softly. ‘We do so enjoy being liked,’ said the little bud which had grown
the most. ‘We love to be encouraged—helped along.’
“‘But how can any one help a bud?’ asked a Fairy who happened along then.
“‘The Sun encourages us by shining and smiling at us. The South Wind
whispers secrets to us and we are helped so much by the secrets—for
the South Wind tells us such lovely things. And she promises us more
sunshine, more warmth, more brightness. And then there are the Clouds
and their promises. They tell us they will not forget about the April
showers. They never have, and I don’t believe they ever will.’
“‘And,’ the bud continued, ‘it is so glorious to burst into bud and bloom
again after a long winter when the branches of the tree are bare that we
like to do it slowly and enjoy every second of it. Besides, the tree has
been so used to being lonely that it would be too much of a shock if we
came forth all at once. We just peep forth first of all and tell the tree
that we are coming, for spring is here.’
“‘Ah, how young I feel,’ said a very little bud.
“‘We all feel so young, too,’ said the other buds.
“‘You are all wonderfully young,’ said the Fairy. ‘You are buds,
wonderful spring buds, and you’ll soon be leaves!’
“The buds came forth a little more and smiled gently at the Fairy to show
her how pleased they were at the kind things she was saying to them, and
when they smiled a little more green showed.
“The grown-ups that day said, ‘How far the buds came out to-day. They’ll
soon be leaves if they keep coming out at this rate.’
“But the little Fairy knew the secrets of the buds.”
APRIL 3: The Clock and the Watch
“Now when I say,” the watch began, “that I have to hurry and catch up—or
rather try to catch up—I mean that my master has a foolish way of trying
to hurry me up at the last moment. He waits and fusses and wastes his
time, and then he wonders how he can reach somewhere on time—reaching
there almost before he starts if he wants to be on time. Then I hurry
and try to catch up to him as he seems in such a rush. And the trouble
is I’m way ahead of the time he wants me to be. I try to keep up with
his hurrying—for after he has wasted a great deal of time he does try to
hurry. In fact he runs around all day trying to catch up with himself,
and I run around with him. But it’s of no use. He tried putting me way
ahead of time one day not long ago, but it was senseless when I disagreed
with every other watch, and every one said to my master, ‘Your watch is
fast.’ We watches must agree, you know, and so I just get nervous trying
to catch up with the lost moments for my master, and the only thing, I
think, for him to do is to expect less of me and to start off everything
ON TIME!”
APRIL 4: Billie’s Springtime
“I’d like to tell my story,” said Billie to the Fairy Wondrous Secrets.
“People are always wondering what babies think about and what they are
planning to do when they grow up—if they are planning to do anything or
not. They wonder so much about us, and so I’d like to tell my story. I
don’t know about other babies. But I would like to tell about myself, if
no one minds.”
“I’d like to hear,” said the Fairy Wondrous Secrets.
Now Billie was in a baby-carriage which was out on the front porch of a
little house in the country. Billie’s mother was busy and so was Billie’s
daddy, but Billie, they knew, was quite safe in the carriage on the porch
where the soft spring air was blowing.
No one was around but the Fairy Wondrous Secrets and if any one had come
around the Fairy Wondrous Secrets would have vanished quickly.
“I’m really a little girl,” Billie began, “though my name is something
like a boy’s name, I believe. You see my great big daddy’s name is Bill
and my mother wanted to name me after him. She couldn’t have my real name
Billie, but she had every one call me that, so it’s my daytime every-day
name, and my best, dress-up name is Mary Ann, or Marion or some such fine
name after my mother.
“I came to the world in December,” said Billie. “You see, Fairy, I
thought it would be fun to arrive in the world when everything was so
exciting. Christmas was coming on and it was very gay and merry.
“I’ve had a nice winter, but now is the best time I’ve known, for it’s
springtime. And I’ll tell you, Fairy Wondrous Secrets, I feel as though
it were all my own springtime.
“I feel the soft, warm wind blow over my little pink cheeks which every
one admires so much and I smile and I croon and I make soft little
singing sounds as the trees do. And I look around to smile at the trees
and the bushes, too, and to let them see my blue eyes. I ask them if they
think my eyes look like the blue sky, for the bushes and the trees are
always looking up at the sky, so they should surely know.
“I can see the yellow forsythia upon the bushes, and how gay and lovely
it is. The lilacs are in bud, and there are white blossoms on the bushes.
