Ever so many years ago the world was as bare and gray as the roads.
The Earth King grew very tired of it, and covered the ground with a
carpet of green. We call it grass. For years and years there was
nothing but green, until the Earth King grew as tired of the green as
he had been of the gray. He decided that he must have more colors. So
one day he took his royal retinue and journeyed to a hillside where he
knew there grew the finest grasses in all the kingdom. At the blast of
the King's bugler the grasses assembled, and the King addressed them
in simple words.
"My faithful grasses," he said. "It is many years since I placed you
here. You have served me well. You have kept true green. It now
pleases me to announce to you that I am about to reward a certain
number of you and make you lords and ladies of the field. To-morrow I
shall come hither at this same hour. You are to assemble before me,
and the fairest of your number and the most pleasing I will honor with
a great and lasting reward. Farewell."
How the grasses whispered and put their heads together then as a
breeze crept up the hillside! They arose next morning before the sun,
that they might wash their ribbons in the gleaming pearls of dew. What
prinking and preening! What rustling of ruffles and sashes! What
burnishing of armor and spears! At length the King's bugle rang out to
call them into grand assembly. Full of excitement, they stood before
the King, each hoping that he might be chosen for one of the great
honors.
The King greeted them as he had on the previous day, but he said,
"In this Court of Judgment I must have willing servants to help me.
First, I must have a keeper of the gate so that no outsider may enter.
Which one of this host will be keeper of the gate?"
Not a man-grass stirred in his tracks, for each feared that if he
became a servant of the King he would lose his chance to be a lord.
"Which one?" asked the King again. "Which one will volunteer to keep
the gate for me?"
At this moment a sturdy grass was seen coming down the hillside. He
was not handsome, but he was strong. His shoulders were broad, and his
chest was deep, and he was armed to the teeth. Spear points stuck from
every one of his pockets, and in each hand he carried a lance as sharp
as lightning.
"Let the others wait for their honors," he thought, as he said,
"I will serve the King."
"So be it," said the King. "Take your station at the gate. And now,"
continued the King, "I must have a herald to announce my awards and my
commands. Who will be my herald?"
Again there was silence among the man-grasses, until at last one was
seen to advance. He was short and round and smiling, as happy a grass
as grew on the hill. He came before the King as fast as his short legs
could carry him.
"So it please the King," he said. "I will be his royal herald."
"So be it," said the King. "Stand here at my feet."
"Two torch-bearers I need," the King went on, "two torch-bearers, tall
and comely, to hold the lights on high. Who will serve the King as
torch-bearers?"
And now there was silence and stiffness among the lady-grasses as each
feared to lose her chance to be given a title, and waited for the
others. At last two slender grass-maidens advanced with glowing faces
but reluctant step. They were not as beautiful as some of their
sisters. Their ribbons were few and some of them were frayed. They
scarcely expected the King to accept them, but they meekly offered
themselves, as they said,
"We, O King, will be your torch-bearers."
The King looked greatly pleased as he replied,
"So be it, indeed. Stand here on either hand. And now," continued the
King, "I must have an incense-bearer to swing my censer over the
meadows. Who will be my incense-bearer?"
For a moment there was silence again among the lady-grasses, but only
for a moment. Then out stepped one of the daintiest of them all. She
tripped quickly and quietly down the hill to the King, saying modestly
as she approached,
"I will be your incense-bearer."
"Let it be so," said the King. "Await my commands. Yet one more
servant," he added. "I need some one to ring the chimes. Who among all
these loyal subjects, man or maid, will ring the chimes?"
Scarcely had the King's words left his lips when one of the noblest
grasses of all, her broad green ribbons rustling as she moved, left
the crowded ranks of the grasses, and eagerly advanced before the
King. "If it please your Majesty, I will ring the chimes," she said.
Then the King looked around, satisfied, upon his eager and expectant
audience, and spoke a few brief words to them. He had come, he said,
fearing that the task was almost too great for even a king--to choose
among so many and so beautiful subjects. But they had helped him by
choosing for themselves, and he had now only to award the honors.
"Keeper of the gate," he commanded, "stand before the King!"
The keeper of the gate came awkwardly forward, pricking all who
brushed against him as he passed.
"Because you have been willing to serve," said the King, "I reward you
with distinguished honor." Then, taking from the hand of a page a
great velvet cap of purplish red, he placed it upon the head of the
gatekeeper, saying as he did so, "I dub you: My Lord, the Thistle.
"Let the King's herald stand forth!"
The little round, happy herald obeyed. The King took a great gold
coronet from the hand of a page and placed it upon the herald's head,
saying,
"Because of your readiness to serve the King, I create you a noble of
the field, and dub you: My Lord, the Dandelion.
"Let the torch-bearers stand forth!"
Then the two shy grass-maidens bowed before the King. On the head of
each the King placed a shining crown, one all gold, and the other of
gold rimmed with white, that they might be told apart; and he said to
them,
"Because of your generous deed, I dub you: Lady Buttercup and Lady
Daisy.
"Now, my incense-bearer!"
The dainty grass-maiden knelt at his feet and bowed her head.
The King beckoned to a page, who brought him a tiny hood of beautiful
blue. This the King placed upon her head, saying,
"I am grateful for your service. I dub you: Lady Violet.
"Let the ringer of the royal chimes appear!"
The beautiful grass with the broad, shining ribbons stood proudly
before him, and bent her head in salute. The King took a silver bell
and gave it to her, saying,
"This shall be the sign of your royal office. I dub you: Lady
Lily-of-the-Field."
Then the King charged his new-made lords and ladies to be faithful to
their service, and never cease, year by year, to return and beautify
the earth. Then the assembly was dissolved, but not until the whole
host of grasses on the hillside had applauded what the King had done.
They were disappointed, but they knew that the bravest and truest had
been made the most beautiful among them, and crowned with the honor
due.