“If Rose-Leaf is his friend, surely we may be; yet still I fear he may
soon grow weary of this gentleness, and be again the wicked Fairy he
once was, and we shall suffer for our kindness to him now.”
“Ah, do not doubt him!” cried warm-hearted little Mignonette; “surely
some good spirit has changed the wicked Thistle into this good little
Elf. See how tenderly he lifts aside the leaves that overshadow pale
Harebell, and listen now how softly he sings as he rocks little
Eglantine to sleep. He has done many friendly things, though none save
Rose-Leaf has been kind to him, and he is very sad. Last night when I
awoke to draw my curtains closer, he sat weeping in the moonlight, so
bitterly, I longed to speak a kindly word to him. Dear sisters, let us
trust him.”
And they all said little Mignonette was right; and, spreading wide
their leaves, they bade him come, and drink their dew, and lie among
the fragrant petals, striving to cheer his sorrow. Thistle told them
all, and, after much whispering together, they said,—
“Yes, we will help you to find the Earth Spirits, for you are striving
to be good, and for love of Lily-Bell we will do much for you.”
So they called a little bright-eyed mole, and said, “Downy-Back, we
have given you a pleasant home among our roots, and you are a grateful
little friend; so will you guide dear Thistle to the Earth Spirits’
home?”
Downy-Back said, “Yes,” and Thistle, thanking the kindly flowers,
followed his little guide, through long, dark galleries, deeper and
deeper into the ground; while a glow-worm flew before to light the way.
On they went, and after a while, reached a path lit up by bright jewels
hung upon the walls. Here Downy-Back, and Glimmer, the glow-worm, left
him, saying,—
“We can lead you no farther; you must now go on alone, and the music of
the Spirits will guide you to their home.”
Then they went quickly up the winding path, and Thistle, guided by the
sweet music, went on alone.
He soon reached a lovely spot, whose golden halls were bright with
jewels, which sparkled brightly, and threw many-colored shadows on the
shining garments of the little Spirits, who danced below to the melody
of soft, silvery bells.
Long Thistle stood watching the brilliant forms that flashed and
sparkled round him; but he missed the flowers and the sunlight, and
rejoiced that he was not an Earth Spirit.
At last they spied him out, and, gladly welcoming him, bade him join in
their dance. But Thistledown was too sad for that, and when he told
them all his story they no longer urged, but sought to comfort him; and
one whom they called little Sparkle (for her crown and robe shone with
the brightest diamonds), said: “You will have to work for us, ere you
can win a gift to show the Brownies; do you see those golden bells that
make such music, as we wave them to and fro? We worked long and hard
ere they were won, and you can win one of those, if you will do the
task we give you.”
And Thistle said, “No task will be too hard for me to do for dear
Lily-Bell’s sake.”
Then they led him to a strange, dark place, lit up with torches; where
troops of Spirits flew busily to and fro, among damp rocks, and through
dark galleries that led far down into the earth. “What do they here?”
asked Thistle.
“I will tell,” replied little Sparkle, “for I once worked here myself.
Some of them watch above the flower-roots, and keep them fresh and
strong; others gather the clear drops that trickle from the damp rocks,
and form a little spring, which, growing ever larger, rises to the
light above, and gushes forth in some green field or lonely forest;
where the wild-birds come to drink, and wood-flowers spread their
thirsty leaves above the clear, cool waves, as they go dancing away,
carrying joy and freshness wherever they go. Others shape the bright
jewels into lovely forms, and make the good-luck pennies which we give
to mortals whom we love. And here you must toil till the golden flower
is won.”
Then Thistle went among the Spirits, and joined in their tasks; he
tended the flower-roots, gathered the water-drops, and formed the
good-luck pennies. Long and hard he worked, and was often sad and
weary, often tempted by unkind and selfish thoughts; but he thought of
Lily-Bell, and strove to be kind and loving as she had been; and soon
the Spirits learned to love the patient Fairy, who had left his home to
toil among them for the sake of his gentle friend.