Back of our house there are some waterfalls and they laugh and gurgle as
they dash over the rocks, something the way I laugh and gurgle.
“I believe it is their way of kicking with fun. I kick with fun when my
mother puts me in the wash-basin every morning. The wash-basin, Fairy
Wondrous Secrets, is my bathtub, and I splash and kick and laugh and have
such a good time! I don’t care if the water spills over the floor any
more than I imagine the waterfalls care that they spill water over the
rocks. They enjoy it! So do I!
“I can see the ducks and hear them quack, quack. I hear that sometimes
they lay seven eggs a day. The chickens and the hens and the roosters
walk about and chatter, and one day a lady passed and said ‘Hello,’ to
a chicken and the chicken got up from the ground most politely as a
mannerly person would do, I’m told.
“The pussy-willows are out and the skunk-cabbage is in bloom. There are
red flowers and yellow flowers and little star flowers. The trees are
full of buds or little leaves or blossoms of different colors. There is
a little turtle who is sunning himself by the brook near-by and who is an
interesting creature, I have heard. He wears a shell over his back as I
wear a little knitted jacket.
“At night I hear the crickets when I wake up for my bottle. And I believe
these creatures all like the country, too. The chickens and the ducks say
that in the cities they aren’t wanted and they wouldn’t be allowed to
wander about, so they wouldn’t leave the country for anything.
“And one evening I saw a moon in the sky. My daddy told me it was a moon
and surely he knows! And over the moon there was a bright gold star,
and I made a wish. This was my wish: that other babies might have happy
homes as I have, where they don’t want to cry, because there is no reason
to cry. I’m well looked after, I’m never spoilt and they love me; so
why should I cry? But what I’m thinking about mostly, these days, is of
how lucky I am to have such a daddy and mother and to see the beautiful
springtime in the country.”
APRIL 5: Brenda’s Easter Visit
“Her name is Brenda,” said daddy, “and when I saw her yesterday she told
me that every year at Easter time she went to the head nurse of the big
hospital and found out the names of all the children. Then she went
shopping, and it took her a long time to pick out things for little sick
children. She picked out for each child a big round chocolate egg which
rattled, for inside it there were little sugar candies; also a chocolate
chicken and a chocolate bunny. She always picked out ones that had lots
of expression too. Around the egg she tied a big red ribbon, around the
chocolate chicken’s neck she tied a bright green ribbon, and around the
bunny’s neck she tied a bright purple ribbon. Then she put them in a
little box and wrote on the box the child’s name.
“Last year Brenda went to the hospital the day before Easter. It was far
from being a pleasant day. There was a cold wind in the air and no sun.
“She arrived at the hospital just as all the little children had had
their wounds dressed. They were lying in their little white cots trying
to keep back the tears that wanted to come.
“Brenda asked the nurse if she could go inside with the gifts.
“‘Yes, indeed!’ said the nurse. ‘The children would love that. The
child’s name in the first cot,’ continued the nurse very softly, ‘is
Elsa. She has hurt her back, and no one knows how long she will have to
lie there.’
“‘Elsa,’ said Brenda, ‘happy Easter. A little chocolate bunny, a little
chocolate chicken and a big chocolate egg all said they wanted to wish
you a happy Easter.’
“Elsa opened her half shut eyes and clutched the box. She opened it
eagerly. There they all were! And the chocolate bunny did have the
funniest expression! He would have made any one laugh, and his purple
ribbon bow was sticking way up on one side with such a saucy expression.
Elsa burst out laughing. Afterward the nurse told Brenda it was the first
time she’d seen Elsa laugh since she’d been brought to the hospital.
“Then Brenda took the rest of her boxes around to all the other little
sick children. And such happiness as there was in the ward!”
APRIL 6: An Uninvited Guest
The children were just finishing their lunches which they had been eating
in the school yard and were going back to their classes when what should
they see but a bear!
“Oh, oh, hurry, scurry, run, run,” they all cried.
“Oh, what an escape!” some of them panted, when they were safe in a nice
big barn down the road.
But the bear was having the time of his life.
“Well, well, well,” he growled, “I really don’t understand it at all.
Children come to the circus and gaze and gaze at us, and tell their
mothers and their daddies how nice they think we are. But how they did
run! And I had come to pay them a nice call.
