There never were seen such beautiful gardens as bloomed in
Kisington-by-the-Sea. Not only every chateau and villa had its parterres
spread with blooming rugs of all colors; but each white-washed cottage,
every thatched hut, boasted its garden-plot of dainty posies. Each had
some quaint device or some special beauty which distinguished it from
the others. For there was great horticultural rivalry in
Kisington-by-the-Sea.
Now this was all because Hugh, the Lord Mayor, who was very fond of
flowers, had offered a prize for the prettiest garden in the town. The
Lord Mayor himself lived on a hill in the center of the town, in the
midst of the most beautiful garden of all. It flowed down the hillside
from the summit in ripples of radiant color,--roses and lilies, pinks
and daffodils, larkspur and snapdragon. All the flowers of the land were
there, and many foreigners beside.
Through the garden wound the yellow driveway by which the Lord Mayor
passed in his golden coach. He loved to drive slowly down this road,
sniffing the fragrance of his flowers; and then out through the streets
of the town, observing the beautiful gardens on every hand,--the result
of his own love for flowers.
When the Lord Mayor saw all the fair maidens down on their knees in the
flower-beds, watering the buds with their little green water-pots,
nipping off dead leaves, pulling up scrawny weeds, coaxing the delicate
creepers to climb, he would rub his hands and say:--
"Ah, this is good! This is very good indeed! We shall have the most
beautiful town in the world, blossoming with flowers, and the most
beautiful maids in the world, blossoming with health and sweetness like
the flowers they tend. It will be hard to tell which is the fairer, the
maidens or the flowers. Hey! Is it not so, my son?"
Then he would chuckle and poke in the ribs the young man who rode beside
him.
The Lord Mayor's son was very good to look upon; tall and fair, with
curly golden locks and eyes as brown as the heart of a yellow daisy.
When he drove through the town with the Lord Mayor, the maidens down on
their knees in their garden-plots would pause a moment from their chase
of a wriggling worm or a sluggish slug to look after the golden coach
and sigh gently. Then they would turn back to their Bowers more eagerly
than before. For there was the prize!
[Illustration: THE MAIDENS WOULD PAUSE TO LOOK AFTER THE GOLDEN COACH]
You see, the Lord Mayor's son was himself part of the prize to be won.
The Lord Mayor had vowed that Cedric, his son, should marry the girl who
could show by late summer the most beautiful garden in
Kisington-by-the-Sea. Moreover, he promised to build a fine palace to
overlook this prize garden, and there the young couple should live happy
ever after, like any Prince and Princess. And this was why the maids
worked so hard in the gardens of Kisington-by-the-Sea, and why the
flowers blossomed there as no flowers ever blossomed before.
Now one day the Lord Mayor drove through the village in his golden coach
and came out upon the downs near the seashore. And there, quite by
itself, he found a little cottage which he had never before seen: a tiny
cottage which had no sign of a garden anywhere about it,--only a few
flowers growing in cracked pots on the window-sills, and on the bench
just outside the door.
"What!" cried the Lord Mayor, stopping the coach. "What does this mean?
There should be a garden here. I must look to the reason for this
contempt of my offer." And he jumped down from the coach and rapped
sharply upon the door.
Presently the door opened, and there stood a girl, all in rags, but so
beautiful that the Lord Mayor's son, who was sitting languidly in the
golden coach, shut his eyes as one does when a great light shines
suddenly in one's face.
"Hey!" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Why have you no garden, girl?
Have you no pride? Do you not dream to win the prize which I offer?"
"I am a stranger," said the maiden timidly. "No one has told me of a
prize. What may it be, my Lord?"
"It is a prize worth trying for," said the Lord Mayor. "The hand of my
son there, and the finest palace in the land for the mistress of the
prize garden. Does that thought please you, girl? If not, you are
different from all the other maidens."
The girl lifted her eyes to the golden coach and met the gaze of Cedric
fixed upon her. "I love flowers," she said. "I had once a little garden
in my old home. But now I am too poor to buy plants and bulbs and
seedlings. How, then, shall I make a garden to please Your Lordship?"
"I will send you plants and bulbs and seedlings," said the Lord Mayor's
son, leaning forward eagerly. "You must make haste, for September will
soon be here, when the gardens will be judged."
"Thank you, fair sir," said the girl. "I shall love my garden dearly, if
you will help me."
Now when the Lord Mayor and his son had returned home, Cedric hastened
to keep his promise. For Gerda was the fairest maid in Kisington-by-the
Sea, and already he loved her so dearly that he hoped she would win the
prize and become his wife. He sent her the most beautiful flowers that
he could find, and transplanted from his father's garden its choicest
seedlings; he brought shrubs from the city market.