At length came little Sparkle to him, saying, “You have done enough;
come now, and dance and feast with us, for the golden flower is won.”
But Thistle could not stay, for half his task was not yet done; and he
longed for sunlight and Lily-Bell. So, taking a kind farewell, he
hastened through the torch-lit path up to the light again; and,
spreading his wings, flew over hill and dale till he reached the forest
where Lily-Bell lay sleeping.
It was early morning, and the rosy light shone brightly through the
lily-leaves upon her, as Thistle entered, and laid his first gift at
the Brownie King’s feet.
“You have done well,” said he, “we hear good tidings of you from bird
and flower, and you are truly seeking to repair the evil you have done.
Take now one look at your little friend, and then go forth to seek from
the Air Spirits your second gift.”
Then Thistle said farewell again to Lily-Bell, and flew far and wide
among the clouds, seeking the Air Spirits; but though he wandered till
his weary wings could bear him no longer, it was in vain. So, faint and
sad, he lay down to rest on a broad vine-leaf, that fluttered gently in
the wind; and as he lay, he saw beneath him the home of the kind bees
whom he had so disturbed, and Lily-Bell had helped and comforted.
“I will seek to win their pardon, and show them that I am no longer the
cruel Fairy who so harmed them,” thought Thistle, “and when they become
again my friends, I will ask their help to find the Air Spirits; and if
I deserve it, they will gladly aid me on my way.”
So he flew down into the field below, and hastened busily from flower
to flower, till he had filled a tiny blue-bell with sweet, fresh honey.
Then he stole softly to the hive, and, placing it near the door,
concealed himself to watch. Soon his friend Nimble-Wing came flying
home, and when he spied the little cup, he hummed with joy, and called
his companions around him.
“Surely, some good Elf has placed it here for us,” said they; “let us
bear it to our Queen; it is so fresh and fragrant it will be a fit gift
for her”; and they joyfully took it in, little dreaming who had placed
it there.
So each day Thistle filled a flower-cup, and laid it at the door; and
each day the bees wondered more and more, for many strange things
happened. The field-flowers told of the good spirit who watched above
them, and the birds sang of the same kind little Elf bringing soft moss
for their nests, and food for their hungry young ones; while all around
the hive had grown fairer since the Fairy came.
But the bees never saw him, for he feared he had not yet done enough to
win their forgiveness and friendship; so he lived alone among the
vines, daily bringing them honey, and doing some kindly action.
At length, as he lay sleeping in a flower-bell, a little bee came
wandering by, and knew him for the wicked Thistle; so he called his
friends, and, as they flew murmuring around him, he awoke.
“What shall we do to you, naughty Elf?” said they. “You are in our
power, and we will sting you if you are not still.”
“Let us close the flower-leaves around him and leave him here to
starve,” cried one, who had not yet forgotten all the sorrow Thistle
had caused them long ago.
“No, no, that were very cruel, dear Buzz,” said little Hum; “let us
take him to our Queen, and she will tell us how to show our anger for
the wicked deeds he did. See how bitterly he weeps; be kind to him, he
will not harm us more.”
“You good little Hum!” cried a kind-hearted robin who had hopped near
to listen to the bees. “Dear friends, do you not know that this is the
good Fairy who has dwelt so quietly among us, watching over bird and
blossom, giving joy to all he helps? It is HE who brings the honey-cup
each day to you, and then goes silently away, that you may never know
who works so faithfully for you. Be kind to him, for if he has done
wrong, he has repented of it, as you may see.”
“Can this be naughty Thistle?” said Nimble-Wing.
“Yes, it is I,” said Thistle, “but no longer cruel and unkind. I have
tried to win your love by patient industry. Ah, trust me now, and you
shall see I am not naughty Thistle any more.”