“Sniff-sniff, what is it I smell?” continued the bear. And then he
jumped around for joy. “Goodies! Food! Wonderful, wonderful food! How
kind of the dear little children. They really expected me to lunch—for
they’ve left lots of food—and when I came they didn’t want to make me
uncomfortable by watching me eat.
“Ah, now, I have had a fine meal, a luxurious meal, fit for a king—no,
fit for a bear!” And the bear rubbed his front paw over his well-filled
tummy and again growled delightedly to himself some more, saying over and
over again: “Delicious; such a meal!”
But along came the keeper of the animals of the circus and led the bear
back to his cage. For a circus was traveling through the country and when
they had stopped for a rest this bear had escaped. But what a tale he had
to tell when he got back to the circus again!
APRIL 7: The Tired Honeysuckle
“I’m very tired,” said the Honeysuckle, “and I’d really almost rather not
come up this spring.”
“But you are supposed to come up every year,” said the Hyacinth. “You are
like me, my dear: your roots are good and lasting. We don’t have to be
replanted from seeds every spring.”
“Yes, what you say is perfectly true,” said the Honeysuckle. “But then I
am old, so very, very old.”
“How old are you?” whispered the Hyacinth in a very low voice which the
Wind carried on his shoulders.
“I am so many years old I can’t remember. This garden I’ve heard people
say has been kept just like this for over a hundred years, and the house
near-by is just as old—in fact, it is older. I’ve been here a very large
part of that time.”
“Well,” said the Hyacinth, “then I don’t blame you for feeling tired. I
should think you would want to rest. Let them start another Honeysuckle
growing. You’ve worked hard enough.”
“Ah,” said the Honeysuckle, “that’s just what you don’t understand. I am
tired, very tired. But ah, I must blossom because of the people.”
“What people?” asked the Hyacinth.
“The people in this house. You see, I am just outside a window, growing
on my vine, and my sweet fragrance can be carried indoors. Of course
yours can, too, dear old Hyacinth, though you aren’t so old, are you? But
I last all through the summer, and you are just a glorious spring flower.”
“Then it’s no wonder you get tired out. And you have to give the
bumblebees honey. Your honey is very fine, I have heard.”
“And don’t forget the humming-birds,” said the Honeysuckle. “They love me
every bit as much as the bumblebees do. And I love them too! The little
dears! But I must tell you the reason why I come up each year, even
though sometimes it seems so hard.
“Years and years ago I was planted by a little girl—a little girl, Mary
Alice, who loved flowers and who could always make them grow. And above
all the flowers she loved her red Honeysuckle best of all. She watched
over me. She gave me drinks. She dug up the earth around my roots. She
made me so comfortable. And for a very special occasion she would pluck
off a spray of my red blossoms and wear them.
“Now Mary Alice grew up to be a big lady—though she was never very big.
She always seemed like a little girl to me, for she was so dainty, so
small and so lovely. Her eyes were very blue and her hair very golden.
But as the years went by each spring I noticed that silver was growing
in her hair, and then one spring I saw that it was quite white.
“During all this time there were other little children growing up—and now
there are some more. And I always saw my little girl—for I thought of
her as that even when she was quite, quite old—smiling at all the little
faces, and the children would smile at her—never scowls—always smiles.
Somehow no one could have scowled at Mary Alice, and I don’t believe she
ever scowled at any one. For when her hair was white, her forehead had no
wrinkles.
“Every spring she would be waiting for me. ‘There comes my honeysuckle,’
she would say. The last few years it has been very hard to come up. My
roots have lost their strength, but I have come along as best I could,
for I have thought of Mary Alice and her smiles.
“Last year she was sitting by her window and looking out at me. ‘That
honeysuckle is as old as I am,’ she said.
“And not long after that I missed seeing dear little old-young Mary Alice
and her smiles when I wafted my fragrance through her window.
“But one day I saw the other people of the house and the children, too,
looking at me. ‘The honeysuckle that she loved,’ they said. ‘Oh we hope
it will keep on coming up each year, for it reminds us so of her. But it
looks pretty old now.’
“So you see, little Hyacinth, I must come up, even though I am so very
tired and old!”
APRIL 8: The Flower Parade
“We’ll tell you a story,” said the white lilac bush while the purple and
Persian lilac bushes listened as did the garden flowers.
“We’d like to hear a story,” the fairies said.
“You see,” said the white lilac bush, “we are all a part of the great
Flower Parade. When the snow leaves the ground the crocus flowers appear
and take the lead in the parade. They are like the drum-major who leads
the procession, but instead of tossing a fancy stick into the air, they
lift up their little heads and tell the world that spring has come.
“Next follow the hyacinths, the tulips, daffodils, narcissus flowers,
garden violets, pansies, and little daisies. They all are about in the
same part of the parade. And when they come we appear too, as well as the
flowering almond shrubs and many others.
“But the pansies, little daisies and garden violets blossom all through
the season, so they’re like the small boys who run along by the side of
the parade—almost anywhere, at any time.
“And after we go the flowers will still keep on parading. The
lilies-of-the-valley are marching now, and soon the dear forget-me-nots
with their blue, blue eyes will come.
“The rockets, peonies, honeysuckles and roses all will follow along,
making a very handsome part of the parade. And later on the phlox,
larkspur so blue, and foxglove will follow.
“These are the flowers that come up year after year and they are the ones
which belong to the great Flower Parade. It takes a whole spring and
summer and early autumn to see the whole parade. But it’s worth seeing,
and though we can’t be here all the time, we’re glad for our part of the
parade—we are.”
And the fairies knew that the lilac bush was right and a parade of
gorgeous garden flowers would continue all summer.
APRIL 9: The Big Parade
“I want to tell you of a parade which took place some time ago,” said
daddy.
“After many bands had gone by, many soldiers, and many sailors, a wagon
drawn by four big horses came along, and upon the wagon was an enormous
cage. In this cage were homing pigeons.
“On the side of the wagon was written a little story about the pigeons,
telling how they had taken messages through all sorts of dangers, how
brave they had been, how clever, and how they had thought of their duty
and not of themselves.
“And when that wagon passed along carrying the homing pigeons every one
clapped, for here were little dumb creatures who had shown a wonderful
understanding and had done all they could for the country, and the
little pigeons were so modest that they actually wondered what all this
excitement was about!”
APRIL 10: The Alphabet Letters
“My story is a very sad and sorrowful one. If I tell it to you it will
make you cry,” said the letter Z.
“Alphabet letters don’t cry,” said the letter S. “Tears are shed over us,
but we don’t cry ourselves. So tell us your sad and sorrowful story, Mr.
Z.”
“Tell us the sad and sorrowful story,” repeated the other alphabet
letters.
“It shows I have a good disposition,” said the letter Z. “I’m neither
angry nor cross.”
“There, there,” said the letter S. “You used me twice in that last word,
which was all very well, but you need not have brought in that word
angry, for angry and cross mean the same.”
“All right,” said the letter Z. “I do so little work these days that I
really feel as if I didn’t know anything.”
“Poor letter Z,” the other letters all said.
“Tell us your story,” said the letter S.
“I will,” agreed the letter Z.
“Pray do,” the others urged.
“It’s the letter S which has caused the trouble,” said the letter Z.
The letter S wiggled and wriggled and twisted and turned and said:
“I beg you pardon, letter Z. I am sure I have meant no harm.”
“None at all,” said the letter Z. “I know you have meant no harm. And you
needn’t beg my pardon, for it isn’t your fault. You can’t rule teachers
and parents and writers and students. You do what you can for them, that
is all.
“But think about it, letters, and you will understand. Just think of the
number of words which used to need my letter in them and now they have
put the letter S in instead.”
“Yes,” said the letter M, “that is true, and we can think about these
things now, for it is recess time.”
“Think of all the words which end with the letters ‘ise.’ They used to
end with the letters ‘ize.’”
“True,” said the alphabet letters; “perfectly true.”
“You’re sure you are not angry with me?” asked the letter S, wriggling
nervously.
“Quite true,” said the letter Z. “As I said before, it is not your fault.
But isn’t my tale a sad and sorrowful one?”
“It is,” said the other letters.
But just then up spoke the letter S and the letter I and the letter E.
“Letter Z,” they said, “come and join us or we won’t be a word. We need
you, letter Z; we must have you.”
So the letter Z joined these three letters and they all jumped around as
the word SIZE appeared, as you have doubtless already guessed.
“You’re all very good to me,” said the letter Z as it played around with
the letters S and I and E. Each one kept its own place in the word, but
sometimes they made themselves look very big and sometimes they made
themselves look very small and sometimes they made themselves look just
about medium size. For, as they made up the word size, and as size can
be small—small size, you know—or big, they did everything they could and
played all the games they could.
