“Thistledown, we took you in, a friendless stranger, fed and clothed
you, and made our home as pleasant to you as we could; and in return
for all our care, you have brought discontent and trouble to my
subjects, grief and care to me. I cannot let my peaceful kingdom be
disturbed by you; therefore go and seek another home. You may find
other friends, but none will love you more than we, had you been worthy
of it; so farewell.” And the doors of the once happy home he had
disturbed were closed behind him.
Then he was very angry, and determined to bring some great sorrow on
the good Queen. So he sought out the idle, wilful bees, whom he had
first made discontented, bidding them follow him, and win the honey the
Queen had stored up for the winter.
“Let us feast and make merry in the pleasant summer-time,” said
Thistle; “winter is far off, why should we waste these lovely days,
toiling to lay up the food we might enjoy now. Come, we will take what
we have made, and think no more of what the Queen has said.”
So while the industrious bees were out among the flowers, he led the
drones to the hive, and took possession of the honey, destroying and
laying waste the home of the kind bees; then, fearing that in their
grief and anger they might harm him, Thistle flew away to seek new
friends.
After many wanderings, he came at length to a great forest, and here
beside a still lake he stayed to rest. Delicate wood-flowers grew near
him in the deep green moss, with drooping heads, as if they listened to
the soft wind singing among the pines. Bright-eyed birds peeped at him
from their nests, and many-colored insects danced above the cool, still
lake.
“This is a pleasant place,” said Thistle; “it shall be my home for a
while. Come hither, blue dragon-fly, I would gladly make a friend of
you, for I am all alone.”
The dragon-fly folded his shining wings beside the Elf, listened to the
tale he told, promised to befriend the lonely one, and strove to make
the forest a happy home to him.
So here dwelt Thistle, and many kind friends gathered round him, for he
spoke gently to them, and they knew nothing of the cruel deeds he had
done; and for a while he was happy and content. But at length he grew
weary of the gentle birds, and wild-flowers, and sought new pleasure in
destroying the beauty he was tired of; and soon the friends who had so
kindly welcomed him looked upon him as an evil spirit, and shrunk away
as he approached.
At length his friend the dragon-fly besought him to leave the quiet
home he had disturbed. Then Thistle was very angry, and while the
dragon-fly was sleeping among the flowers that hung over the lake, he
led an ugly spider to the spot, and bade him weave his nets about the
sleeping insect, and bind him fast. The cruel spider gladly obeyed the
ungrateful Fairy; and soon the poor fly could move neither leg nor
wing. Then Thistle flew away through the wood, leaving sorrow and
trouble behind him.
He had not journeyed far before he grew weary, and lay down to rest.
Long he slept, and when he awoke, and tried to rise, his hands and
wings were bound; while beside him stood two strange little figures,
with dark faces and garments, that rustled like withered leaves; who
cried to him, as he struggled to get free,—
“Lie still, you naughty Fairy, you are in the Brownies’ power, and
shall be well punished for your cruelty ere we let you go.”
So poor Thistle lay sorrowfully, wondering what would come of it, and
wishing Lily-Bell would come to help and comfort him; but he had left
her, and she could not help him now.
Soon a troop of Brownies came rustling through the air, and gathered
round him, while one who wore an acorn-cup on his head, and was their
King, said, as he stood beside the trembling Fairy,—
“You have done many cruel things, and caused much sorrow to happy
hearts; now you are in my power, and I shall keep you prisoner till you
have repented. You cannot dwell on the earth without harming the fair
things given you to enjoy, so you shall live alone in solitude and
darkness, till you have learned to find happiness in gentle deeds, and
forget yourself in giving joy to others. When you have learned this, I
will set you free.”
Then the Brownies bore him to a high, dark rock, and, entering a little
door, led him to a small cell, dimly lighted by a crevice through which
came a single gleam of sunlight; and there, through long, long days,
poor Thistle sat alone, and gazed with wistful eyes at the little
opening, longing to be out on the green earth. No one came to him, but
the silent Brownies who brought his daily food; and with bitter tears
he wept for Lily-Bell, mourning his cruelty and selfishness, seeking to
do some kindly deed that might atone for his wrong-doing.
A little vine that grew outside his prison rock came creeping up, and
looked in through the crevice, as if to cheer the lonely Fairy, who
welcomed it most gladly, and daily sprinkled its soft leaves with his
small share of water, that the little vine might live, even if it
darkened more and more his dim cell.
The watchful Brownies saw this kind deed, and brought him fresh
flowers, and many things, which Thistle gratefully received, though he
never knew it was his kindness to the vine that gained for him these
pleasures.
Thus did poor Thistle strive to be more gentle and unselfish, and grew
daily happier and better.
Now while Thistledown was a captive in the lonely cell, Lily-Bell was
seeking him far and wide, and sadly traced him by the sorrowing hearts
he had left behind.
She healed the drooping flowers, cheered the Queen Bee’s grief, brought
back her discontented subjects, restored the home to peace and order,
and left them blessing her.
Thus she journeyed on, till she reached the forest where Thistledown
had lost his freedom. She unbound the starving dragon-fly, and tended
the wounded birds; but though all learned to love her, none could tell
where the Brownies had borne her friend, till a little wind came
whispering by, and told her that a sweet voice had been heard, singing
Fairy songs, deep in a moss-grown rock.
Then Lily-Bell went seeking through the forest, listening for the
voice. Long she looked and listened in vain; when one day, as she was
wandering through a lonely dell, she heard a faint, low sound of music,
and soon a distant voice mournfully singing,—
“Bright shines the summer sun,
Soft is the summer air;
Gayly the wood-birds sing,
Flowers are blooming fair.
