“Once upon a time, a long while ago, faint and weary from the heat of
the day, I sheltered myself under a shady vine. When I looked up I saw
beautiful bunches of grapes—like ladies’ fingers—hanging all about me.
A bunch I took, and found them so delicious that I said to the vine,
‘Tell me, Grape Vine, what is your story, and why do you grow such
grapes?’ And this is what the Grape Vine said:—
“‘My story is a very simple one! When I was a little hard white pip I
was covered with pale, firm flesh, and my green skin was as smooth as
silk! As I grew older my flesh got softer, and my skin expanded to
allow for my growth.
“‘About this time the Sun began to take notice of me; and in a playful
way he took to patting my cheeks every time he passed. In spite of
myself I always blushed; and, somehow, try as I might, I never could
get rid of the blush again. The result was, that the oftener I blushed
the deeper my colour became.
“‘One day he stopped to tease me about it, and I got so annoyed that I
became almost red with indignation. At that very moment, a pretty
little lady, passing by, evidently seeing my plight, promptly plucked
me from my place and popped me in her mouth! For a moment or two I was
pleased to be out of the sight of the Sun; but presently I got so warm
that I was glad to be taken out, even if it was only to be stared at by
my tiny lady friend!
“‘It was then that I had time to notice that she had lovely blue eyes,
milk-white teeth, and the prettiest little fingers in the world! “Poor
little grape,” said she; “I don’t suppose you know I’m going to eat
you; but I am! What a pity you are so round and red! I wonder why you
don’t grow as long as my finger? You would be far prettier if you were
shaped like a lady’s finger instead of like an owl’s eye!”
“‘And she laughed so suddenly that I nearly fell out of her hand with
fright!
“‘Now, although she said that funny thing about me, I was so charmed
with the way in which she spoke, that I there and then resolved, if
ever I got the chance, to try and grow in the shape she had suggested.
“‘But an instant after I thought that the end of the world had come,
for, with a smart little nip of her teeth she cut right into my flesh,
and in less than a minute she had stripped me bare, and I lay in the
palm of her hand, nearly frightened to death!
“‘“Poor little seed,” she murmured, looking down at me strangely, “I
wonder if you know what has happened to you, and whether you’ve got any
life left! Well, you can’t say, and I don’t know!” And with that she
blew me off the palm of her hand into the soft brown earth of her
father’s orchard!
“‘There I lay for many a day, waiting for something, though what it was
I couldn’t understand.
“‘By-and-by the winter rains began to fall, and the soil about me
tightened its grip.
“‘At first I didn’t like it; but I soon found out that if I wanted to
be cosy and warm I had better not wriggle and struggle, as at first I
felt inclined. Oh, how good and kind I found the Earth to be! For quite
a long time she let me sleep, and when it was time to wake she softly
whispered: “Feet down! Head up! Head up! Feet down!” And almost without
knowing what I was doing, I felt myself pressing downwards with two
little legs, and pushing upwards with a little green head as hard as
ever I could.
“‘The moment I got my head through the soil I knew that I had done the
right thing! There was the orchard I knew so well, and there, too, the
Sun, who somehow seemed different, for instead of patting me on the
cheeks as he used to do, he kept on saying, “Come up! Climb! Climb! If
you want to get on in the world you must climb!”
“‘Well, as it seemed the right thing to do, climb I did; and I kept on
climbing, until one day my little lady’s father stopped to examine me.
“‘“Oh, ho!” said Mr. Orchardist, “what have we here? A good-looker
right enough! I must watch you grow, my lady!”
“‘And he did too, giving me regular attention, treatment and care,
until I began to feel that the deepest wish of my heart would be
gratified. And sure enough it was, for in my fourth year, much to my
little lady’s delight, I began to grow a grape she had never seen
before—a long and shapely grape, with just the daintiest pink flesh on
its delicate skin!
“‘Quite unknown to her, Mr. Orchardist had also seen what was taking
place, and one day, to my intense joy, he said to the little lady,
“Come hither, little lady, and show me your hand!” And as she held it
out, he dropped into it my first bunch of grapes, saying, as he did so:
“At last! At long last! Here are My Lady’s Fingers!”
“‘As to why I grow such grapes there is surely no need to say. It is to
perpetuate the memory of the sweet little lady on whose hand I saw the
fingers which inspired me to imitate their dainty shape.’”
So ended the story.
There followed a second selection by the Band; after which the Prince
announced that a “Storks’ Companion”—one of the Fairies who goes with a
Stork when he takes a new baby home—would say what he overheard on one
well remembered occasion.