Richard took what his father told him literally, and going down into the garden, approached a plum-tree which gallantly waved to and fro in the wind, and taking off his hat with great respect, asked it:
"Mr. Plum-tree, will you be good enough to tell me if the rose is the queen of the flowers?"
But the plum-tree continued to move to and fro in the wind without answering him.
And drawing near to an almond tree, whose white blossoms had just opened, he repeated his question.
"Mr. Almond-tree, is it true that the rose is the queen of the flowers?"
The almond-tree remained silent, but its blossoms went red with envy.
"The almond-tree is also unprincipled," thought Richard. "All these trees have a discourteous tone. Let us ask the plants."
A splendid double pink, which raised its splendid corolla with a gallantry worthy of its nobility, as soon as he heard the question, graciously bowed upon his stalk and answered:
"Quite so, the rose is our beloved queen, on account of being so beautiful and because her delicate aroma has no rival. But if you wish to know more, come back to-night at twelve o'clock and notice what happens in your garden."
"Thank you, kind pink. I will not miss to-night."