For many seasons the Golden-rods had reigned over the meadow, and no
one thought of choosing a king from any other family, for they were
strong and handsome, and loved to rule.
But one autumn something happened which caused a great excitement
among the flowers. It was proposed to have a queen, and such a thing
had never been heard of before. It began among the Asters; for some
of them grew outside the wall beside the road, and saw and heard
what went on in the great world. These sturdy plants told the news
to their relations inside; and so the Asters were unusually wise and
energetic flowers, from the little white stars in the grass to the
tall sprays tossing their purple plumes above the mossy wall.
“Things are moving in the great world, and it is time we made a
change in our little one,” said one of the roadside Asters, after a
long talk with a wandering wind. “Matters are not going well in the
meadow; for the Golden-rods rule, and they care only for money and
power, as their name shows. Now, we are descended from the stars,
and are both wise and good, and our tribe is even larger than the
Golden-rod tribe; so it is but fair that we should take our turn at
governing. It will soon be time to choose, and I propose our stately
cousin, Violet Aster, for queen this year. Whoever agrees with me,
say Aye.”
Quite a shout went up from all the Asters; and the late Clovers and
Buttercups joined in it, for they were honest, sensible flowers,
and liked fair play. To their great delight the Pitcher-plant, or
Forefathers’ Cup, said “Aye” most decidedly, and that impressed all
the other plants; for this fine family came over in the _Mayflower_,
and was much honoured everywhere.
But the proud Cardinals by the brook blushed with shame at the
idea of a queen; the Fringed Gentians shut their blue eyes that
they might not see the bold Asters; and Clematis fainted away in the
grass, she was so shocked. The Golden-rods laughed scornfully, and
were much amused at the suggestion to put them off the throne where
they had ruled so long.
“Let those discontented Asters try it,” they said. “No one will vote
for that foolish Violet, and things will go on as they always have
done; so, dear friends, don’t be troubled, but help us elect our
handsome cousin who was born in the palace this year.”
In the middle of the meadow stood a beautiful maple, and at its foot
lay a large rock overgrown by a wild grapevine. All kinds of flowers
sprang up here; and this autumn a tall spray of Golden-rod and a
lovely violet Aster grew almost side by side, with only a screen of
ferns between them. This was called the palace; and seeing their
cousin there made the Asters feel that their turn had come, and many
of the other flowers agreed with them that a change of rulers ought
to be made for the good of the kingdom.
So when the day came to choose, there was great excitement as the
wind went about collecting the votes. The Golden-rods, Cardinals,
Gentians, Clematis, and Bitter-sweet voted for the Prince, as they
called the handsome fellow by the rock. All the Asters, Buttercups,
Clovers, and Pitcher-plants voted for Violet; and to the surprise
of the meadow the Maple dropped a leaf, and the Rock gave a bit of
lichen for her also. They seldom took part in the affairs of the
flower people,--the tree living so high above them, busy with its own
music, and the rock being so old that it seemed lost in meditation
most of the time; but they liked the idea of a queen (for one was a
poet, the other a philosopher), and both believed in gentle Violet.
Their votes won the day, and with loud rejoicing by her friends she
was proclaimed queen of the meadow and welcomed to her throne.
“We will never go to Court or notice her in any way,” cried the
haughty Cardinals, red with anger.
“Nor we! Dreadful, unfeminine creature! Let us turn our backs and be
grateful that the brook flows between us,” added the Gentians,
shaking their fringes as if the mere idea soiled them.
Clematis hid her face among the vine leaves, feeling that the palace
was no longer a fit home for a delicate, high-born flower like
herself. All the Golden-rods raged at this dreadful disappointment,
and said many untrue and disrespectful things of Violet. The Prince
tossed his yellow head behind the screen, and laughed as if he did
not mind, saying carelessly:
“Let her try; she never can do it, and will soon be glad to give up
and let me take my proper place.”
So the meadow was divided: one half turned its back on the new queen;
the other half loved, admired, and believed in her; and all waited to
see how the experiment would succeed. The wise Asters helped her with
advice; the Pitcher-plant refreshed her with the history of the brave
Puritans who loved liberty and justice, and suffered to win them; the
honest Clovers sweetened life with their sincere friendship, and the
cheerful Buttercups brightened her days with kindly words and deeds.
But her best help came from the rock and the tree,--for when she
needed strength she leaned her delicate head against the rough
breast of the rock, and courage seemed to come to her from the wise
old stone that had borne the storms of a hundred years; when her
heart was heavy with care or wounded by unkindness, she looked up
to the beautiful tree, always full of soft music, always pointing
heavenward, and was comforted by these glimpses of a world above her.
The first thing she did was to banish the evil snakes from her
kingdom; for they lured the innocent birds to death, and filled many
a happy nest with grief.
The next task was to stop the red and black ants from constantly
fighting; for they were always at war, to the great dismay of more
peaceful insects. She bade each tribe keep in its own country, and
if any dispute came up, to bring it to her, and she would decide it
fairly. This was a hard task; for the ants loved to fight, and would
go on struggling after their bodies were separated from their heads,
so fierce were they. But she made them friends at last, and every one
was glad.
