PRINCE BUTTERFLY AND CLOVER
In a quiet, pleasant meadow, where green old trees waved their branches as the summer winds went singing by, bloomed a sisterhood of flowers. A neighbouring brook rippled musically, and passing clouds cast shadows upon the waving grass below.
The flowers were very happy together in this pleasant spot. No cold winds came to blight them, no rude hands tore them from their stems. Warm sunbeams smiled on them all day long, and the dewdrops refreshed them at night with a cooling drink.
One morning when the flowers awoke, fragrant and fresh, a little worm came creeping by.
"Oh, pity and love me," sighed the little worm. "Give me shelter, dear flowers. I am lonely, poor, and weak. A little spot for a resting place is all I ask. Only let me lie in the deep, green moss and weave my little tomb and sleep my long, unbroken sleep until spring's first flowers come. Then will I come forth in fairy dress, and repay your gentle care for a poor worm. Kind flowers, let me stay."
But none of the proud flowers would give shelter to the poor worm. Wild Rose showed her little thorns while her soft face glowed with pride. Violet hid beneath some drooping ferns and the daisy turned her face away. Little Houstonia laughed scornfully, as she danced on her slender stem, while Cowslip bent down and whispered the tale to the brook.
A blue-eyed Grass looked down on the poor worm as she silently turned away.
"You will harm our delicate leaves," she said; "that is why you may not stay."
At that moment a sweet voice called from a distance:
"Come here, poor worm, come to me. The sun lies warm in this quiet spot. I will share my home with you."