“But, deep in the dark, cold rock,
Sadly I dwell,
Longing for thee, dear friend,
Lily-Bell! Lily-Bell!”
“Thistle, dear Thistle, where are you?” joyfully cried Lily-Bell, as
she flew from rock to rock. But the voice was still, and she would have
looked in vain, had she not seen a little vine, whose green leaves
fluttering to and fro seemed beckoning her to come; and as she stood
among its flowers she sang,—
“Through sunlight and summer air
I have sought for thee long,
Guided by birds and flowers,
And now by thy song.
“Thistledown! Thistledown!
O’er hill and dell
Hither to comfort thee
Comes Lily-Bell.”
Then from the vine-leaves two little arms were stretched out to her,
and Thistledown was found. So Lily-Bell made her home in the shadow of
the vine, and brought such joy to Thistle, that his lonely cell seemed
pleasanter to him than all the world beside; and he grew daily more
like his gentle friend. But it did not last long, for one day she did
not come. He watched and waited long, for the little face that used to
peep smiling in through the vine-leaves. He called and beckoned through
the narrow opening, but no Lily-Bell answered; and he wept sadly as he
thought of all she had done for him, and that now he could not go to
seek and help her, for he had lost his freedom by his own cruel and
wicked deeds.
At last he besought the silent Brownie earnestly to tell him whither
she had gone.
“O let me go to her,” prayed Thistle; “if she is in sorrow, I will
comfort her, and show my gratitude for all she has done for me: dear
Brownie, set me free, and when she is found I will come and be your
prisoner again. I will bear and suffer any danger for her sake.”
“Lily-Bell is safe,” replied the Brownie; “come, you shall learn the
trial that awaits you.”
Then he led the wondering Fairy from his prison, to a group of tall,
drooping ferns, beneath whose shade a large white lily had been placed,
forming a little tent, within which, on a couch of thick green moss,
lay Lily-Bell in a deep sleep; the sunlight stole softly in, and all
was cool and still.
“You cannot wake her,” said the Brownie, as Thistle folded his arms
tenderly about her. “It is a magic slumber, and she will not wake till
you shall bring hither gifts from the Earth, Air, and Water Spirits. ’T
is a long and weary task, for you have made no friends to help you, and
will have to seek for them alone. This is the trial we shall give you;
and if your love for Lily-Bell be strong enough to keep you from all
cruelty and selfishness, and make you kind and loving as you should be,
she will awake to welcome you, and love you still more fondly than
before.”
Then Thistle, with a last look on the little friend he loved so well,
set forth alone to his long task.
The home of the Earth Spirits was the first to find, and no one would
tell him where to look. So far and wide he wandered, through gloomy
forests and among lonely hills, with none to cheer him when sad and
weary, none to guide him on his way.
On he went, thinking of Lily-Bell, and for her sake bearing all; for in
his quiet prison many gentle feelings and kindly thoughts had sprung up
in his heart, and he now strove to be friends with all, and win for
himself the love and confidence of those whom once he sought to harm
and cruelly destroy.
But few believed him; for they remembered his false promises and evil
deeds, and would not trust him now; so poor Thistle found few to love
or care for him.
Long he wandered, and carefully he sought; but could not find the Earth
Spirits’ home. And when at length he reached the pleasant garden where
he and Lily-Bell first parted, he said within himself,—
“Here I will stay awhile, and try to win by kindly deeds the flowers’
forgiveness for the pain and sorrow I brought them long ago; and they
may learn to love and trust me. So, even if I never find the Spirits, I
shall be worthier of Lily-Bell’s affection if I strive to atone for the
wrong I have done.”
Then he went among the flowers, but they closed their leaves, and
shrank away, trembling with fear; while the birds fled to hide among
the leaves as he passed.
This grieved poor Thistle, and he longed to tell them how changed he
had become; but they would not listen. So he tried to show, by quiet
deeds of kindness, that he meant no harm to them; and soon the
kind-hearted birds pitied the lonely Fairy, and when he came near sang
cheering songs, and dropped ripe berries in his path, for he no longer
broke their eggs, or hurt their little ones.
And when the flowers saw this, and found the once cruel Elf now
watering and tending little buds, feeding hungry insects, and helping
the busy ants to bear their heavy loads, they shared the pity of the
birds, and longed to trust him; but they dared not yet.
He came one day, while wandering through the garden, to the little rose
he had once harmed so sadly. Many buds now bloomed beside her, and her
soft face glowed with motherly pride, as she bent fondly over them. But
when Thistle came, he saw with sorrow how she bade them close their
green curtains, and conceal themselves beneath the leaves, for there
was danger near; and, drooping still more closely over them, she seemed
to wait with trembling fear the cruel Fairy’s coming.
But no rude hand tore her little ones away, no unkind words were
spoken; but a soft shower of dew fell lightly on them, and Thistle,
bending tenderly above them, said,—
“Dear flower, forgive the sorrow I once brought you, and trust me now
for Lily-Bell’s sake. Her gentleness has changed my cruelty to
kindness, and I would gladly repay all for the harm I have done; but
none will love and trust me now.”
Then the little rose looked up, and while the dew-drops shone like
happy tears upon her leaves, she said,—
“I WILL love and trust you, Thistle, for you are indeed much changed.
Make your home among us, and my sister flowers will soon learn to love
you as you deserve. Not for sweet Lily-Bell’s sake, but for your own,
will I become your friend; for you are kind and gentle now, and worthy
of our love. Look up, my little ones, there is no danger near; look up,
and welcome Thistle to our home.”
Then the little buds raised their rosy faces, danced again upon their
stems, and nodded kindly at Thistle, who smiled on them through happy
tears, and kissed the sweet, forgiving rose, who loved and trusted him
when most forlorn and friendless.