THE ROSE-JAR BABY.
The rose-jar baby had tiny wings, but no one had ever seen them while
he slept on the cover of the rose-jar in mamma’s room. One drowsy
summer day Ray raised the cover from the rose-jar. Instantly there was
wafted about a faint delicious odor and the lovely little baby opened
his eyes and smiled at Ray. Then he began to fly around the room like
a great butterfly, indeed he was not any larger than one. Ray followed
him about the room and out into the garden and thence down a long path
to the edge of the woods.
In this place some very beautiful roses were growing and the rose-jar
baby flew right into the heart of one of them. He whispered something
to the rose and all at once out of its very center peeped a bright
little face. Then other faces appeared, until every rose on the bushes
showed a lovely, smiling countenance.
“These are my brothers and sisters,” said the rose-jar baby,
introducing them to Ray, who was delighted to meet them.
The baby talked with his brothers and sisters about many things.
They told him about some butterflies who had been visiting them that
morning, and other friends. They spoke about the fine weather, and the
rose-jar baby said:
“I will not stay any longer because I am on my way to Glen Fair. I
suppose I will see you there later.”
“Yes,” answered all the roses together, “we are coming very soon.”
The baby then started to fly into the woods and Ray followed until he
began to feel very tired.
“Will you please rest a moment?” said Ray to the rose-jar baby, “and
tell me if it is far to Glen Fair.”
“It is only a short distance from here,” said the baby, “we will soon
be there.”
“And what is Glen Fair?” asked the little boy.
“Well, my dear little friend,” said the baby, “Glen Fair is a beautiful
place, where all the flowers that live about here, and many creatures
as well, may go to enjoy themselves.”
“What do they all do there?” asked Ray with interest.
“That you will see for yourself,” was the answer.
“It seems strange,” continued the child, “that I have never seen it in
these woods.”
“It is not strange,” said the rose-jar baby, “that you have never seen
it. No mortal has ever seen it, and yet there is a Glen Fair in every
bit of woods.”
“Why can’t we see it?” asked Ray.
“Because it belongs to the fairies and no mortal can find it unless
guided there by one of us.”
“You are very kind to guide me,” said Ray, and with these words the
rose-jar baby continued his flight. Ray followed him until he stopped
at some high rocks. The baby flew right over them and Ray was left
alone. “I must climb over those rocks,” said Ray to himself, “for that
must be Glen Fair.” He began to climb with hands and feet and was soon
on the other side safe and sound. He sat on the grass behind a rock and
as he looked around him, he thought Glen Fair was indeed a beautiful
place. Ray never knew that flowers had such sweet, smiling faces.
There were ever so many buttercups standing near him laughing and
talking together, their faces shining just as if they had been washed
with soap. A group of daisies near the buttercups looked very neat with
white collars around their necks. Some beautiful butterflies were in
a constant flutter of excitement and a row of grasshoppers wore tiny
spectacles that made them look just like professors. In a few moments
Ray saw all the brothers and sisters of the rose-jar baby coming into
Glen Fair, and at their head a very large beautiful rose lady. All the
flowers bowed to her and called her queen. A handsome butterfly with
a velvet cape edged with gold flew to meet her and escorted her to a
mossy throne.
When the queen of the roses was seated, some bees who had been buzzing
around all the flowers placed some tiny packages at her feet, saying,
“A present of our choicest honey for our beautiful queen.”
“Thank you, my good friends,” said the queen, and bowed her stately
head.
Just then a group of dear little violets in blue caps and white aprons,
who had kept out of sight all the time, stepped forth and spread a
white cloth on a long table. The queen of the roses took her place at
the head and all the others sat around her. Ray could not see what they
had to eat, but he heard the queen say, “This dew is so refreshing,”
and she passed her tiny cup to a bluebell to have it filled again.
The flowers nodded and chatted, and one of them, Jack-in-the-pulpit,
proposed a toast to the queen. Then all the flowers nodded, and
somebody called out, “Speech!” everybody took it up and said, “Speech,
speech!”
Little Jack arose and said: “Ladies and gentlemen and my fat friend
the bullfrog yonder, this is a very joyous occasion, so let us all be
jolly,--if there is a croaker here” (he glanced at the bullfrog) “we
hope he may change his tune. We shall always do our best to make things
bright for mortals; all we ask of them is a little consideration and
room to grow. When we have that--well, my friends, you have only to
look at our beautiful lady to see the result. Ladies and gentlemen, I
drink to the Queen of the Roses.”
They all raised their tiny cups and drank with nods of approval at
little Jack. When the spread was over, there was dancing and the music
was furnished by a band of bullfrogs. They played on reeds and wind
instruments, uniformed in green and yellow. Ray thought it was very
pretty to see the rose-jar baby dancing with a tiny humming-bird.
After they had danced a while some of them began to play games. Ray
was very much surprised to see some squirrels playing at baseball.
They used a round nut for a ball and a straight twig for a bat. What
fun they seemed to have! The pitcher did not seem in any hurry to
throw the ball. He rolled it round and round and then over his head
and once or twice twisted his whole body. Indeed, he had all the airs
and manners of a professional. At last Ray grew impatient and called
out from behind the rock, “Play ball!” At the same instant the pitcher
lightly tossed the ball and the gray squirrel at the bat knocked
it away over some bushes. Ray clapped his hands with delight and
watched the fun for a long time. His attention was then attracted to
some bullfrogs. Of course they were playing leap-frog. That is their
national game, and Ray laughed aloud when a great fat frog would jump
over a small one. Some spiders were playing tennis over one of their
own webs, and it was very interesting to watch them. Suddenly a jolly
circle of little brown field-mice scampered to the very rock that was
hiding Ray. Their eyes twinkled when they saw him and they began to
play ring-ring-a-ring-around, with Ray in the middle. He never enjoyed
anything so much and clapped his hands while they skipped around. All
at once they began to play tag, scampering everywhere, trying to catch
each other. Ray grew very much excited watching them, and at last
jumped to his feet, saying, “Catch me, catch me.” Then he started to
run, with all the little brown field-mice after him. They ran over
twigs and stones and in and out of winding paths. They passed tall
pine trees and dodged in among green bushes. Ray never knew before that
he could run so fast, but at last he was out of breath and had to stop.
The mice ran right past him and were soon out of sight. Ray looked
around and found that he was at the edge of the woods quite near home.
He stretched on the warm grass to rest a minute, and while he was
looking up at the blue sky the rose-jar baby flew over his head and
straight down the garden path to the house. After resting awhile Ray
arose and followed, singing softly to himself:--
“Ring-a-ring-around!
A little boy was found
By some merry field-mice:
Don’t you think that was nice
Ring-a-ring-around!”