There were many flowers and they all talked calmly without arguing.
All the field flowers, Lilies-of-the-Valley, Violets, Forget-me-nots,
Bluebells, Cornflowers, Field Clovers, were so very modest; while the
cultivated flowers, like the Roses, Tulips, Lilies, Narcissuses, put on
airs like rich children in their Sunday clothes.
Verotchka loved the modest field flowers best. Of these, she would make
wreaths and bouquets for the table. They were all so nice.
"Verotchka loves us very much," whispered the Violets. "We are the
first to arrive in spring. We come here as soon as the snow melts."
"And we, too," said the Lilies-of-the-Valley. "We are also spring
flowers. We are not exacting; we come direct from the woods."
"It is not our fault that it is too cold for us to grow in the fields,"
complained the fragrant curly Stocks and Hyacinths. "We are only
visitors here. Our native land is far away, in a warm country where
there is no winter. Oh, it is so nice there! We are always longing for
our native land. Your north is so cold. Verotchka loves us, and very
much, too."
"It is also very nice here," argued the Field Flowers. "Of course, it
is very cold at times, but it is healthy. The frost kills our bitterest
enemies, worms and bugs of all kinds. If not for frost, life would be
very difficult."
"We also like cold," said the Roses.
The Azaleas and Camelias agreed with this. They all liked the cold when
they were through blooming.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let us talk about our native countries,"
suggested White Narcissus. "It will be so interesting. Verotchka will
listen, because she loves us all."
Then they all talked together. Roses, with tears, remembered the Vale
of Shiraz in Persia; the Hyacinths recalled Palestine; the Azaleas,
America; the Lilies, Egypt; the flowers gathered there were from all
corners of the earth and each one could tell many wonderful stories.
Most of them came from the South, where there is no winter and much
sunshine.
There it is lovely--the summer is eternal. The south is full of
enormous trees, wonderful birds, many butterflies, beauties, resembling
flying flowers, and flowers resembling butterflies.
"We are only visitors here in the North. At times, we feel very cold,"
whispered all these southern flowers.
The native Field Flowers felt sorry for them. Really, it must take a
good deal of patience to stand the cold north wind, the cold rain and
the falling snow. Of course, the spring snow melts quickly, but it is
snow, nevertheless.
"You have one great fault," exclaimed the Cornflower, after listening
to all these stories. "I don't deny you are, at times, more beautiful
than we, simple Field Flowers. I readily admit that, and then you, too,
you are our dear visitors, but your main fault is that you grow only
for the few rich, while we grow for everybody. In that we are kinder
than you. For example, look at me! You will find me in the hands of
every country child. Just see how much pleasure I give to the children
of the poor! No one has to pay money to buy me. It takes only a walk in
the woods to get me. I grow among the wheat, the rye, and the oats."