistles, dandelions and ragwort, and a hundred little weeds, are pushing and jostling each other for their summer places. The hedges are shining with the gold of gorse and broom; in the trees dainty nests are being made for eggs as dainty.

"A tender bleating rises all day from the meadow at the foot of the hill, for there the mother sheep watch over their snowy lambs. The lambs frisk and gambol on the soft grass, and the mothers call to them with the mother-note that has come with the spring."

SPRING TIME

Spring time is a merry time,
A merry time is Spring!
The little birds come out for straws;
They build, and hop, and sing.

The daffodils and crocuses
Spread out their golden heads;
Sweet cowslips hang their scented bells
Above the garden beds.

The cherry-trees are white with flowers,
The apple-trees are pink.
The green leaves wrapped in woolly buds
Peep out at you and wink.

The winds rock lightly in the trees:
The sunbeams dance and play.
Come out! Come out! The sky is blue,
The world is fresh and gay.

SUMMER STORY

With the summer came the Summer Fairy. She said: "The sun is high in the sky; at noon-day the air shimmers with the heat. The flower garden is gay with roses and poppies and Canterbury bells, the lawns and clipped hedges are like green velvet.

"Down in the vegetable garden the peas and beans are filling their pods, and the cabbage soldiers have all grown hearts. The mother potatoes are feeding their little ones with their own white bodies; the turnips and carrots are swelling as fast as they can. Under the ground some of the caterpillars have coiled themselves up and gone to sleep; others have finished their sleep and have flown out on many-hued wings as butterflies or moths.

"In the fruit garden the trees are green. The flowers have long ago dropped their petals and shut their doors while they made their seeds. The strawberries and cherries are nearly over, the gooseberries and currants and raspberries are ripe, but the apples and pears and plums are green and hard on the trees. The bees have left the orchard and betaken themselves to the flower garden, but the birds are feasting royally in the gooseberry and currant bushes.

"I peeped into the pool below the fruit garden. The young gnats and dragon-flies have crept up the bushes for their great change, and from there have flown away, when this was over, to earn their living like the rest of the world.

"In the wheatfield the green corn stands high, and waves its tasselled flowers in the summer breezes. The grasses and weeds on the roadside are all in flower. In the meadows the lambs have grown big, and the sheep are gladly being shorn of their hot woolly coats. The young birds are leaving their nests in the trees and learning to fly, the fathers and mothers teach them with infinite love and care.

"There was a great commotion in the bee-hive this morning, for a young queen had wakened from her chrysalis sleep, and the old queen in her jealousy would have stung her to death. There was much running about and loud buzzing. Everybody was too excited to think of going out to look for honey; but at last they came to an agreement, and some of the bees went with the old queen to look for a new home while the rest stayed in the hive with the new queen. The old queen flew to an apple-tree in the orchard; her people surrounded her in a dense mass to protect her till a hive was brought and they were safely housed. To-morrow they will be as busy as can be, making their new honeycomb. Already they have started."

SUMMER TIME

Roses red, roses white,
Up the hedges climb.
Gardens are a lovely sight!
This is summer time.

Clover red, clover white,
Bloom among the grass.
All the world is filled with light;
Skies are clear as glass.

Cherries red, cherries white,
Show with each new breeze.
Linnets sing in sweet delight
High on rocking trees.

AUTUMN STORY

The Autumn Fairy said: "The sun is a little lower in the heavens now, but at morning and evening the land flames with the gold and red of his royal robes. Gold and red! These are the autumn colours, the colours of the fruitage that fulfils the promise of the spring.

"Asters and dahlias and tiger-lilies are blooming in the flower plots, and seeds ripen in the places of the flowers that were there in summer. Pop, pop! What a constant noise the pods keep up as they burst and scatter their seeds. It is so loud that it almost drowns the buzzing of the bees. Out jump the seeds as far as they can, to find a new home for themselves.

"I watched a beetle as he walked under a larkspur. A pod burst above him and scattered its seeds on his head. 'How those great nuts hurt,' he cried. 'It is not safe to remain under this tree,' and he hurried off to a safer place. To him the larkspur seemed a giant tree, and its seeds huge nuts.

"In the fruit garden there is rich harvest, for plums and pears, apples and peaches and apricots gleam with red and gold amidst their tinted leaves. The chestnuts are ripe in their prickly nests, and the walnuts fall with a thud and split open to show their fine shells.

"In the wheatfield the golden corn falls before the sharp knives of the reaper, and the sheaves are set in stooks ready for the carrying. There is dismay amongst the larks and field-mice, for their shelter is taken from them; but the heart of the farmer is glad at the richness of the crop.

"On the roadside the grasses bow their heavily seeded heads, begging the wind to carry their children to a good growing place; the thistle seeds rise up on their own shining wings, and float away to find a place for themselves.

"The nests in the trees are deserted, for the little birds have grown up and now perch on the branches with the older ones. From some of the trees the tired leaves are dropping one by one. They have done their work well, so the tree-mother gently loosens them from the branches and gives them leave to rest."

AUTUMN TIME

Autumn time is apple time!
Time for pears and plums.
Corn is golden in the fields.
How the reaper hums!

Lilies shine in garden plots,
Berries in the bush.
Brown pods burst along the hedge,
Where the ripe seeds push.

Come with me to Orchard-land;
Grass will do for chairs.
Leaves fall off and tumble fast—
So do juicy pears!

WINTER STORY

The Winter Fairy said: "The sun is so busy on the other side of the world that he has not time to climb high in our sky. The Storm King, the Snow Queen, and Jack Frost have their way now, turn and turn about, with no powerful sun to check them. To-day it is Jack Frost's turn. He has drawn fairy pictures on your windows, frozen the little pool below the fruit garden, and flung glittering lace-work over all the land.

"In the garden plots all the flowers have fled except the hardy winter roses; the fallen seeds have hidden themselves as far down under the warm earth as they could creep.

"Everything is resting. The fruit-trees stand bare and brown and still, and you might think their life was gone. But on every branch sit the little buds which the tree-mother made in the long days of the busy summer. They are snugly wrapped in thick woolly blankets till the sun returns and the air is warm again. Then they will fling aside their coverings and dance out in the wind.

"Everything is waiting for the spring. The flies have hidden themselves away under the grass and in the hedges, and have gone to sleep till the cold dark days are done. Butterflies and moths have laid their last eggs and have hidden themselves away, to die, most of them. Bees keep close within their hives; the hum of insect life is stilled.

"The snails have buried themselves in the ground, sinking into their shells and fastening their little doors so tightly that no enemy can come in. Round the pond, too, the frogs have buried themselves in the soft mud to sleep till winter is over, leaving only openings enough for air.

"The wheatfield is being ploughed, that Jack Frost may break the earth for next year's crop. On the roadside the empty grass-heads stand, white and beautiful with fine frost-work, but dead beneath their beauty.

"Of the birds who sang their joyous way through the other seasons only the braver ones are left. The rest have flown to find a warmer land till spring returns. So ends the tale."

WINTER TIME

Snow, snow! How the winds blow.
Across the sky the white flakes go.
Their steps are fast—their steps are slow—
They mean some mischief, that I know.

Cold, cold! Jack Frost is bold.
He nips the toes of young and old.
But better laugh than cry and scold.
Come for a slide with me. Take hold!

Run, run! The slide is done.
We'll warm ourselves without the sun.
Now snow is here and frost's begun,
The Winter will be splendid fun.

PRINTED BY CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C.