The summer moon shone brightly down upon the sleeping earth, while far
away from mortal eyes danced the Fairy folk. Fire-flies hung in bright
clusters on the dewy leaves, that waved in the cool night-wind; and the
flowers stood gazing, in very wonder, at the little Elves, who lay
among the fern-leaves, swung in the vine-boughs, sailed on the lake in
lily cups, or danced on the mossy ground, to the music of the
hare-bells, who rung out their merriest peal in honor of the night.
Under the shade of a wild rose sat the Queen and her little Maids of
Honor, beside the silvery mushroom where the feast was spread.
“Now, my friends,” said she, “to while away the time till the bright
moon goes down, let us each tell a tale, or relate what we have done or
learned this day. I will begin with you, Sunny Lock,” added she,
turning to a lovely little Elf, who lay among the fragrant leaves of a
primrose.
With a gay smile, “Sunny Lock” began her story.
“As I was painting the bright petals of a blue bell, it told me this
tale.”
THE FROST-KING:
OR,
THE POWER OF LOVE.
Three little Fairies sat in the fields eating their breakfast; each
among the leaves of her favorite flower, Daisy, Primrose, and Violet,
were happy as Elves need be.
The morning wind gently rocked them to and fro, and the sun shone
warmly down upon the dewy grass, where butterflies spread their gay
wings, and bees with their deep voices sung among the flowers; while
the little birds hopped merrily about to peep at them.
On a silvery mushroom was spread the breakfast; little cakes of
flower-dust lay on a broad green leaf, beside a crimson strawberry,
which, with sugar from the violet, and cream from the yellow milkweed,
made a fairy meal, and their drink was the dew from the flowers’ bright
leaves.
“Ah me,” sighed Primrose, throwing herself languidly back, “how warm
the sun grows! give me another piece of strawberry, and then I must
hasten away to the shadow of the ferns. But while I eat, tell me, dear
Violet, why are you all so sad? I have scarce seen a happy face since
my return from Rose Land; dear friend, what means it?”
“I will tell you,” replied little Violet, the tears gathering in her
soft eyes. “Our good Queen is ever striving to keep the dear flowers
from the power of the cruel Frost-King; many ways she tried, but all
have failed. She has sent messengers to his court with costly gifts;
but all have returned sick for want of sunlight, weary and sad; we have
watched over them, heedless of sun or shower, but still his dark
spirits do their work, and we are left to weep over our blighted
blossoms. Thus have we striven, and in vain; and this night our Queen
holds council for the last time. Therefore are we sad, dear Primrose,
for she has toiled and cared for us, and we can do nothing to help or
advise her now.”
“It is indeed a cruel thing,” replied her friend; “but as we cannot
help it, we must suffer patiently, and not let the sorrows of others
disturb our happiness. But, dear sisters, see you not how high the sun
is getting? I have my locks to curl, and my robe to prepare for the
evening; therefore I must be gone, or I shall be brown as a withered
leaf in this warm light.” So, gathering a tiny mushroom for a parasol,
she flew away; Daisy soon followed, and Violet was left alone.
Then she spread the table afresh, and to it came fearlessly the busy
ant and bee, gay butterfly and bird; even the poor blind mole and
humble worm were not forgotten; and with gentle words she gave to all,
while each learned something of their kind little teacher; and the love
that made her own heart bright shone alike on all.
The ant and bee learned generosity, the butterfly and bird contentment,
the mole and worm confidence in the love of others; and each went to
their home better for the little time they had been with Violet.
Evening came, and with it troops of Elves to counsel their good Queen,
who, seated on her mossy throne, looked anxiously upon the throng
below, whose glittering wings and rustling robes gleamed like
many-colored flowers.