Then a sweet, soft voice, called out from far, "Come hither, poor worm, to me; The sun lies warm in this quiet spot, And I'll share my home with thee."

The wondering flowers looked up to see Who had offered the worm a home: 'T was a clover-blossom, whose fluttering leaves Seemed beckoning him to come; It dwelt in a sunny little nook, Where cool winds rustled by, And murmuring bees and b.u.t.terflies came, On the flower's breast to lie.

Down through the leaves the sunlight stole, And seemed to linger there, As if it loved to brighten the home Of one so sweet and fair.

Its rosy face smiled kindly down, As the friendless worm drew near; And its low voice, softly whispering, said "Poor thing, thou art welcome here; Close at my side, in the soft green moss, Thou wilt find a quiet bed, Where thou canst softly sleep till Spring, With my leaves above thee spread.

I pity and love thee, friendless worm, Though thou art not graceful or fair; For many a dark, unlovely form, Hath a kind heart dwelling there; No more o'er the green and pleasant earth, Lonely and poor, shalt thou roam, For a loving friend hast thou found in me, And rest in my little home."

Then, deep in its quiet mossy bed, Sheltered from sun and shower, The grateful worm spun its winter tomb, In the shadow of the flower.

And Clover guarded well its rest, Till Autumn's leaves were sere, Till all her sister flowers were gone, And her winter sleep drew near.

Then her withered leaves were softly spread O'er the sleeping worm below, Ere the faithful little flower lay Beneath the winter snow.

Spring came again, and the flowers rose From their quiet winter graves, And gayly danced on their slender stems, And sang with the rippling waves.

Softly the warm winds kissed their cheeks; Brightly the sunbeams fell, As, one by one, they came again In their summer homes to dwell.

And little Clover bloomed once more, Rosy, and sweet, and fair, And patiently watched by the mossy bed, For the worm still slumbered there.

Then her sister flowers scornfully cried, As they waved in the summer air, "The ugly worm was friendless and poor; Little Clover, why shouldst thou care?

Then watch no more, nor dwell alone, Away from thy sister flowers; Come, dance and feast, and spend with us These pleasant summer hours.

We pity thee, foolish little flower, To trust what the false worm said; He will not come in a fairer dress, For he lies in the green moss dead."

But little Clover still watched on, Alone in her sunny home; She did not doubt the poor worm's truth, And trusted he would come.

At last the small cell opened wide, And a glittering b.u.t.terfly, From out the moss, on golden wings, Soared up to the sunny sky.

Then the wondering flowers cried aloud, "Clover, thy watch was vain; He only sought a shelter here, And never will come again."

And the unkind flowers danced for joy, When they saw him thus depart; For the love of a beautiful b.u.t.terfly Is dear to a flower's heart.

They feared he would stay in Clover's home, And her tender care repay; So they danced for joy, when at last he rose And silently flew away.

Then little Clover bowed her head, While her soft tears fell like dew; For her gentle heart was grieved, to find That her sisters' words were true, And the insect she had watched so long When helpless, poor, and lone, Thankless for all her faithful care, On his golden wings had flown.

But as she drooped, in silent grief, She heard little Daisy cry, "O sisters, look! I see him now, Afar in the sunny sky; He is floating back from Cloud-Land now, Borne by the fragrant air.

Spread wide your leaves, that he may choose The flower he deems most fair."

Then the wild rose glowed with a deeper blush, As she proudly waved on her stem; The Cowslip bent to the clear blue waves, And made her mirror of them.

Little Houstonia merrily danced, And spread her white leaves wide; While Daisy whispered her joy and hope, As she stood by her gay friends' side.

Violet peeped from the tall green ferns, And lifted her soft blue eye To watch the glittering form, that shone Afar in the summer sky.

They thought no more of the ugly worm, Who once had wakened their scorn; But looked and longed for the b.u.t.terfly now, As the soft wind bore him on.

Nearer and nearer the bright form came, And fairer the blossoms grew; Each welcomed him, in her sweetest tones; Each offered her honey and dew.

But in vain did they beckon, and smile, and call, And wider their leaves unclose; The glittering form still floated on, By Violet, Daisy, and Rose.

Lightly it flew to the pleasant home Of the flower most truly fair, On Clover's breast he softly lit, And folded his bright wings there.