The meadow between Gerda's cottage and the sea was transformed as if by
magic, and became a mass of rare and lovely flowers. The choicest
foreign plants, the gayest native blooms, the shyest wild posies, all
were at home in Gerda's lovely garden over which the sea-breeze blew.
But Gerda herself was the fairest flower of them all. She watched and
cared for her garden tenderly, and like the garden she grew fairer every
day, she was so happy. She did not know how the other gardens grew, for
she did not go to see. But sometimes the Lord Mayor's son came,
disguised as a gardener, to see how the flowers fared. And he said that
she had the most beautiful garden in all Kisington-by-the-Sea, and he
hoped that she would win the prize; which was very encouraging.
No one else knew about Gerda's garden. It was far from town, and no one
dreamed that a stranger had come to live there. Besides, the neighbors
were so busy, each with her own affairs, that they had no time to go
about or ask questions, or gossip; which was a good thing.
No, I am wrong. One person had discovered the open secret. In a villa
not far from the Lord Mayor's house dwelt a Countess who was very rich
and proud. Until Gerda came she had boasted the finest garden in
Kisington, after the Lord Mayor's, made by a whole army of gardeners
whom she kept at her command. She was quite sure of winning the prize,
and it made her very gay, though she cared nothing at all about flowers.
She left all the care of her garden to her gardeners and scarcely ever
wandered down its lovely walks. But she longed to marry the Lord Mayor's
son and live in a palace. It was the palace that she coveted as a prize,
and the honor of being the Lord Mayor's daughter; to ride in the golden
coach!
She cared no more about Cedric himself than she did for her lovely
flowers.
One day this Countess, who had very sharp eyes, spied the Lord Mayor's
son, in his disguise, going past her villa with his arms full of curious
flowers such as were never before seen in Kisington-by-the-Sea. And
because she had unusually sharp eyes the Countess knew who he was.
"Aha!" she said to herself. "This is strange! Cedric is meddling with
some garden. I must look into this!" Secretly she followed Cedric
through the village and out to the seashore until he came to Gerda's
garden. And there she saw him walking with the fair stranger up and down
among the flowers. The secret was discovered.
The Countess was a very wicked woman. When she looked over the
transformed meadow and saw the beautiful garden which Gerda had made,
she nearly died of rage. She knew at once that against this one her own
garden had no chance of winning the prize. She stamped her feet in
jealous fury and cried:--
"She shall not have the palace! She shall not ride in the golden coach!
She shall not marry the Lord Mayor's son! I will see that she shall
not!"
The Countess stole home with wicked wishes in her heart and wicked plans
in her head. The next day but one was the day of the award, so she had
no time to lose. That night when every one was asleep she crept out of
her villa and along the road by which she had followed the Lord Mayor's
son, to Gerda's garden. Everything was quiet and peaceful. The flowers
looked very fair in the moonlight, breathing drowsy perfumes. But the
wicked woman cared nothing at all for them. Taking a great pair of
shears from her cloak she moved quickly in and out among the garden
beds, cutting and slashing the precious flowers and trampling them under
foot.
When she had finished her cruel work, not a single bud lifted its head
from the ruin. The flower-beds looked as though a tempest had swept
over them. Poor Gerda's garden was quite destroyed! The Countess
chuckled as she hurried home through the night: "We shall see now who
wins the prize!"
The next day Cedric thought that he would visit the garden of sweet
Gerda in which he had taken such an interest. Dressed in his gardener's
green smock he went through the town, whistling happily as any yokel.
But when he reached the little cottage by the sea, he ceased to whistle.
Gerda was sitting upon the doorstone weeping bitterly.
"What is the matter, Gerda?" asked Cedric anxiously, and he sought to
comfort her. She could only sob:--
"Oh! My dear garden! Oh! My poor flowers!"
With a sinking heart Cedric ran to the garden close, and there he saw
all the ruin that the wicked Countess had wrought.
"Alas! Who has done this?" he cried. But Gerda could not tell.
Cedric's heart was nearly broken. For he loved Gerda so dearly that he
thought he could not live if another should win the prize. To-morrow
would be the day that would determine his fate. What could they do?
Suddenly he had an idea.
"Farewell, Gerda!" he cried, and without another word he strode away.
Then Gerda wept more bitterly than ever. She thought that the Lord
Mayor's son was angry with her because her garden was destroyed. This
was worse even than the loss of her flowers.
