But hardly had she done when the root of a forget-me-not caught the drop of water by her hair, and sucked her in, that she might become a floweret, and twinkle brightly as a blue star on the green firmament of earth.
LEGEND OF THE FORGET-ME-NOT
There was once a little plant that grew by a shady brook. It had many companions even in this quiet spot. The great branches of the old tree stretched over it, and the beautiful flowers were friendly; but it did not seem happy. The flowers often thought they heard it sigh as its head drooped almost to the ground.
“How I wish I might have flowers like the other plants,” it said to itself, “blue ones, the colour of the beautiful sky. There is so much blue, surely some could be spared for the earth. Then the children would not always need to look up to see the sky.” But it kept its secret close to its heart and only bent its head a little lower.
“What makes you droop so, little plant?” asked one of the flowers. “Your leaves are quite down again. Surely the sun is not too warm here.”
“Tell us,” said the others, “perhaps we can be of some help to you. We want to see you look up again at the sky as you used to do.”
“It would be of no use to tell you,” answered the little plant. “I have often whispered my secret to the old tree as its branches swayed near me, but it has all been of no use,” and its head bent lower and lower.