When the summer came she began to make her children's cots. She wove the overlapping sides of brightest cot-green, strong and fine. Then, remembering the cow, she put a sharp p.r.i.c.kle at each point, and closed the points together. She made warm fluffy beds, and in them she placed her children.

They were tiny, helpless things, white and soft. They looked up at the shining walls as she gently put them in their cots, and asked: "Mother, must we always stay in here?"

"No, dear ones," said the mother; "when you are strong and brown you shall fly out over the world. But rest now while I make your wings."

Nothing daintier or more beautiful than their wings had ever been seen.

They were snow-white and glistening, and long and fine, and softer than the softest silk. She tied them firmly to the little shoulders, and in the middle of each wing she placed a long lilac-coloured plume. Then she gently opened the cots a little, and the plume-ends floated out into the sunshine. The children sang for joy.

"We have the most beautiful wings in the world," they sang. "Now we can fly away."

"Not yet," said Thistle-Mother. "Wait a little longer. You must grow brown and strong first."

The lilac plumes glowed in the sunshine, and the cots swung in the summer winds. "Now your time is coming, for your plumes are turning brown," said Thistle-Mother; the children looked at one another, and saw that they themselves had turned from white to lilac.

"Shall we be brown next?" they asked.

"Yes," she answered, "when your plumes are curled and twisted. Rest again."

Soon the plumes were curled and twisted, and Thistle-Mother opened the cots widely at the top. Now the children were brown and strong. When they saw the blue sky they sprang to meet it; but, instead of flying up, they tumbled in a heap on their mother's arms.

Thistle-Mother laughed tenderly at them. "You were in too great a hurry," she said. "Lie here till the wind comes. He will lift your wings and give you a start, and then you can fly away. And, children, when you have seen the world, and feel ready to settle down, be sure to choose a good growing-place. Then in time you too will become Thistle-Mothers. Ah! here comes the wind. Good-bye, my little ones."

"Good-bye, mother dear," they called gaily, for the wind was lifting them and spreading their wings. They floated up into the air, and flew off, their beautiful white feathers glistening like silver in the sunlight. "What a glorious place the world is!" they called to one another as they flew over the land. They went everywhere and saw everything. Those who remembered Thistle-Mother's words chose a good growing-place and settled down and became Thistle-Mothers themselves; but the careless ones, who forgot--well, n.o.body knows what became of them.

Left alone, Thistle-Mother folded her tired arms and sank into the ground, to sleep till summer and cot-making time should come again.

SALLY SNAIL'S WANDERINGS

"I smell strawberries," said Sally Snail. "They are somewhere across the road. I shall go and find them."

"Nonsense!" said the others. "It is too dangerous a journey. There are always boys and carts and birds, and all sorts of monsters on the road. You will never reach the other side alive."

"I am going," said Sally. She started off on her strong, creeping foot, leaving a shining wet trail behind her.

Her curly sh.e.l.l covered her back, but her head was thrust well out, so that the eyes on her two long horns could see the roadway and give warning if danger were near. With her shorter horns she followed the scent of the strawberries.

Half-way across the road a starling saw her. He flew down at once, thinking he had found an easy tea. But Sally Snail was too quick for him. In an instant she drew her head and foot into her sh.e.l.l, and sat down so firmly on the ground that the starling could not move her. He pulled at the sh.e.l.l, but he could not pull it off the ground. He pecked at it, but he could not pierce it with his beak.

"I will wait till you come out," he cried. "You can't stay here always!" But a boy came running down the road, and threw a stone at the starling. The frightened bird flew off, and Sally Snail continued her journey. The boy did not notice her, so she reached the hedge in safety, crawled through, and found the strawberries.

What a feast she had! She cut pieces out of the sweet fruit with the files in her mouth, sucked them in, and swallowed them. "If the others knew how good these are, I am sure they would all come too," she thought.

She stayed there till all the strawberries were gone; then she had to go back to eating leaves again.

"There is a cabbage garden through that next fence, I am sure," she said one day. "I shall go and see." So she travelled next into the cabbage garden. Here she found her cousins, the Slug family.

"Dear me, how strange you all look!" she said. "Why don't you grow sh.e.l.ls on your backs?"

"Don't give yourself airs. We have as blue blood as you," said the Slugs. They were touchy about their soft backs.

"How cross you are! I shall go and visit my cousins in the pond," said Sally.

However, the cabbages were very good, so she stayed till they were all cut and taken away. Then she crossed the garden, slipped through the fence, and came to the pond. Here her cousins, the Water Snails, were gliding across the top of the water, sh.e.l.l downwards, like a boat, and foot up like a sail.

"Oh! how lovely to be able to do that!" said Sally as she watched them.

"I have found you again!" said the Starling coming down with a swoop and a sharp peck.

Sally slipped into her sh.e.l.l, but this time she was not quite quick enough. The starling had caught one of her long horns, and now flew off with the eye from the end of it.

"It doesn't matter," said Sally. "I can easily grow another."

She crept under a bush and lived there for a time, and when she came out again another eye had grown at the end of the horn.

"I shall go home now," said Sally. She went home and told the others all about her travels. "We must certainly cross to the strawberry garden next year," said the Snails, "but now winter is coming fast--we must bury ourselves."

They crept into the ground, sealed up the mouths of their sh.e.l.ls with lime so that no enemies could enter, and went to sleep for the winter.

MILLY MUSHROOM

She was very tiny at first, and quite brown. Her mother laid her gently on the ground and said: "Creep down into the warmth and grow."

So Milly crept down into the warmth, and grew into a little white girl as thin as a thread. For a year she stayed under the ground with her brothers and sisters; then they all put on their best velvet hoods and puffed themselves out to go up into the world.

Billy b.u.t.ton sprang up first. He called down to Milly: "Come up, little sister. The sun is shining through a silver mist and everything is glorious."

"I am not quite ready," said Milly Mushroom. "I must grow bigger first."

She puffed herself out as fast as she could, and at last was ready to go up. She tied her hood over her face to keep the wind off her soft cheeks. Then she too sprang up.

"Oh, dear," she said, "how strange it feels up here!"

"You will soon grow used to it," said Billy b.u.t.ton. "Hurry up and grow, and turn pink like me."

Milly grew and grew and turned pink like Billy b.u.t.ton. Then she untied her hood and peeped out, showing her soft cheeks and pretty white collar.

"What a great world it is!" she said. "It is all so wide and high. I am a little afraid."

"This is only a bit of the world," said Billy b.u.t.ton. "I know, for the Flying Beetle told me. He has travelled far, and has seen wonderful sights. Ah! how I should like to travel!"

"I would rather stay at home," said Milly. She was trembling a little; everything seemed strange up here in the strong light.

"Grow close to me," said a friendly Thistle. "I will shelter you with my long arms." She stretched out one of her arms, and Milly nestled beneath it and was comforted.