Betty picked him a small bouquet. She knew that in the child’s hot grasp the flowers would soon droop and she loved them so dearly that she grieved to see them wither and die. St. Elmo, however, was not satisfied.
“Won’t you dive Elmo some wed ones, too?” he pleaded.
“The fairies might git cross,” countered Betty.
“Is theh faywies wound heah, Betty? Can they see us?” inquired the little boy in awe-struck tones.
“Lots o’ them, St. Elmo. I seen some the other evenin’ in the moonlight. Some was dressed in green an’ silver, some in white an’ silver. They danced in an’ out among the sunflowers.”
“Can’t I see the faywies some time, Betty?” asked St. Elmo.
“Only little girls see fairies ever,” was the reply.
“What else did they do ’sides dancing, Betty?” questioned St. Elmo.
Betty reflected a moment. “When they got tired dancing they ’journed to the pansy bed. The queen set down on a big purple pansy that was jist like a lovely throne. The other fairies came an’ bowed low in front o’ her, then they gathered up their long silver trains an’ walked backwards. Then the queen rose up an’ walked all round among the flowers an’ the other fairies follered her. They waved their wands over all the flower beds, an’ that’s why they’ve all growed so lovely.”
St. Elmo looked at the specimens in his hand. “These pansies is most deaded. I fink I’ll fwow them away,” he declared.