But Cedric was far from angry with her. He had gone away in order to
think and plan. He had one hope. He remembered that he had a friend who
had once promised to help him in his time of trouble. The time had come.
That very night when the moon rose over the water, Cedric went down to
the sea and stood upon a rock and recited this charm:--
"Mermaid, Mermaid, rise from the sea!
I am in trouble. Hasten to me!"
Hardly had he spoken the words when there was a little ripple in the
water at his feet, and a beautiful Mermaid appeared, clinging to the
rock over which the waves dashed prettily in the moonlight. And she
said:--
"Lord Mayor's son, you have spoken the charm which I taught you, and I
have come from the bottom of the sea. I have not forgotten how once a
cruel fisherman caught me in his net, and how you had pity on me and
took me to the ocean and set me free. Then I promised to help you, if
ever you should be in trouble. What is your grief, Lord Mayor's son?"
Then Cedric told her about Gerda's garden and its mishap. "Ah! She must
be the sweet, ragged maid who used to sit upon the rocks and gaze down
into my ocean," said the Mermaid. "She has a good heart and loves the
sea. Early this morning I heard her weeping bitterly for her lost
flowers and for you. She loves you dearly, Lord Mayor's son, and I love
you both. What shall I do to help you?"
"Dear Mermaid," said Cedric eagerly, "can you find out the cruel person
who has destroyed Gerda's garden? And can you restore the garden itself
before to-morrow? I ask these two things of you."
"It is easy to find the jealous woman," said the Mermaid. "Her you will
know at the right time. But the garden is another matter. However, I
will do my best for the two whom I love. And now, farewell!" With that
word she slid down the rocks, and in a little splash of spray vanished
into the sea.
*****
Now came the day when the Lord Mayor was to judge the gardens of
Kisington-by-the-Sea. In all the towers the bells were ringing merrily,
and on every side the flowers and the fair maidens were blooming their
brightest. Through the town rode the Lord Mayor in his golden coach
drawn by six prancing white steeds, their necks wreathed with flowers;
and behind followed a great rout of townsfolk, eager to see the gardens
judged. In the Lord Mayor's coach sat Cedric by his father's side. He
was dressed all in white, as became a bridegroom, and in his hands he
carried a huge bouquet of white roses. His cheeks were white, too, for
he was anxious to know what this day should bring, and what maiden was
to receive the bridal bouquet.
Through the town the merry procession moved, and stopped in turn before
each garden, at the gate of which a sweet maid waited, her little heart
going pit-a-pat beneath her prettiest gown. The Lord Mayor inspected
each garden carefully, making notes in a little white-and-gold book. And
each fair maiden gazed at the handsome Cedric and hoped that the Lord
Mayor was writing down her name to be his daughter-in-law!
But all the gardens were so beautiful that it seemed impossible to
choose between them. In each the Lord Mayor looked and looked, smiled
and nodded,--"Very good! Very good, indeed! Beautiful, beautiful,
beautiful! I am truly proud of the fair flowers and the fair maids of
Kisington-by-the-Sea. Surely, never such were seen before!"
Then he noted his little memorandum, made a low bow to the maiden, and
mounting into the golden coach, whirled away to the next garden. At
last, when they had gone quite around the village, they came to the
villa of the wicked Countess. The crowd murmured admiringly. There was
no doubt about it; hers was certainly the finest garden of all. When the
Lord Mayor saw the gay parterres and fountains, the shady alleys and
cool grottoes, the wonderful flowers and shrubs growing luxuriantly
everywhere, he clapped his hands with pleasure and said:--
"Ah! This is Paradise, indeed! Here surely we must look for our bride.
Countess, I congratulate you!"
The Countess was dressed in a most costly gown of white satin and
velvet, as though she were sure beforehand that she was to be the bride.
She arched her neck and smiled maliciously at the Lord Mayor's son, in
whose eyes was no love for her.
"I shall be proud, indeed, to ride in your golden coach!" she said.
Cedric had grown very white, and he looked at the Countess with disgust.
She was so much less fair than Gerda, and her eyes so wicked! Must he
marry her, after all? Yes, unless the Mermaid had wrought a miracle in
Gerda's ruined garden. To that hope he still clung. "Father," he said
earnestly, "before you judge that this lady has won the prize, remember
that there is one more garden to visit. Have you forgotten the stranger
maiden who lives beside the sea, and how you bade her make a garden as
the other maids were doing? Let us first go there, for she may be
waiting."
"Ho, ho!" laughed the Lord Mayor; "I had in truth forgotten the pretty
beggar. It is absurd to dream that she should have a garden worth
visiting after that of our Countess here. Yet we will go to see, and do
her justice."