Then the wondering bees led him to their Queen, and when he had told
his tale, and begged their forgiveness, it was gladly given; and all
strove to show him that he was loved and trusted. Then he asked if they
could tell him where the Air Spirits dwelt, for he must not forget dear
Lily-Bell; and to his great joy the Queen said, “Yes,” and bade little
Hum guide Thistle to Cloud-Land.
Little Hum joyfully obeyed; and Thistle followed him, as he flew higher
and higher among the soft clouds, till in the distance they saw a
radiant light.
“There is their home, and I must leave you now, dear Thistle,” said the
little bee; and, bidding him farewell, he flew singing back; while
Thistle, following the light, soon found himself in the Air Spirits’
home.
The sky was gold and purple like an autumn sunset, and long walls of
brilliant clouds lay round him. A rosy light shone through the silver
mist, on gleaming columns and the rainbow roof; soft, fragrant winds
went whispering by, and airy little forms were flitting to and fro.
Long Thistle wondered at the beauty round him; and then he went among
the shining Spirits, told his tale, and asked a gift.
But they answered like the Earth Spirits. “You must serve us first, and
then we will gladly give you a robe of sunlight like our own.”
And then they told him how they wafted flower-seeds over the earth, to
beautify and brighten lonely spots; how they watched above the blossoms
by day, and scattered dews at night, brought sunlight into darkened
places, and soft winds to refresh and cheer.
“These are the things we do,” said they, “and you must aid us for a
time.”
And Thistle gladly went with the lovely Spirits; by day he joined the
sunlight and the breeze in their silent work; by night, with Star-Light
and her sister spirits, he flew over the moon-lit earth, dropping cool
dew upon the folded flowers, and bringing happy dreams to sleeping
mortals. Many a kind deed was done, many a gentle word was spoken; and
each day lighter grew his heart, and stronger his power of giving joy
to others.
At length Star-Light bade him work no more, and gladly gave him the
gift he had won. Then his second task was done, and he flew gayly back
to the green earth and slumbering Lily-Bell.
The silvery moonlight shone upon her, as he came to give his second
gift; and the Brownie spoke more kindly than before.
“One more trial, Thistle, and she will awake. Go bravely forth and win
your last and hardest gift.”
Then with a light heart Thistle journeyed away to the brooks and
rivers, seeking the Water Spirits. But he looked in vain; till,
wandering through the forest where the Brownies took him captive, he
stopped beside the quiet lake.
As he stood here he heard a sound of pain, and, looking in the tall
grass at his side, he saw the dragon-fly whose kindness he once repayed
by pain and sorrow, and who now lay suffering and alone.
Thistle bent tenderly beside him, saying, “Dear Flutter, do not fear
me. I will gladly ease your pain, if you will let me; I am your friend,
and long to show you how I grieve for all the wrong I did you, when you
were so kind to me. Forgive, and let me help and comfort you.”
Then he bound up the broken wing, and spoke so tenderly that Flutter
doubted him no longer, and was his friend again.
Day by day did Thistle watch beside him, making little beds of cool,
fresh moss for him to rest upon, fanning him when he slept, and singing
sweet songs to cheer him when awake. And often when poor Flutter longed
to be dancing once again over the blue waves, the Fairy bore him in his
arms to the lake, and on a broad leaf, with a green flag for a sail,
they floated on the still water; while the dragon-fly’s companions flew
about them, playing merry games.
At length the broken wing was well, and Thistle said he must again seek
the Water Spirits. “I can tell you where to find them,” said Flutter;
“you must follow yonder little brook, and it will lead you to the sea,
where the Spirits dwell. I would gladly do more for you, dear Thistle,
but I cannot, for they live deep beneath the waves. You will find some
kind friend to aid you on your way; and so farewell.”
Thistle followed the little brook, as it flowed through field and
valley, growing ever larger, till it reached the sea. Here the wind
blew freshly, and the great waves rolled and broke at Thistle’s feet,
as he stood upon the shore, watching the billows dancing and sparkling
in the sun.
