DANDELION.
In the court of the fairy queen was a child, as pretty and gentle as a
flower; a little boy, whose work it was to gather dew and honey, and
bring it to his mistress in an acorn-cup, or strewn in separate drops
over some broad leaf.
Now, this child loved his mistress dearly, and his heart was large and
true as if it had beat in a larger bosom; he could not bear to think of
torturing even the cruel Rodocanachi,--much less could he bear to see
his dear queen grieve.
Little fellow as he was, he tried to make his way toward the fairy's
chariot; but the people crowded so, and moved their banners about so
restlessly, that more than once he was thrown to the ground, and trodden
under their feet.
But Dandelion--that was his name--caught at the tip of one of the
fern-leaf banners, which happened to lean toward him; and, when it was
lifted into the air, he swung himself, like a spider, from banner to
banner, over the heads of the crowd.
Then he climbed up among the pearly, perfumed lily-leaves of the fairy's
car, and, all powdered over himself with gold-dust from its splendid
lining, knelt at his mistress' feet.
The queen smiled through her tears,--for she was fond of Dandelion,--and
asked why he had come at such a time; then said: "Perhaps my pretty one
can give me some advice." And all the fairy-people laughed at the
thought of a poor little boy being wiser than statesmen and generals.
Dandelion did not care how small they thought him, if he could but help
his queen; so he said, bravely:
"O, my great mistress, I was shaking dew out of the cups of white
violets that grow by the stream, when this giant lay down near me and
fell asleep. Then all the people hurried, and I with them, to your
court. I heard you ask what should be done with the wicked
Rodocanachi; and, when no one had an answer to give, and my mistress
sorrowed, I crept back all alone to the hill-top, where the giant lay,
and climbed on his shoulder--"
[Illustration: DANDELION TICKLES THE GIANT'S NOSE.]
"My brave little Dandelion!" said the queen.
"I had picked up a feather, that a wood-dove had just let fall on the
grass; and with this I tickled Rodocanachi's nose--"
"Fine work!" growled the general. "Suppose you had wakened him, and we
were all slaves again!"
But the queen, waving the general back to his seat with her sceptre,
said, "Let the boy go on: I am curious to hear the rest."
"The giant stirred; his head was on uneven ground, and the great brass
helmet tipped, tipped, tipped, and at last it rolled away, and left his
forehead bare."
"O, Dandelion, you have saved my kingdom!" said the queen; and the
people all shouted "Bravo!" and "Hurrah for Dandelion!" as, without
waiting longer for leave, they rushed to the hill-top where Rodocanachi
lay.
Then came a clanging sound, as if all the mountains were great brass
drums, and twenty giants were beating them--it echoed so far and wide.
"Ah, it's the giant's helmet! and now we fairies are safe!" exclaimed
the queen. She clapped her hands, and the six blue dragon-flies flew to
the hill-top with their chariot in time for Dandelion to see the helmet,
still jarring where it had been thrown by the fairy-people, far down
among the rocks.
"Now, fly, fly quickly," said the queen, "and tear up sods and bushes,
and gather leaves, till you've hidden the helmet so safely that
Rodocanachi can never find it again."
Fairies, though little people, are not slow; and when at last the giant,
with a snore that sounded like thunder, awoke from his sleep, the
helmet, for which he began to look at once, was nowhere to be seen.
And the giant's strength was gone. He could not break the stem of a
wild-flower, much less lift the game he had killed that very day. He
could hardly totter home; and, when there, could not open his own door.
So Rodocanachi began a search for his helmet: all in vain, in vain. He
stepped his great feet into it, and never guessed it was hid underneath
the grass, and bushes, and flowers, that looked as if they had always
grown where they were.
For a year he wandered up and down the earth, growing thinner and sadder
every day. He had nothing to satisfy his monstrous appetite except
berries and mushrooms. Sometimes the fairies, in pity of his wretched
state, would crack a handful of nuts, or kill a frog or two, for his
breakfast; but Rodocanachi fairly starved and worried himself to death.
And the queen was so grateful to dear little Dandelion, that she made
him always dress in cloth-of-gold, and gave him a beautiful golden
shield.
But this was only to remind the people how he looked when the boy crept
up into her chariot that day, all dusted over with gold. When Dandelion
died, a plant sprang out of his grave,--and every one said the fairy put
it there,--that had blossoms exactly like his golden shield; and, when
these withered, there came globes of seed, with starry wings, that
could fly about in the air, and swing on the wind, from leaf to leaf, as
Dandelion swung on the fern-leaf banners once. We call the flowers
Dandelions, to this day.
When, in summer-time, you see these golden shields sprinkled over the
meadows, and along the roadsides, you must think of the brave little
fairy, who did great things because so willing to do the best that he
could.