"Dear flower," the b.u.t.terfly whispered low, "Long hast thou waited for me; Now I am come, and my grateful love Shall brighten thy home for thee; Thou hast loved and cared for me, when alone, Hast watched o'er me long and well; And now will I strive to show the thanks The poor worm could not tell.

Sunbeam and breeze shall come to thee, And the coolest dews that fall; Whate'er a flower can wish is thine, For thou art worthy all.

And the home thou shared with the friendless worm The b.u.t.terfly's home shall be; And thou shalt find, dear, faithful flower, A loving friend in me."

Then, through the long, bright summer hours Through sunshine and through shower, Together in their happy home Dwelt b.u.t.terfly and flower.

"Ah, that is very lovely," cried the Elves, gathering round little Sunbeam as she ceased, to place a garland in her hair and praise her song.

"Now," said the Queen, "call hither Moon-light and Summer-Wind, for they have seen many pleasant things in their long wanderings, and will gladly tell us them."

"Most joyfully will we do our best, dear Queen," said the Elves, as they folded their wings beside her.

"Now, Summer-Wind," said Moonlight, "till your turn comes, do you sit here and fan me while I tell this tale of

LITTLE ANNIE'S DREAM; OR, THE FAIRY FLOWER.

IN a large and pleasant garden sat little Annie all alone, and she seemed very sad, for drops that were not dew fell fast upon the flowers beside her, who looked wonderingly up, and bent still nearer, as if they longed to cheer and comfort her. The warm wind lifted up her shining hair and softly kissed her cheek, while the sunbeams, looking most kindly in her face, made little rainbows in her tears, and lingered lovingly about her. But Annie paid no heed to sun, or wind, or flower; still the bright tears fell, and she forgot all but her sorrow.

"Little Annie, tell me why you weep," said a low voice in her ear; and, looking up, the child beheld a little figure standing on a vine-leaf at her side; a lovely face smiled on her, from amid bright locks of hair, and shining wings were folded on a white and glittering robe, that fluttered in the wind.

"Who are you, lovely little thing?" cried Annie, smiling through her tears.

"I am a Fairy, little child, and am come to help and comfort you; now tell me why you weep, and let me be your friend," replied the spirit, as she smiled more kindly still on Annie's wondering face.

"And are you really, then, a little Elf, such as I read of in my fairy books? Do you ride on b.u.t.terflies, sleep in flower-cups, and live among the clouds?"

"Yes, all these things I do, and many stranger still, that all your fairy books can never tell; but now, dear Annie," said the Fairy, bending nearer, "tell me why I found no sunshine on your face; why are these great drops shining on the flowers, and why do you sit alone when BIRD and BEE are calling you to play?"

"Ah, you will not love me any more if I should tell you all,"

said Annie, while the tears began to fall again; "I am not happy, for I am not good; how shall I learn to be a patient, gentle child?

good little Fairy, will you teach me how?"

"Gladly will I aid you, Annie, and if you truly wish to be a happy child, you first must learn to conquer many pa.s.sions that you cherish now, and make your heart a home for gentle feelings and happy thoughts; the task is hard, but I will give this fairy flower to help and counsel you. Bend hither, that I may place it in your breast; no hand can take it hence, till I unsay the spell that holds it there."

As thus she spoke, the Elf took from her bosom a graceful flower, whose snow-white leaves shone with a strange, soft light. "This is a fairy flower," said the Elf, "invisible to every eye save yours; now listen while I tell its power, Annie. When your heart is filled with loving thoughts, when some kindly deed has been done, some duty well performed, then from the flower there will arise the sweetest, softest fragrance, to reward and gladden you. But when an unkind word is on your lips, when a selfish, angry feeling rises in your heart, or an unkind, cruel deed is to be done, then will you hear the soft, low chime of the flower-bell; listen to its warning, let the word remain unspoken, the deed undone, and in the quiet joy of your own heart, and the magic perfume of your bosom flower, you will find a sweet reward."

"O kind and generous Fairy, how can I ever thank you for this lovely gift!" cried Annie. "I will be true, and listen to my little bell whenever it may ring. But shall I never see YOU more? Ah! if you would only stay with me, I should indeed be good."