“How shall I find the Spirits in this great sea, with none to help or
guide me? Yet it is my last task, and for Lily-Bell’s sake I must not
fear or falter now,” said Thistle. So he flew hither and thither over
the sea, looking through the waves. Soon he saw, far below, the
branches of the coral tree.
“They must be here,” thought he, and, folding his wings, he plunged
into the deep, cold sea. But he saw only fearful monsters and dark
shapes that gathered round him; and, trembling with fear, he struggled
up again.
The great waves tossed him to and fro, and cast him bruised and faint
upon the shore. Here he lay weeping bitterly, till a voice beside him
said, “Poor little Elf, what has befallen you? These rough waves are
not fit playmates for so delicate a thing as you. Tell me your sorrow,
and I will comfort you.”
And Thistle, looking up, saw a white sea-bird at his side, who tried
with friendly words to cheer him. So he told all his wanderings, and
how he sought the Sea Spirits.
“Surely, if bee and blossom do their part to help you, birds should aid
you too,” said the Sea-bird. “I will call my friend, the Nautilus, and
he will bear you safely to the Coral Palace where the Spirits dwell.”
So, spreading his great wings, he flew away, and soon Thistle saw a
little boat come dancing over the waves, and wait beside the shore for
him.
In he sprang. Nautilus raised his little sail to the wind, and the
light boat glided swiftly over the blue sea. At last Thistle cried, “I
see lovely arches far below; let me go, it is the Spirits’ home.”
“Nay, close your eyes, and trust to me. I will bear you safely down,”
said Nautilus.
So Thistle closed his eyes, and listened to the murmur of the sea, as
they sank slowly through the waves. The soft sound lulled him to sleep,
and when he awoke the boat was gone, and he stood among the Water
Spirits, in their strange and lovely home.
Lofty arches of snow-white coral bent above him, and the walls of
brightly tinted shells were wreathed with lovely sea-flowers, and the
sunlight shining on the waves cast silvery shadows on the ground, where
sparkling stones glowed in the sand. A cool, fresh wind swept through
the waving garlands of bright sea-moss, and the distant murmur of
dashing waves came softly on the air. Soon troops of graceful Spirits
flitted by, and when they found the wondering Elf, they gathered round
him, bringing pearl-shells heaped with precious stones, and all the
rare, strange gifts that lie beneath the sea. But Thistle wished for
none of these, and when his tale was told, the kindly Spirits pitied
him; and little Pearl sighed, as she told him of the long and weary
task he must perform, ere he could win a crown of snow-white pearls
like those they wore. But Thistle had gained strength and courage in
his wanderings, and did not falter now, when they led him to a place
among the coral-workers, and told him he must labor here, till the
spreading branches reached the light and air, through the waves that
danced above.
With a patient hope that he might yet be worthy of Lily-Bell, the Fairy
left the lovely spirits and their pleasant home, to toil among the
coral-builders, where all was strange and dim. Long, long, he worked;
but still the waves rolled far above them, and his task was not yet
done; and many bitter tears poor Thistle shed, and sadly he pined for
air and sunlight, the voice of birds, and breath of flowers. Often,
folded in the magic garments which the Spirits gave him, that he might
pass unharmed among the fearful creatures dwelling there, he rose to
the surface of the sea, and, gliding through the waves, gazed longingly
upon the hills, now looking blue and dim so far away, or watched the
flocks of summer birds, journeying to a warmer land; and they brought
sad memories of green old forests, and sunny fields, to the lonely
little Fairy floating on the great, wild sea.
Day after day went by, and slowly Thistle’s task drew towards an end.
Busily toiled the coral-workers, but more busily toiled he; insect and
Spirit daily wondered more and more, at the industry and patience of
the silent little Elf, who had a friendly word for all, though he never
joined them in their sport.
Higher and higher grew the coral-boughs, and lighter grew the Fairy’s
heart, while thoughts of dear Lily-Bell cheered him on, as day by day
he steadily toiled; and when at length the sun shone on his work, and
it was done, he stayed but to take the garland he had won, and to thank
the good Spirits for their love and care. Then up through the cold,
blue waves he swiftly glided, and, shaking the bright drops from his
wings, soared singing up to the sunny sky.
