The Wind lifted one of his legs high and pushed it with all his weight against the magnificent white house. The windows clattered, many things in the house were broken, a woman’s voice shrieked. The Wind laughed, then drew his leg back and said to the Rose-bush: “You also can do something, you flowers. Do not bloom for the rich idlers, and the fruit trees should not bear fruit. But you are pleasure-loving and lazy creatures. Look at the Tulips that stand up so sturdily all day, always saying nothing but ‘How lovely we are!’ They have no other interests.”
The petals of the Rose-bush became a deeper red, so ashamed was she of her sister-flower.
The Wind noticed this and tried to comfort her. “You appear to be a sensible, kind-hearted bush. I shall visit you more often. Give me one of your petals as a parting gift.” He took a deep red petal from a full blown rose. “Be happy—now I must leave.”
At that moment two poorly-dressed pale children came along the street. They stopped before the gate and cried as though with one voice, “Oh, the beautiful roses!” The little girl stretched her hands longingly toward the blossoms.
“Wind, beloved Wind,” called the Rose-bush, as loud as she could. “Before you fly away, break off two of my loveliest roses and throw them to the children. But be careful that the petals do not drop off.”
“Do you think I am so clumsy?” grumbled the insulted Wind, breaking off two handsome roses, and blew them lightly, gently to the children.
The children shouted joyfully, the Wind flew away, and the Rose-bush enjoyed the happiness of the children. Her enjoyment did not last long. An angry voice scolded the children. “What impudence is this, to steal the flowers out of my garden!”
The Rose-bush saw a silk-clad lady with fingers that were covered [[8]]with rings threatening the children. Her smooth face was red with anger. The children were frightened and ran off crying.
The Rose-bush breathed deep with indignation and her breath blew sweeter perfume towards the lady’s face. She stepped closer. “Ah, the beautiful roses. I had better pick them, otherwise the rabble from the streets will steal them. And they are such an expensive kind.”
At this the Rose-bush became enraged, so that her blossoms blazed a fiery red. “If I were only strong as the wind,” thought she, “I would get hold of this evil woman and shake her so that she would become deaf and blind. Such a common creature has a whole garden full of the most gorgeous flowers and begrudges the children for two paltry roses. But you shall not have even one of my blossoms, you bad woman, just wait.”