Down among the grass and fragrant clover lay little Eva by the
brook-side, watching the bright waves, as they went singing by under
the drooping flowers that grew on its banks. As she was wondering where
the waters went, she heard a faint, low sound, as of far-off music. She
thought it was the wind, but not a leaf was stirring, and soon through
the rippling water came a strange little boat.
It was a lily of the valley, whose tall stem formed the mast, while the
broad leaves that rose from the roots, and drooped again till they
reached the water, were filled with gay little Elves, who danced to the
music of the silver lily-bells above, that rang a merry peal, and
filled the air with their fragrant breath.
On came the fairy boat, till it reached a moss-grown rock; and here it
stopped, while the Fairies rested beneath the violet-leaves, and sang
with the dancing waves.
Eva looked with wonder on their gay faces and bright garments, and in
the joy of her heart sang too, and threw crimson fruit for the little
folks to feast upon.
They looked kindly on the child, and, after whispering long among
themselves, two little bright-eyed Elves flew over the shining water,
and, lighting on the clover-blossoms, said gently, “Little maiden, many
thanks for your kindness; and our Queen bids us ask if you will go with
us to Fairy-Land, and learn what we can teach you.”
“Gladly would I go with you, dear Fairies,” said Eva, “but I cannot
sail in your little boat. See! I can hold you in my hand, and could not
live among you without harming your tiny kingdom, I am so large.”
Then the Elves laughed gayly, as they folded their arms about her,
saying, “You are a good child, dear Eva, to fear doing harm to those
weaker than yourself. You cannot hurt us now. Look in the water and see
what we have done.”
Eva looked into the brook, and saw a tiny child standing between the
Elves. “Now I can go with you,” said she, “but see, I can no longer
step from the bank to yonder stone, for the brook seems now like a
great river, and you have not given me wings like yours.”
But the Fairies took each a hand, and flew lightly over the stream. The
Queen and her subjects came to meet her, and all seemed glad to say
some kindly word of welcome to the little stranger. They placed a
flower-crown upon her head, laid their soft faces against her own, and
soon it seemed as if the gentle Elves had always been her friends.
“Now must we go home,” said the Queen, “and you shall go with us,
little one.”
Then there was a great bustle, as they flew about on shining wings,
some laying cushions of violet leaves in the boat, others folding the
Queen’s veil and mantle more closely round her, lest the falling dews
should chill her.
The cool waves’ gentle plashing against the boat, and the sweet chime
of the lily-bells, lulled little Eva to sleep, and when she woke it was
in Fairy-Land. A faint, rosy light, as of the setting sun, shone on the
white pillars of the Queen’s palace as they passed in, and the sleeping
flowers leaned gracefully on their stems, dreaming beneath their soft
green curtains. All was cool and still, and the Elves glided silently
about, lest they should break their slumbers. They led Eva to a bed of
pure white leaves, above which drooped the fragrant petals of a crimson
rose.
“You can look at the bright colors till the light fades, and then the
rose will sing you to sleep,” said the Elves, as they folded the soft
leaves about her, gently kissed her, and stole away.
Long she lay watching the bright shadows, and listening to the song of
the rose, while through the long night dreams of lovely things floated
like bright clouds through her mind; while the rose bent lovingly above
her, and sang in the clear moonlight.
With the sun rose the Fairies, and, with Eva, hastened away to the
fountain, whose cool waters were soon filled with little forms, and the
air ringing with happy voices, as the Elves floated in the blue waves
among the fair white lilies, or sat on the green moss, smoothing their
bright locks, and wearing fresh garlands of dewy flowers. At length the
Queen came forth, and her subjects gathered round her, and while the
flowers bowed their heads, and the trees hushed their rustling, the
Fairies sang their morning hymn to the Father of birds and blossoms,
who had made the earth so fair a home for them.
Then they flew away to the gardens, and soon, high up among the
tree-tops, or under the broad leaves, sat the Elves in little groups,
taking their breakfast of fruit and pure fresh dew; while the
bright-winged birds came fearlessly among them, pecking the same ripe
berries, and dipping their little beaks in the same flower-cups, and
the Fairies folded their arms lovingly about them, smoothed their soft
bosoms, and gayly sang to them.
“Now, little Eva,” said they, “you will see that Fairies are not idle,
wilful Spirits, as mortals believe. Come, we will show you what we do.”
They led her to a lovely room, through whose walls of deep green leaves
the light stole softly in. Here lay many wounded insects, and harmless
little creatures, whom cruel hands had hurt; and pale, drooping flowers
grew beside urns of healing herbs, from whose fresh leaves came a
faint, sweet perfume.
Eva wondered, but silently followed her guide, little Rose-Leaf, who
with tender words passed among the delicate blossoms, pouring dew on
their feeble roots, cheering them with her loving words and happy
smile.
Then she went to the insects; first to a little fly who lay in a
flower-leaf cradle.
“Do you suffer much, dear Gauzy-Wing?” asked the Fairy. “I will bind up
your poor little leg, and Zephyr shall rock you to sleep.” So she
folded the cool leaves tenderly about the poor fly, bathed his wings,
and brought him refreshing drink, while he hummed his thanks, and
forgot his pain, as Zephyr softly sung and fanned him with her waving
wings.
They passed on, and Eva saw beside each bed a Fairy, who with gentle
hands and loving words soothed the suffering insects. At length they
stopped beside a bee, who lay among sweet honeysuckle flowers, in a
cool, still place, where the summer wind blew in, and the green leaves
rustled pleasantly. Yet he seemed to find no rest, and murmured of the
pain he was doomed to bear. “Why must I lie here, while my kindred are
out in the pleasant fields, enjoying the sunlight and the fresh air,
and cruel hands have doomed me to this dark place and bitter pain when
I have done no wrong? Uncared for and forgotten, I must stay here among
these poor things who think only of themselves. Come here, Rose-Leaf,
and bind up my wounds, for I am far more useful than idle bird or fly.”