On through the fragrant air went Thistle, looking with glad face upon
the fair, fresh earth below, where flowers looked smiling up, and green
trees bowed their graceful heads as if to welcome him. Soon the forest
where Lily-Bell lay sleeping rose before him, and as he passed along
the cool, dim wood-paths, never had they seemed so fair.
But when he came where his little friend had slept, it was no longer
the dark, silent spot where he last saw her. Garlands hung from every
tree, and the fairest flowers filled the air with their sweet breath.
Bird’s gay voices echoed far and wide, and the little brook went
singing by, beneath the arching ferns that bent above it; green leaves
rustled in the summer wind, and the air was full of music. But the
fairest sight was Lily-Bell, as she lay on the couch of velvet moss
that Fairy hands had spread. The golden flower lay beside her, and the
glittering robe was folded round her little form. The warmest sunlight
fell upon her, and the softest breezes lifted her shining hair.
Happy tears fell fast, as Thistle folded his arms around her, crying,
“O Lily-Bell, dear Lily-Bell, awake! I have been true to you, and now
my task is done.”
Then, with a smile, Lily-Bell awoke, and looked with wondering eyes
upon the beauty that had risen round her.
“Dear Thistle, what mean these fair things, and why are we in this
lovely place?”
“Listen, Lily-Bell,” said the Brownie King, as he appeared beside her.
And then he told all that Thistle had done to show his love for her;
how he had wandered far and wide to seek the Fairy gifts, and toiled
long and hard to win them; how he had been loving, true, and tender,
when most lonely and forsaken.
“Bird, bee, and blossom have forgiven him, and none is more loved and
trusted now by all, than the once cruel Thistle,” said the King, as he
bent down to the happy Elf, who bowed low before him.
“You have learned the beauty of a gentle, kindly heart, dear Thistle;
and you are now worthy to become the friend of her for whom you have
done so much. Place the crown upon her head, for she is Queen of all
the Forest Fairies now.”
And as the crown shone on the head that Lily-Bell bent down on
Thistle’s breast, the forest seemed alive with little forms, who sprang
from flower and leaf, and gathered round her, bringing gifts for their
new Queen.
“If I am Queen, then you are King, dear Thistle,” said the Fairy. “Take
the crown, and I will have a wreath of flowers. You have toiled and
suffered for my sake, and you alone should rule over these little Elves
whose love you have won.”
“Keep your crown, Lily-Bell, for yonder come the Spirits with their
gifts to Thistle,” said the Brownie. And, as he pointed with his wand,
out from among the mossy roots of an old tree came trooping the Earth
Spirits, their flower-bells ringing softly as they came, and their
jewelled garments glittering in the sun. On to where Thistledown stood
beneath the shadow of the flowers, with Lily-Bell beside him, went the
Spirits; and then forth sprang little Sparkle, waving a golden flower,
whose silvery music filled the air. “Dear Thistle,” said the shining
Spirit, “what you toiled so faithfully to win for another, let us offer
now as a token of our love for you.”
As she ceased, down through the air came floating bands of lovely Air
Spirits, bringing a shining robe, and they too told their love for the
gentle Fairy who had dwelt with them.
Then softly on the breeze came distant music, growing ever nearer, till
over the rippling waves came the singing Water Spirits, in their boats
of many-colored shells; and as they placed their glittering crown on
Thistle’s head, loud rang the flowers, and joyously sang the birds,
while all the Forest Fairies cried, with silvery voices, “Lily-Bell and
Thistledown! Long live our King and Queen!”
“Have you a tale for us too, dear Violet-Eye?” said the Queen, as
Zephyr ceased. The little Elf thus named looked from among the
flower-leaves where she sat, and with a smile replied, “As I was
weaving garlands in the field, I heard a primrose tell this tale to her
friend Golden-Rod.”