SWEET PEAS
Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight,
With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white
And taper fingers catching at all things,
To bend them all about with tiny rings.
John Keats.
A LEGEND OF THE PRIMROSE
In a cottage which stood near a large meadow lived a poor woman and her little child Elizabeth. The mother earned a scant living by spinning and weaving. She was not strong and could work for only a few hours at a time.
Each morning after the little girl had swept the cottage she ran to the meadow and gathered a large bunch of golden primroses. They were her mother's favorite flowers and Elizabeth knew that their sunny color brought good cheer to the room where her mother worked.
One fair morning Elizabeth wandered far across the meadows searching for the brightest blossoms. She filled her arms with the sweetest primroses she could find and turned to hasten back to the cottage when she saw standing near her a lovely little creature. Her dress was made from the golden petals of the primrose and so were her dainty shoes. On her head sparkled a tiny crown studded with yellow jewels. She carried a fairy basket which held a number of wonderfully beautiful primroses.