From flower to flower they wandered.
From bed to bed, from border to border they wandered, looking at the flowers, breathing the sweet perfume, and watching the clumsy but clever bees, out marketing for honey which they would pay for with golden pollen dust carried on their velvet backs. There were soft-petaled pansies as dark as midnight, as purple as a queen’s dress, as yellow as the sun, and sometimes of many colors curiously combined to form impish and laughing faces. There were lilies of the valley and violets, stonecrop and candytuft, peonies and roses, larkspur and bridal wreath—so many flowers that Philippe could not remember their names, but gave himself up to the enjoyment of their soft and gorgeous colors, their delicate and magnificent shapes. Farther along the maze of paths where he was led by Avril, the flowers were still furled in tight buds, and at length they came to beds where the dark loam was scarcely more than broken by lifting sprouts. “These are for later,” explained his fairylike guide.
“And these?” asked Philippe, when they had entered into a new part of the garden where straight rows of green-growing things were marked off in beds of checkerboard design.
“These funny little fellows,” Avril told him, “are not as beautiful and proud as the flowers; they hold their heads less high, but they are all extremely worthy and one would find it difficult to get along without them.”
“They look good enough to eat,” said Philippe, who was beginning to feel very empty.
“They are,” said Avril.
“And is all this garden mine?” asked Philippe.
“Yes,” answered the little girl, curtsying again before him, and added: “All yours—King Philippe!”
“Oh, you mustn’t call me ‘King,’ that is, when we’re not playing games, you know,” Philippe warned her, rather shocked. “Kings are grand people with treasures hidden away in strong chests, and they wear crowns of gold and have thousands of servants. I know, because I have read all about them in a book which my mother gave to me. I am a farmer’s son, and can never be so wonderful a person as a King.”
His companion looked at him very thoughtfully, and at last spoke: