Chapter 18
section eighteen of birds and nature vol i january nineteen hundred one recorded for librivox dot org by betty b a night in the flower garden a fairy story the day had passed and the sun had gone to sleep in a bed of crimson and gold the wind blew softly at which the leaves on the great trees in the garden began to murmur though it was evening they were not sleepy like some of the flowers who thought it time to go to sleep when the sun did Sometimes the leaves were awake all night. You could hear them moving gently in the breeze. The clover leaves were folded close in sleep long ago, and the poppies declared they could not sit up a moment longer. But the tall white lilies, who loved the night, were wide awake. They could
not sleep when the garden was full of moonlight. They said the crickets were so noisy, and the katydids so quarrelsome that it disturbed them. So they stood fair and white, gathering the dew in their silvery cups, which filled the soft night air with sweet perfume. The roses were looking pale and sad in the moonlight. They reveled in the golden sunshine and grew brilliant in the heat of day. But they were languid now, and sometimes a little breeze would send their velvet petals
floating to the ground to fade and die. The pansies nestled low with closed eyes. You would have not had known where the mignonette and heliotrope were, had you not breathed their sweet perfume, for they were fast asleep. The nasturtiums, hollyhocks, and marigolds were still as bright and gay as if the sun, whom they loved, could see them, and they felt like sitting up with the four o'clocks and evening primroses, who never went to sleep until very late. But of all the
flowers in the garden, the sweet peas were the widest awake. There they stood in rows, dainty and fair, never thinking of going to sleep, but trembling with excitement. You could see them whispering together, for they had heard that tonight the fairy queen was to come to the garden and would give a soul to some flower, which one they did not know, but hoped it would be to them. A little hummingbird had brought the news and had told it only to the sweet peas,
So they thought it must be for them that this beautiful change was to come. Had they not heard that years ago a sweet flower called Narcissus had been changed into a beautiful youth who could wander where he wished? What delight that would be! And had they not also heard of pansies changing into little children, and larkspurs into larks that soared away into the bright blue sky? of water lilies changing into maidens who made their homes under the green waves,
and they had always thought that myriads of brilliant flowers were changed into the daintiest of all things. The little hummingbirds must have been flowers at one time, for they were always hovering around them, kissing them and making love to them. Oh, if the fairy queen would only change them into birds, or velvet bees, or better still, into the beautiful butterflies that came to them so often and fluttered like a cloud around them. Yes, they would rather be
butterflies than anything else. Slowly the moonlight faded from the flowers, the shadows of the night deepened, and the soft dew fell like a benediction. A fairy form floated over the sweetest of blossoms, then disappeared, and all was dark and silent, save a gentle flutter, as of wings. But in the morning, when the sunbeams had awakened the sleeping blossoms, a flight of bright-winged butterflies floated in the air, or lighted for a moment on the flowers,
but the sweet peas had all disappeared and were nowhere to be seen. Fanny Wright Dixon. End of section 18. This recording is in the public domain.
