“The flowers are very talkative to-day,” remarked one little lettuce to another.
“The flattery of the bees has quite turned their heads,” agreed a radish who was notably sharp, whereupon some of the more sensitive flowers who had overheard blushed deeply.
But Philippe heard none of this chatter of the vegetables, for it seemed that the whole world, the ox and the ass, the horse and the cow, the tame beasts of the fields and the wild beasts of the spaces beyond, the fox and the rabbit, the mouse and the beetle, the creatures that crawled and the creatures that ran, the cricket and the grasshopper and the inhabitants of air and ocean, the little hills and high hills, the valleys and forests, the voice of water through the land, sky and earth—all, all were joining in a great, droning chant: “We serve—we serve—we serve——”
“What utter nonsense!” shouted a little bird saucily, flying from the low branches of a tulip tree. “I serve no one; I just have lots of fun, and I’m going to have an exciting fly—and that’s something little boys can’t do, for they haven’t even any pin feathers!”
The cocky way the little bird flapped her wings and tossed her head made Philippe double up with laughter.
“See!” said the little rebel’s mate, flying close. “You have made the King laugh, so your empty boasting has broken like a bubble, for laughter is one of the greatest services in the world! And as for going on your wild flight, have you forgotten our pretty blue eggs in their soft brown nest?”
“I am a King!” said Philippe in a daze of wonderment. “My darling Avril, tell me what I can do to show my gratitude to all my servants.”
“They love nothing better than that you use them, Philippe. Use them wisely and well, and not only for yourself—but for others.” And gentle Spring kissed him upon the lips, filling his heart with love and happiness.
“It is high time,” said Philippe’s mother to Philippe’s father, “that our little one was back. Soon it will be dark.”
She went to the doorway and gazed across the fields.