Beautiful was the May morning that Lilla, with joyful steps and innocent delight, strolled over the pastures and through the woods. She ran about over the moss-covered rocks, and plucked the gay columbines that bent at their sides for shelter. She walked by the sparkling brook, and threw herself down amongst the violets that decked its borders, and her ear was delighted with the joyous gurgling of its waters, and with the cheerful melody of the spring birds, and the drowsy hum of the newly-awakened insects. She returned home with her basket full of flowers, and her heart and mind full of those beautiful feelings and thoughts which good angels delight to infuse into the minds of little children; and laying herself on her couch, she fell into a sweet sleep, and she dreamed that she was walking in a garden of fruit trees, and that it was the joyous springtime of the year; and though there were various kinds of trees in the garden, such as the apple, the pear, the peach, and the plum, also many kinds which Lilla’s waking eye had never seen, yet they were all in full bloom. The peach trees bore pink blossoms; the plum, cherry, and pear trees, white; and so full of blossoms were the trees, that she could scarcely see any green leaves. The ground beneath the trees was covered with flowers of almost every hue; and the blossoms looked so glad, that Lilla wondered they did not sing out for joy, as the birds and insects did.
That moment, a honey-bee that was buzzing near a rose-bush, whispered in her ear, and said, “They do sing; they are at this moment singing a joyous song in concert, but your senses are too gross to perceive it; I can hear it, and I can understand all their words.”
“Oh!” cried Lilla, “I wish I were a honey-bee, that I too might hear it!” and she stood still, and listened very intently, scarcely daring to breathe. Soon she thought her hearing had grown more clear, and she could distinctly perceive a sound like the far-off tinkling of little bells, and her heart leaped for joy. Breathless, she continued to listen, till at length she could even distinguish the words, and their song was that of gladness and gratitude for their existence. Lilla listened a long time in delight, and then she went and sat down on a little green mound to rest. While she sat there, a frog came hopping up the bank; Lilla was about to frighten him away, but he looked up into her face with an expression of so much kindness, that she thought it seemed to say, “come near, little maid, let us be friends;” and he smiled roughly with his great mouth; and she said, “Speckled-sides, why do you not sing like the birds? you have a mouth big enough; and even the blossoms on the trees are singing this bright spring morning, and yet you are silent; what right have you to take up your abode in this place, so full of melody, if you cannot sing?”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Speckled-sides, tossing up his head, and looking mighty proud, “do but follow me to the nearest brook, where my companions are holding a concert, and you will soon see;” and he turned from her, and hopped down the bank as fast as he could go.
Lilla followed him into a deep meadow, through which ran the pretty streamlet. The ground all round the brook was blue with violets, and they sang the same song as did the blossoms in the garden. This meadow was a sunny place; there were trees to shelter it from the wind on every side, but so far off, that their shadows did not reach the spot where Lilla stood, and the warm sun-beams felt pleasantly as they fell upon her neck. Speckled-sides leaped into the brook, and, sitting up as straight as he could, so that his head might be seen out of the water, joined his loud voice with those of the other frogs. Lilla perceived that the song of the frogs did not glide from their mouths in graceful undulations, like those of the birds, but that it was monotonous and discordant, yet did it delight her soul. It seemed like the warmth of the sun-beams; it gave her the idea of newly awakened life, and warmth, and joy.
“It is the song,” said she, “which always brings to mind the thoughts of spring, that season of returning life and gladness; I love to listen to it, for there is music even in its monotony;” and she laid herself down upon the bed of blue violets by the side of the brook, as she had done in the morning; and as she lay there, she saw nothing but the blue sky; she heard the voices of birds around and above her, but she saw them not; and it seemed as if the sky came down nearer and nearer to her, or that she was lifted up towards it, and the voices of the birds seemed like the voices of invisible spirits, singing around her. She saw nothing but beauty; she heard nothing but song; she felt nothing but the pleasant warmth of the sun-beams; and her little heart was full of joy and love. She turned her face toward the brook which flowed through the meadow in various windings, leaping over bright pebbles, which sparkled in the sunlight like gems.
“Little brook,” said she, “whither art thou going? Perhaps thou canst not tell thyself, beautiful brook!”
“I am free! I am free!” cried the brook; “and I know not, neither do I care, whither I go. I have been chained up all winter, with a cold, cold chain; and now that I am free, I will run without stopping, till Jack Frost binds me again.”
“Then,” said Lilla, “I will follow and see;” and she ran along by the side of the brook, which led her through many flowery meadows, and at length into a deep dell. When Lilla had followed it down the steep, and stood at the bottom of the dell, her little soul was full of wonder; and clasping her hands in a transport of delight, she exclaimed, “this must be heaven or some fairy land.” The ground and all the rocks were covered with moss of the most brilliant green, and it felt as soft to her little feet as a velvet cushion; and the sun, which was shining over her head through the foliage, was luminous—yet it was not like daylight, nor was it like moonlight; it shone with a green brilliancy, so that everything in the dell gleamed like liquid emeralds. There were many beautiful flowers growing up out of the green moss, and beautiful birds singing among the trees; the squirrels and the green lizards ran along the branches. Down at the very bottom of the dell, there was a large flat rock covered with red cup moss; some of these fairy goblets were standing half full of dew, and others were thrown over on their sides, and some of them were broken; there were also berries and broken nuts scattered about the rock. Presently a squirrel jumped up and began to gather them; then Lilla approached, and took one of the goblets; the squirrel looked up into her face, and smilingly said, “Good morning.” He then took a goblet, and asked politely if she would drink some dew with him; and they drank off their cups together.
“Pray tell me, Nut-cracker,” said Lilla, “what company has been feasting here on this rock; these broken goblets seem to tell of high glee and festivity.”