the evil nightshade. We thought an elf who gave herself such airs knew everything, and think you justly punished for your vanity. Now that you are not fit to be seen, you had better hide yourself till the elves are gone,"—and the cruel tulips turned laughing away.
Poor little Blush knew they spoke falsely, and went sadly away to hide herself behind a burdock-leaf that grew near the fountain in a lonely corner, for she wished to see, yet not be seen.
With the first rays of the sun came the fairy troop, some on rosy clouds, some on the morning wind, some on their own fleet wings. Each flower heart beat fast as the shining band alighted and passed along the blooming terraces. On it went by the stately Lily, who grew pale with grief when she saw that the wands were not lowered before her, and with an imploring voice she cried: "Are not my leaves stainless as snow? Am I not stately and fair? Why am I not chosen queen?"
But the elves replied, as they pointed to a cluster of heart's-ease, dying for want of sun and air in the shadow of Lily's broad leaves: "In your white bosom lies a haughty heart, careless of all things but itself. We cannot crown you till you have learned the beauty of humility."
Blushing with anger, the Rose demanded, as they passed her by: "Do you not see me? Am I not the queen of flowers, royal and sweet? Give me the crown: it is my right."
But soft hands put the thorny branches back, and the elfin voices whispered: "Passion makes no flower fair, however royal be its birth. Rule yourself, wilful Rose, then you may wisely govern others."
