It was a long time before he had finished a flower-bud. When the first one was done he thought it looked rather odd.

"There is something peculiar about that flower-bud," he said to himself.

"It is really more like a big drop of snow than a flower! I suppose that comes of making snowflakes for so long. I must try again."

So he tried again, and again, and again. But every time the flower-bud was exactly like a big drop of snow.

"I can't help it," he said at last. "They _will_ keep on being like drops of snow. But, after all, there is no reason why a flower should not be like a drop of snow. They are dear little flowers, anyway, and I shall go on making them like this."

So he went on for a long time making flowers that were like drops of snow, and dear little flowers they were.

In the meantime Starblossom was hard at work making snowflakes. She knew no more about making snowflakes than Drop-of-Crystal knew about making flowers, but, like Drop-of-Crystal, she determined to do the best she could without asking for help. She took a long time to make the first snowflake, because she was accustomed to finish her flowers very carefully, and she liked everything she made to be pretty. She laughed to herself as she put down the first finished snowflake.

"That is what comes of making nothing but flowers," she said. "That snowflake is exactly like a flower!"

She was quite right. The snowflake was like a delicate, starry flower, light as air, and clear as crystal, and glistening in the sunshine.

"I like that kind of snowflake," said Starblossom. "I shall make some more."

So she made a great number of snowflakes, and they were all like feathery flowers, all different in shape, but all beautiful.

"I should like to go on making snow-flowers always," she said to herself.

At that moment Drop-of-Crystal flew up to her in a great hurry.

"Oh, do come and see my nice new flowers," he cried. "They are quite a new kind, and they are so pretty--just like drops of snow!"

"And my drops of snow are just like flowers!" cried Starblossom. "And I want to go on making them always, because they are so beautiful."

"Well then," said Drop-of-Crystal, clapping his hands, "suppose you and I change places! You shall go on making snowflakes, and I'll go on making flowers!"

So that was the way they settled it.

And because Drop-of-Crystal was a snow-fairy, the flowers he made were always like drops of snow; and because Starblossom was a flower-fairy, the snowflakes she made were always like flowers.

That is the reason why, to this day, the first flowers of Spring are like drops of snow, and the snowflakes are like beautiful, starry flowers. You must often have noticed it yourself.

_THE MAKING OF THE OPAL_

The opal was the last of the precious stones to be made. And this was how it happened.

Long, long ago--so long ago that no one had ever seen a ruby or a sapphire or an emerald--there was a Princess who had a great many friends among the fairies. Because they loved her they called her the Dear Princess, and the country in which she lived was known as the Crystal Mountain. It was the delight of the fairies to do her bidding, to fly and fly over hill and dale to fetch her anything she wished to have. Sometimes she wished to have very curious things, because all the ordinary things that Princesses like to have had been brought to her long ago by the fairies. If she wanted things that no one had ever heard of before, the fairies would set to work to make them for her. One day she said--

"Oh, Fairies dear, I am going to be married. I am going to marry the Prince of the Far Land over the Hill, and the wedding is to be the grandest ever seen. My dress is lovely: it was cut out of a rainbow on purpose for me, and trimmed with the edge of a sunset cloud. But what _am_ I to wear in my hair?"

Now, the Princess's hair hung over her in dark waves, like a long cloak.

"Flowers!" cried the fairies. "Quick--quick--let us fly for flowers to twist in the Dear Princess's hair!"

So they all flew away, some in one direction and some in another, while the Dear Princess of the Crystal Mountain sat and waited, with her cloud of hair hanging round her.

Very soon she saw them flying back, some from gardens and some from orchards, and some from the hills where the heather grew, and some from country lanes where the flowers were very sweet, and some from hothouses where the flowers were very rare. Wherever they came from they were all laden with flowers. Some brought roses, red and white and yellow; some brought heavy white lilies; some brought long trails of honeysuckle.

Some were carrying great bundles of forget-me-nots; others had strange flowers from distant countries; others had bunches of golden daffodils.

They crowded round the Dear Princess, and laid the flowers in great heaps beside her.

"Wear my roses!" cried one. "See how the crimson of them glows in your dark hair!"

"Wear my daffodils!" cried another. "See how they shine like gold!"

"Wear my lilies!" cried a third, "for they match your lily-face!"

Then they all held up the flowers against the Princess's dark hair, to see which looked the best; red, or yellow, or white. The Princess herself found it very hard to make up her mind, because they were all so beautiful that she would have liked to wear them all. First she chose one, and then another, and then she thought that, after all, a third would look the best.

This went on for so long that at last the flowers died.

"Ah, look," said the Princess, "the flowers are dead!"

"Oh dear, oh dear!" cried all the fairies together. "The flowers are dead! What shall we do now?"

The Princess sat down among the dead flowers, and thought.

"I must have something that will not die," she said at last, "something stronger than flowers. In my dark hair I must have something that will gleam and sparkle. I must have colour that will not fade, a dewdrop that will not melt, a spark of fire that will not go out."

"Dear me!" said the fairies; and they said no more for some time, for they were thinking that the Dear Princess wanted a good deal.

After a time three of them began talking together all at once, as if a very good idea had suddenly come into their heads.

Then these three spread their wings and flew away. They flew far away from the Princess and her palace, far from the other fairies, up and up to the heights of the Crystal Mountain. Then each of them chipped off a little piece of the rock at the top of the mountain, and each, as he did it, laughed aloud gleefully. Then each little fairy tucked his chip of rock under his arm; and they all nodded to each other, still laughing, and spread their wings again, and flew off in different directions.

The first of the three, with his chip of rock under his arm, flew straight to the sea-sh.o.r.e. On the sh.o.r.e, close to the shining blue sea, there lived a very nice mermaid who was a great friend of the fairy's.

So he flew to her with the bit of crystal rock and said--

"Mermaid, mermaid, here is a chip from the Crystal Mountain. Take it for me, and dip it into the darkest and deepest deep of the blue sea."

So the mermaid took the crystal chip and dived down with it into the darkest and deepest deep of the blue sea.

Now, it is well known that whatever is touched by the deepest deep of the sea is changed by it for ever, and becomes itself a part of the sea.

And so, when the mermaid brought the chip of crystal back to the fairy it had become like a chip of the sea--shining and gleaming and deep, deep blue.

And that was the first sapphire.

And when the second fairy left the Crystal Mountain with his little bit of rock under his arm, he flew to the great forest where the wood-pixies lived.

"Pixies, pixies," he called to them, "here is a chip from the Crystal Mountain. Take it for me into the darkest and deepest deep of the green forest, and do not bring it back to me till the green of the forest has sunk into its very heart."