The Countess laughed shrilly. "A beggar's garden!" she cried. "That
must, indeed, be a wondrous sight!"
"Do you come with us, my lady," said the Lord Mayor politely. "Sit here
by my son's side in the Lord Mayor's coach. For I trow that here will
soon be your rightful place as his bride."
Now it pleased the Countess to ride in the Lord Mayor's coach; and it
pleased her more that she was to see the shame of Gerda and the
disappointment of Cedric when Gerda's pitiful little garden should be
judged. So with a great rustle of satin and lace she gave her hand to
the Lord Mayor and mounted proudly into the golden coach. But Cedric sat
beside her pale and silent, little like a happy bridegroom. With a
snapping of whips and tooting of horns off they went, rattling through
the streets of the town, out over the downs toward the sea.
Behind them followed the townsfolk in a great crowd, wondering
exceedingly whither the Lord Mayor was leading them. For they knew of no
garden here. Presently, with another flourish and a cracking of whips,
amid the barking of dogs and the shouts of little boys, the Lord Mayor's
coach drew up in front of the tiny cottage by the sea. And the people
wondered more than ever. For there was no garden anywhere to be seen.
The Lord Mayor alighted, chuckling as if it were all a great joke, and
helped down the Countess, who was grinning maliciously. Last of all
Cedric descended and stood waiting while the Lord Mayor with his staff
knocked three times upon the door.
Presently the door opened, and there stood Gerda, dressed all in a gown
of sea-green silk, with a string of pearls about her neck and a pink
coral wreath in her hair. She was so beautiful that all the people in
the crowd cried "Oh!" with a sound like the wind in the top of a pine
tree, and the Lord Mayor himself fell back a step, staring in surprise.
The Countess turned saffron yellow and bit her lips with envy; but still
she smiled; for she knew what she had done to Gerda's garden.
As for Cedric, he stood and gazed as though his eyes were glued to fair
Gerda's face, until after a bashful silence of a moment she spoke.
"You have come to see my garden," she said. "It is not like other
gardens, but I think it is very beautiful. Will you come with me?"
She led them around the cottage to the meadow beside the sea where once
had been the beautiful little garden which the Countess had destroyed.
But what was this? Where were the lawns and hedges and beds of flowers?
Where was the green grass? Gone! Over the spot lay a sheet of rippling
water, reflecting the Summer sky.
"What does this mean?" said the Lord Mayor, turning sternly to Gerda. "I
ask to see a garden, and you show me a pool of water. Girl, do you jest
at the Lord Mayor?"
"Nevertheless, this is my garden, sir," answered Gerda gently, "and a
fair garden I think you will find it, if you deign to look closely."
"Nonsense!" said the Lord Mayor crossly, and "Nonsense!" sniffed the
Countess with her nose in the air. But Cedric stepped forward with his
eyes shining, for he wanted justice done.
"Father," he begged, "let us go nearer, as the maiden asks, and look at
this which she calls her garden. Mayhap we shall find something new to
Kisington-by-the-Sea."
For when Cedric saw how sweetly the maid was dressed in colors and
tokens of the ocean, his heart leaped with hope that the Mermaid had in
some mysterious way redeemed her promise.
"Very well," said the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Let us see what this
foolish whim betokens. Show us your garden, girl."
Down the slope they went, followed by the gaping crowd which cast
curious looks upon Gerda as she walked by the side of the Lord Mayor's
son. "Tell me, what has happened, Gerda?" he asked her, speaking low so
that no one else might hear.
"Last night," she whispered, "I went to bed weeping for my lost flowers
and my lost hope. But at midnight I was awakened by the roaring of the
sea. It grew louder and louder, and at last a great wave seemed to burst
over the sea-wall and come foaming up even to the cottage door. I was
frightened sorely. But in the midst of my terror I heard a soft voice
cry:--
'Fear not, gentle Gerda, and weep no more for your lost flowers. The
gardeners of the sea have come to restore your garden. And there will be
a fine gown for you. Look for it upon the doorstone in the morning.
Farewell!' That was all.
The sea ceased its roaring, and peacefully I fell asleep. In the morning
I found upon the doorstone this green gown. And when I looked upon the
plot where late my poor little garden bloomed, I saw this. Behold!"
As she spoke they came to the edge of the pool. A chorus of wonder arose
from the crowd. The Lord Mayor stood with hands raised gazing down into
the pool; and every one else was gazing too, with eyes of admiration.
