| The Maybells and the Flowers. |
| "Young Maybells ring throughout the vale |
| And sound so sweet and clear, |
| The dance begins, ye flowers all, |
| Come with a merry cheer! |
| The flowers red and white and blue |
| Merrily flock around, |
| Forget-me-nots of heavenly hue, |
| And violets, too, abound. |
| Young Maybells play a sprightly tune, |
| And all begin to dance, |
| While o'er them smiles the gentle moon, |
| With her soft silvery glance. |
| This Master Frost offended sore; |
| He in the vale appeared: |
| Young Maybells ring the dance no more— |
| Gone are the flowers seared! |
| But Frost has scarcely taken flight, |
| When well-known sounds we hear: |
| The Maybells with renewed delight, |
| Are ringing doubly clear! |
| Now I no more can stay at home, |
| The Maybells call me so: |
| The flowers to the dance all roam, |
| Then why should I not go?" |
"Really," said David; "it's quite infectious"; and jumping up he began to pirouette, exclaiming, "Then why should I not go!"
"David, this is unseemly," exclaimed Schumann, with mock severity. "There's another pretty fairy-like piece of yours, Mendelssohn, the Capriccio in E minor."
"Yes," said Bennett, beginning to touch its opening fanfare of tiny trumpet-notes; "someone told me a pretty story of this piece, to the effect that a young lady gave you some flowers, and you undertook, gallantly, to write the music the Fairies played on the little trumpet-like blooms."
"Yes," said Mendelssohn, with a smile, "it was in Wales, and I wrote the piece for Miss Taylor."
"By-the-by," said Schumann, "David's antics remind me that Mendelssohn can make Witches and other queer creatures, dance, as well as Fairies."
"Villain," exclaimed David, and he began to recite dramatically the invocation from the "First Walpurgis Night," while Mendelssohn played the flashing accompaniment.
| "Come with flappers, |
| Fire and clappers; |
| Hop with hopsticks, |
| Brooms and mopsticks; |
| Through the night-gloom lead and follow |
| In and out each rocky hollow. |
| Owls and ravens |
| Howl with us and scare the cravens." |
"Ah," said Mendelssohn, "I don't think the old poet would really have cared for my setting, though he admired my playing, and was always most friendly to me."