"I don't believe it ever will be spring, the flowers take so long to
bloom; but I am going out into the woods to see if I can just find a
few," said Millie Horton to her bosom-friend Dora Merton.
"I'm not going," said Dora. "We will only get tired out. Our feet will
be muddy. There are no flowers yet."
"Well, I'm going. I'll see how near they are to blooming." And Millie
turned and walked away in the direction of the woods.
She walked on and on, and after reaching the woods and going a little
way in, she saw a number of little crocus flowers.
"Oh, you lovely little darlings!" she cried. "I knew I would find some
of you in bloom, and here you are, yellow, purple, and white."
She gathered them all, and ran on until she found some violets, then
some pussy willow near a little stream, and then under some pine needles
the sweet trailing arbutus. At last, tired out, she seated herself upon
a log, and fell asleep.
Suddenly she heard a little shrill voice call out, "Say, you Bluebell
you, move over a little; you are leaning over on my little sister."
Millie thought she opened her eyes wide, and looked into the basket, and
there were the flowers all turned into little ladies and gentlemen.
She was just going to utter an exclamation, when another voice called
out: "This is a very close place; I never was so crowded before, and the
sun is just pouring in on me. Do take your feet off my face; and if that
Spring-beauty does not stop screaming at the top of his voice just
because he happens to have the ear-ache, I do not know what I shall do."
And a cross yellow Buttercup gave the little Spring-beauty a very rude
push.
"Let's have a concert," said a peace-making Dog-tooth violet, lifting up
her little head.
"All right," "All right," came from all the flowers.
"Well, then," continued little Miss Dog-tooth, laughing, "you all seem
to want to take part, so let Mr. Jack-in-the-pulpit make a speech."
"I am not well prepared to make a speech, but I will do my best," said
Mr. Jack, looking very much flattered, as he straightened his collar.
And thus he began, "My dear friends--ahem! ahem!--I want you all to do
your best--"
He had gone no farther, when the shrill voice of a wild Columbine called
out: "I'd like to know what you know about it, telling us to do our
best, indeed! Better 'practice what you preach,' I say. You talk as
though you knew everything, when you don't know any more than that baby
Cowslip there!" and Mother Columbine subsided, her voice trembling with
rage.
A little Anemone then cried out, "We did not want to have a quarrel
right away, Madam Columbine."
"Noa; boot of course Matham Columpine con't vell rest unless she's
quarrelling," retorted a fat little Dutch Tulip in white breeches and
striped coat.
"Well, I won't make a speech before such an audience," cried Mr. Jack,
as he stepped down from his pulpit.
Then everything was in confusion from top to bottom of the basket, and
suddenly Millie felt herself lifted up, and heard her father saying,
"She is found." She opened her eyes, and saw the stars twinkling, and
she knew that it was night.
She was too tired to tell anything that night, but she related her dream
the next day, and they laughed at her; but still Millie feels quite sure
that she did hear the flowers talk.
* * * * *