KING MYRTLE AND QUEEN ROSEBUD.
Thus it came about that Myrtle was, after all, a true prince; and his
now happy father, having passed so many childless years, begged that
the young couple might spend at least one half the time at his court.
This request was cheerfully granted.
And after the death of King Brondé and his Lily Queen, which was not
until they had reached a good old age, Rosebud gave up her share of the
kingdom to her two sisters, that she might dwell always with Myrtle in
his own country.
Thus the two sisters reigned together. The eldest, with her beauty and
her grace, was an ornament to the court, and drew together the lively
and the gay; while the second, with her great wisdom, sat in council
with the nobles and managed with rigor the affairs of state; and their
reign was called ever after “The Reign of the Two Queens.”
The old woman died, soon after telling her story, at the house of Bess
and Judy, and was buried, as she herself had requested, with the blue
blanket upon her head, and her staff beside her.
After the father of Myrtle died, he and Rosebud became king and queen,
and reigned in his stead.
Their first act was to purchase from the king of the country adjoining
their own the tract of land which contained the little fishing-hamlet
by the sea; and there, by the side of the old hut, they reared a
splendid palace. The hut was preserved, standing exactly as it stood in
their childhood; and the little garden-spot behind--the grave of their
short-lived flowers--was planted with lilies, an affectionate tribute
to the memory of the Lily Queen.
The waters of the spring where Myrtle, with fear and trembling, once
dared to wash his face were made to gush up through a marble fountain,
around which the rose and the myrtle grew well together.
Their old companions were well cared for; and they loved their king
and queen just as well as when they were children of the shore with
themselves; for the good queen loved her people, and never ceased to
labor for their happiness. The holy fire had never grown dim; and
Myrtle, the noble-hearted Myrtle, thought and acted always with his
beloved queen. In all things they went hand in hand and heart in heart;
and dwellers upon the remotest borders of their kingdom found reason to
bless the reign of King Myrtle and Queen Rose.
* * * * *
The story is ended, but there is one thing which some might care to
know.
One day, as the king and queen were sitting in their private chamber,
talking of the long ago, the king said: “My dear Rosebud, why was it
that the Green Fairy, as she must have had the power, did not find some
way of informing your parents where you were hidden, or did not come to
your rescue?”
“She is here,” said a voice near them,--“she is here to answer for
herself.”
They turned quickly, and there, in her own proper form, stood the Green
Fairy, who spoke as follows:--
“The Green Fairy,” said she, “wished to prove whether the child Rosebud
could be as gentle, as sweet-tempered, when in poverty, and exposed to
harsh treatment, as when living in a palace, the idol of a court. The
little fisher-boy may answer that question for himself.”
But the Green Fairy was not so entirely neglectful of the little girl.
Something she could tell of a fine-feathered bird, which guided her
through the woods. Something, too, of a bird-song, heard by a little
girl standing alone in a dark passage.
“To the left now turn the key,
Three times three, three times three.”
Also of hopeful words, murmured softly from a tall flowering shrub,
to a child who lay one night in the forest, looking up at the stars
twinkling through the trees.
“Be of good cheer
O maiden dear;
No longer fear,
For help is near.”
And something she could tell, too, of a white lamb and of an aged woman
with pale blue eyes and dark flowing robes, who whispered to the Lily
Queen of Silver Lake, and the stream which flowed to the sea.
She was at the wedding, too, looking down from above, to see that all
went well with the happy ones below. Like this!
And, changing to a beautiful bird, she flew to the top of a marble
column.
And while they were gazing, she began to fly slowly around the
apartment, and disappeared at last through an open window. But still
they heard her voice singing to them her last farewell:--
“Farewell, farewell, most noble king!
Farewell, farewell, O gracious queen!
For other lands I’m on the wing,
No more you’ll see the Fairy Green.
Long may you live, all hearts to bless,
Long may you know true happiness!”
Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
An incorrect page number in the Table of Contents has been corrected.
The author’s first name on the title page is mistakenly shown as Anna.
Her actual name is Abby.