Now began their troubles in true earnest. The ground quaked and trembled beneath them; it was pitchy dark. Would the sun never shine again? Could no one speak a word of encouragement or consolation?
On, and on, and on they kept going, until at last, as nothing fearful happened, they ventured a little conversation.
"What a dash I shall cut at the show!" exclaimed a Turk's Lily.
"And I, in white and pink ribbons!" cried the pine-barren's beauty.
"Be quiet, little vanity," muttered a muffled voice in the corner. "Who will look at you when I am by?"
Andrew knew the great scarlet Amaryllis had spoken, and he said to himself, "We'll see, my fair lady."
The beauty cowered in silence, but a Violet whispered, "Shame!"
When the flowers reached the hall, with its long baize-covered tables, they forgot their troubles, and were greatly pleased. Men were running to and fro, boxes were being opened, and flowers all muffled from top to toe were coming in by the dozens. Here stood a regiment of Azaleas in white hoods and muffs, like a young ladies' boarding-school ready for a winter walk. There stood a company of Lilies with their night-caps on, and yonder a tall object swathed in tissue-paper. "Who can she be?—some grand personage truly," whispered a Daisy.
At that moment came a young man with sharp scissors. He cut off her cloak, and there stood lovely Miss Clereodendron, in white and scarlet from head to foot. "How exquisite!" cried all the flowers together.
But soon they found other wonders. On a table near at hand lay the daintiest sprays of flowering Peach, Almond, and Cherry, bunches of tiny Jonquils, creamy Magnolias, flaming Pirus, and May-apple.