Another reform was to purify the news that came to the meadow. The
wind was telegraph-messenger; but the birds were reporters, and some
of them very bad ones. The larks brought tidings from the clouds,
and were always welcome; the thrushes from the wood, and all loved
to hear their pretty romances; the robins had domestic news, and
the lively wrens bits of gossip and witty jokes to relate. But the
magpies made such mischief with their ill-natured tattle and evil
tales, and the crows criticised and condemned every one who did not
believe and do just as they did; so the magpies were forbidden to go
gossiping about the meadow, and the gloomy black crows were ordered
off the fence where they liked to sit cawing dismally for hours at a
time.
Every one felt safe and comfortable when this was done, except the
Cardinals, who liked to hear their splendid dresses and fine feasts
talked about, and the Golden-rods, who were so used to living in
public that they missed the excitement, as well as the scandal of the
magpies and the political and religious arguments and quarrels of the
crows.
A hospital for sick and homeless creatures was opened under the big
burdock leaves; and there several belated butterflies were tucked up
in their silken hammocks to sleep till spring, a sad lady-bug, who
had lost all her children, found comfort in her loneliness, and many
crippled ants sat talking over their battles, like old soldiers, in
the sunshine.
It took a long time to do all this, and it was a hard task, for
the rich and powerful flowers gave no help. But the Asters worked
bravely, so did the Clovers and Buttercups and the Pitcher-plant kept
open house with the old-fashioned hospitality one so seldom sees
nowadays. Everything seemed to prosper, and the meadow grew more
beautiful day by day. Safe from their enemies, the snakes, birds came
to build in all the trees and bushes, singing their gratitude so
sweetly that there was always music in the air. Sunshine and shower
seemed to love to freshen the thirsty flowers and keep the grass
green, till every plant grew strong and fair, and passers-by stopped
to look, saying with a smile:--
“What a pretty little spot this is!”
The wind carried tidings of these things to other colonies, and
brought back messages of praise and good-will from other rulers, glad
to know the experiment worked so well.
This made a deep impression on the Golden-rods and their friends, for
they could not deny that Violet had succeeded better than any one
dared to hope; and the proud flowers began to see that they would
have to give in, own they were wrong, and become loyal subjects of
this wise and gentle queen.
“We shall have to go to Court if ambassadors keep coming with such
gifts and honours to Her Majesty; for they wonder not to see us
there, and will tell that we are sulking at home instead of shining
as _we_ only can,” said the Cardinals, longing to display their red
velvet robes at the feasts which Violet was obliged to give in the
palace when kings came to visit her.
“Our time will soon be over, and I’m afraid we must humble ourselves
or lose all the gaiety of the season. It is hard to see the good old
ways changed; but if they must be, we can only gracefully submit,”
answered the Gentians, smoothing their delicate blue fringes, eager
to be again the belles of the ball.
Clematis astonished every one by suddenly beginning to climb the
maple-tree and shake her silvery tassels like a canopy over the
Queen’s head.
“I cannot live so near her and not begin to grow. Since I must cling
to something, I choose the noblest I can find, and look up, not down,
forevermore,” she said; for like many weak and timid creatures, she
was easily guided, and it was well for her that Violet’s example had
been a brave one.
Prince Golden-rod had found it impossible to turn his back entirely
upon Her Majesty, for he was a gentleman with a really noble heart
under his yellow cloak; so he was among the first to see, admire, and
love the modest, faithful flower who grew so near him. He could not
help hearing her words of comfort or reproof to those who came to her
for advice. He saw the daily acts of charity which no one else
discovered; he knew how many trials came to her, and how bravely she
bore them.
“She had done more than ever we did to make the kingdom beautiful and
safe and happy, and I’ll be the first to own it, to thank her and
offer my allegiance,” he said to himself, and waited for a chance.
One night when the September moon was shining over the meadow, and
the air was balmy with the last breath of summer, the Prince ventured
to serenade the Queen on his wind-harp. He knew she was awake; for he
had peeped through the ferns and seen her looking at the stars with
her violet eyes full of dew, as if something troubled her. So he sang
his sweetest song, and Her Majesty leaned nearer to hear it; for she
much longed to be friends with the gallant Prince, because both were
born in the palace and grew up together very happily till coronation
time came.
As he ended she sighed, wondering how long it would be before he told
her what she knew was in his heart.
Golden-rod heard the soft sigh, and forgetting his pride, he pushed
away the screen, and whispered, while his face shone and his voice
showed how much he felt.
“What troubles you, sweet neighbour? Forget and forgive my
unkindness, and let me help you if I can,--I dare not say as Prince
Consort, though I love you dearly; but as a friend and faithful
subject, for I confess that you are fitter to rule than I.”
As he spoke the leaves that hid Violet’s golden heart opened wide
and let him see how glad she was, as she bent her stately head and
answered softly.
“There is room upon the throne for two: share it with me as King, and
let us rule together.”
What the Prince answered only the moon knows; but when morning came
all the meadow was surprised and rejoiced to see the gold and purple
flowers standing side by side, while the maple showered its rosy
leaves over them, and the old rock waved his crown of vine-leaves as
he said:
“This is as it should be; love and strength going hand in hand, and
justice making the earth glad.”
The lands are lit
With all the autumn blaze of golden-rod,
And everywhere the purple asters nod
And bend and wave and flit.
HELEN HUNT JACKSON.