"I cannot stay now, little Annie," said the Elf, "but when another Spring comes round, I shall be here again, to see how well the fairy gift has done its work. And now farewell, dear child; be faithful to yourself, and the magic flower will never fade."

Then the gentle Fairy folded her little arms around Annie's neck, laid a soft kiss on her cheek, and, spreading wide her shining wings, flew singing up among the white clouds floating in the sky.

And little Annie sat among her flowers, and watched with wondering joy the fairy blossom shining on her breast.

The pleasant days of Spring and Summer pa.s.sed away, and in little Annie's garden Autumn flowers were blooming everywhere, with each day's sun and dew growing still more beautiful and bright; but the fairy flower, that should have been the loveliest of all, hung pale and drooping on little Annie's bosom; its fragrance seemed quite gone, and the clear, low music of its warning chime rang often in her ear.

When first the Fairy placed it there, she had been pleased with her new gift, and for a while obeyed the fairy bell, and often tried to win some fragrance from the flower, by kind and pleasant words and actions; then, as the Fairy said, she found a sweet reward in the strange, soft perfume of the magic blossom, as it shone upon her breast; but selfish thoughts would come to tempt her, she would yield, and unkind words fell from her lips; and then the flower drooped pale and scentless, the fairy bell rang mournfully, Annie would forget her better resolutions, and be again a selfish, wilful little child.

At last she tried no longer, but grew angry with the faithful flower, and would have torn it from her breast; but the fairy spell still held it fast, and all her angry words but made it ring a louder, sadder peal. Then she paid no heed to the silvery music sounding in her ear, and each day grew still more unhappy, discontented, and unkind; so, when the Autumn days came round, she was no better for the gentle Fairy's gift, and longed for Spring, that it might be returned; for now the constant echo of the mournful music made her very sad.

One sunny morning, when the fresh, cool Winds were blowing, and not a cloud was in the sky, little Annie walked among her flowers, looking carefully into each, hoping thus to find the Fairy, who alone could take the magic blossom from her breast. But she lifted up their drooping leaves, peeped into their dewy cups in vain; no little Elf lay hidden there, and she turned sadly from them all, saying, "I will go out into the fields and woods, and seek her there. I will not listen to this tiresome music more, nor wear this withered flower longer." So out into the fields she went, where the long gra.s.s rustled as she pa.s.sed, and timid birds looked at her from their nests; where lovely wild-flowers nodded in the wind, and opened wide their fragrant leaves, to welcome in the murmuring bees, while b.u.t.terflies, like winged flowers, danced and glittered in the sun.

Little Annie looked, searched, and asked them all if any one could tell her of the Fairy whom she sought; but the birds looked wonderingly at her with their soft, bright eyes, and still sang on; the flowers nodded wisely on their stems, but did not speak, while b.u.t.terfly and bee buzzed and fluttered away, one far too busy, the other too idle, to stay and tell her what she asked.

Then she went through broad fields of yellow grain, that waved around her like a golden forest; here crickets chirped, gra.s.shoppers leaped, and busy ants worked, but they could not tell her what she longed to know.

"Now will I go among the hills," said Annie, "she may be there."

So up and down the green hill-sides went her little feet; long she searched and vainly she called; but still no Fairy came. Then by the river-side she went, and asked the gay dragon-flies, and the cool white lilies, if the Fairy had been there; but the blue waves rippled on the white sand at her feet, and no voice answered her.

Then into the forest little Annie went; and as she pa.s.sed along the dim, cool paths, the wood-flowers smiled up in her face, gay squirrels peeped at her, as they swung amid the vines, and doves cooed softly as she wandered by; but none could answer her. So, weary with her long and useless search, she sat amid the ferns, and feasted on the rosy strawberries that grew beside her, watching meanwhile the crimson evening clouds that glowed around the setting sun.

The night-wind rustled through the boughs, rocking the flowers to sleep; the wild birds sang their evening hymns, and all within the wood grew calm and still; paler and paler grew the purple light, lower and lower drooped little Annie's head, the tall ferns bent to shield her from the dew, the whispering pines sang a soft lullaby; and when the Autumn moon rose up, her silver light shone on the child, where, pillowed on green moss, she lay asleep amid the wood-flowers in the dim old forest.

And all night long beside her stood the Fairy she had sought, and by elfin spell and charm sent to the sleeping child this dream.