Then other letters formed other words and they played around, just as
they should have played to show folks what they meant. You can imagine
what a wonderful time the letters F and U and N had.
“Hurry, hurry,” said the letter S. “All the big S letters and all the
little S letters. Hurry now to the class rooms.”
“I don’t have to hurry much,” said the letter Z, “but I will either live
to a very old age from being lazy and doing nothing to tire myself, or
else I’ll be forgotten entirely.”
“Oh, no, you won’t be forgotten,” said the other alphabet letters.
“We’ll see to that,” said the letters A and B and C. “We have a great
deal to do with schools and lessons, you know, and we will keep you with
us, never fear.”
“Thank you, thank you,” said the letter Z, as it twisted itself slowly
back into the school rooms.
And the letter S said: “Thank you for not being angry with me. You’re a
good sport, letter Z.”
APRIL 11: The Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher
“The Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher,” said daddy, “is known by such a name
because he has a very long tail which is very much the shape of a pair of
scissors. In fact, his tail is like two tails which open and shut as one
would open and close a pair of scissors.
“He opens and closes his scissor-like tail when he does his marketing
just as ladies would open and close their purses after they had bought
something.
“His home is a very large nest, and it is made of anything at all—grass
and bits of cloth and strings and bits of twigs. In fact, he is very good
natured.
“Mrs. Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher has a happy time with such a pleasant
mate and she is pleasant herself which makes them both happy.
“The event of her life is hatching time. When she is sitting on four
whitish-brown eggs which will soon be little scissor-tailed flycatchers
she is as happy as a bird can be, and that is pretty happy, as you can
imagine.
“I am going to tell you now about Mr. Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher and his
talk to an insect.
“‘Little insect,’ said Mr. Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher, ‘I am very well
named. I am called a flycatcher and I catch flies. But I don’t only catch
flies. I catch other insects as well.’
“But the insect heard no more for he had scampered away from the
Flycatcher.”
APRIL 12: The Woodpecker Band
“Come on, come on, join the band! Rehearsals to begin this morning! Get
in practise! Lose no time! We’re ready, and we hope you’ll be ready too.
First practise to start in half an hour.”
Now the woodpeckers were the ones who had been talking. They were already
starting to practise by drumming on the bark of the trees. The trees are
the drums and the woodpeckers all beat the drums. Of course a great deal
of the time they work hard at the trees, burrowing for insects, and they
help to destroy many bad ones.
But some time before Mr. Hairy Woodpecker had suggested they should start
a band. The drums were played by Mr. Hairy Woodpecker, Mr. Red-Headed
Woodpecker, Mr. Downy Woodpecker, Mr. Sapsucker, Mr. Crested Woodpecker
and Mr. Flicker Woodpecker.
Those who sang and helped along the chorus and played little mouth-organs
and various instruments made out of twigs were the warblers, the vireos,
goldfinches, mocking-birds, bobolinks, chickadees, pewees, phoebes,
orioles, thrushes, song-sparrows and whippoorwills. And of course, almost
the most important of all were the robins!
Mr. Robin Redbreast was the leader of the band. He waved a little stick
in front of the band-stand, which was up in a tree.
How they all did play and sing. Now in a great many bands, in fact in
most bands, they do not have singing, but in the woodpecker’s band it is
entirely different.
What would a band be like in birdland without singing? They would miss
all the beautiful songsters who would add so much music, and that would
be such a pity.
So the woodpeckers were wise indeed when they asked the song birds to
join in the band.
They practised all that day for the coming concert. And before they went
to bed that night and before they even thought of putting their heads
under their wings, they sent around notices to all the birds to be on
hand, and this is how the notices read: “First concert of the season
to be given by the Woodpeckers’ Band to-morrow at sunrise. Mr. Robin
Redbreast will conduct.”
The concert was a huge success and the people said, “It’s really and
truly the springtime when we have a concert such as we were given this
morning!”
APRIL 13: The Tease
“Grace,” said daddy, “had a brother named Edward, and Edward was a tease;
not a nice, good-natured, funny sort of a tease, but he was the kind who
hurt people’s feelings. He would see some one who had a suit on which was
not new, or which had been patched, and he would try to make the one who
was wearing it feel very uncomfortable.
“Edward would also see boys wearing their older brothers’ suits, and he
would say with a mean look: ‘Where did you get that suit?’