Then what a whispering and putting of heads together there was among the grasses, as the breeze crept up the hillside. They arose next morning before the sun, that they might wash their ribbons in the gleaming pearls of dew. What prinking and preening! What rustling of ruffles and sashes! What burnishing of armour and spears! At length the King’s bugle rang out that called them to the grand assembly. Full of excitement, they stood before the King, each hoping that he might be chosen for one of the great honours.
The King greeted them as on the previous day, and told them again of the high honour that he was about to bestow. “But,” said he, “in this Court of Judgment I must have willing servants to assist me. First, I must have a keeper of the gate so that no outsider may enter. Which one of this host will be keeper of the gate?”
Not a man-grass stirred in his tracks, for each feared that if he became a servant of the King, he would lose his chance to be made a lord.
“Which one?” asked the King again; “which one will volunteer to keep the gate for me?”
At this moment a sturdy grass was seen coming down the hillside. He was not handsome, but he was strong, his shoulders were broad, and his chest was deep, and he was armed to the teeth. Spear points stuck from every pocket, arrows filled his belt, and in each hand he carried a lance sharp as lightning. “Let these wait for their honours,” thought he, as he said, “I will serve the King.”
“So be it,” said the King; “take your station at the gate. And now,” continued the King, “I must have a herald to announce my awards and my commands. Who will be my herald?”
Again there was silence among the man-grasses, till at last one of them was seen to advance. He was short and round and smiling, as happy a grass as grew on the hill. He came before the King as fast as his short legs could carry him. “So it please the King, I’ll be his royal herald.”
“So be it,” replied the King. “Stand here at my feet.”
“Two torch-bearers I need,” said the King; “two torch-bearers, tall and comely, to hold the lights on high. Who will serve the King as torch-bearers?”
And now there was silence and stiffness among the lady-grasses, as each, fearing to lose her chance to be made a lady, waited for the others. At length two slender maidens advanced with glowing faces and hesitant step. They were not as beautiful, it must be said, as some of their sisters. Their ribbons were few and some of them frayed. They scarcely knew whether the King would accept them, but they meekly offered themselves. “We, O King, will be your torch-bearers.”