The water was as clear as glass, and one could see to the very bottom of
the hollow which had once held Gerda's unlucky garden. Now the basin was
floored with polished mother-of-pearl, with beds and borders of colored
shells in lovely patterns. There were lawns of many-hued ocean moss,
bordered by shrubs of coral, blossoming in every form and size and
color,--spikes and clusters, daisy-stars and bell shapes, all the
variety of a flower-garden. Sea-anemones and other living plants opened
and shut their tender petals. Delicate sea-ferns like maiden-hair and
flowering grasses grew upon rockeries of coral. Hedges of sea-weed,
green and brown, yellow and pink, waved their fronds gently in the water
as leaves do in the air. And to and fro among the branches of sea-trees
moved glittering shapes of gold and silver, pink and pale blue. These
were the rainbow fishes,--birds and butterflies of ocean, their delicate
fins moving more gracefully even than wings can do.
Dear little sea-horses raced up and down the coral alleys, and luminous
forms moved among the sea-weed, lighting the garden with living
lanterns. Here and there were grottoes of coral and pretty arbors, and
the garden was thronged with a multitude of curious sea-creatures even
the names of which no man knows. For the gardeners of Cedric's friend
the Mermaid had scoured the ocean to find the rarest and most beautiful
wonders which grow in a deep-sea garden, such as no mortal eye ever
sees.
After a time the Lord Mayor recovered breath to speak. "Maiden," he
said, "however you came by this wondrous ocean-garden I do not care to
ask. It is enough that we have such a treasure in Kisington-by-the-Sea.
Among all our lovely gardens it is the fairest. Among all our curious
flowers these living ones are rarest. I therefore judge that to you
belongs the prize."
Then a great cheer arose from the border of the pool where the folk were
bending eagerly to study the wonders in the waters below. Even the
maidens whose gardens had not won the prize cheered,--all except the
Countess. She ground her teeth with rage, for she saw that her wicked
plot had been in vain.
The Lord Mayor stepped forward and took Gerda's hand. "Come hither, my
son," he said, "and take this fair stranger to be your bride. In this
spot where her little cottage stands, I will build for you a beautiful
villa."
With a happy face Cedric took Gerda's hand in one of his, and with his
other gave her the great bouquet of roses. "I obey my father's wish," he
said. He needed not to tell that it was his own wish, too.
Thereupon every one cheered again, waving caps and handkerchiefs, for no
one could help loving the beautiful pair and wishing them happiness.
Only the Countess stood silent and frowning, looking ugly as a goblin.
When the shouting had ceased, Gerda stepped forward and spoke sweetly to
the people. "Kind friends," she said, "I am a stranger to your town, yet
my garden has been judged worthy of the prize. But I am sorry for the
fair maidens who have so long and faithfully tended their lovely
flowers. To me it seems that they also should have a reward. In my
garden grows a hedge of plants bearing precious fruit,--the pearl
oysters, which you see gaping with the white pearls in their mouths. I
would have each maid come and take one for her own."
There was great rejoicing and murmuring of thanks as the maidens came
forward one by one and bent over the pool to choose each a precious
pearl. The Countess alone hung back. "Come hither, Countess," said the
Lord Mayor, when he saw that all others had been rewarded save her only.
"Come hither and choose your pearl. You should, indeed, have the finest,
for your garden would have won the prize but for these sea-wonders by
which it was outdone."
"Choose, fair lady," said Gerda, smiling kindly. But the Countess would
not come. "I have pearls enough of my own," she snapped. "I need no
charity from a beggar!"
"What!" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Such words are not meetly
addressed to my daughter-in-law. Nay, they show an evil heart,
Countess!"
"Say that she shall do this, Father," cried Cedric, stepping forward
eagerly, for he seemed to hear a secret whisper from the Mermaid
prompting him; "else we shall think that she was the wicked one who
destroyed another's garden in the hope of winning the prize herself."
At this challenge the Countess came forward sullenly to the edge of the
pool. To take the nearest pearl she had to bend low, until her face drew
close to the water. Suddenly, the watching crowd saw a flash and a
splash and heard a shrill scream. The Countess rose, shrieking horribly.
A huge crab had fastened himself to her nose, and not easily could she
be freed from this unwelcome ornament! At last they tore away the crab,
but the tip of the Countess's nose was gone, and she wore a scar always,
even to the end of her unhappy days.
This was the Mermaid's punishment for her cruel harm to Gerda's garden.
But Gerda and Cedric lived happily ever after in the beautiful villa
which the Lord Mayor built for them on the edge of their wonder-garden
beside the sea. And sometimes the Mermaid herself came there to visit
them, and to bring them some new precious thing from the watery world
where she dwelt.