Violet: A Fairy Story. Guild Caroline Snowden. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Guild Caroline Snowden
Издательство: Public Domain
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежная классика
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like two lily petals, and though always clean and fresh themselves, I suppose they have dusted away more heaps of care, and though so delicate, have lifted people safely over wider seas of trouble, than all the strong arms in the world – all the railroads and steamships put together.

      She always carries in her hand an urn, from which a sweet and delicate odor arises like incense.

      Perhaps you will be surprised when I tell where she found this urn. It was the largest and most perfect blossom on a branch of lilies of the valley. Did you ever notice what lovely little vases they form when you turn them stem side down? I never saw one half as pretty made of Parian; but, then, of course nothing could be as beautiful as a flower; they are God's vases, and his work is always the most perfect.

      The lily never faded; nothing can fade in the light of Contentment's smile; and the modest little flower that might only have shed fragrance about its own green leaves, borne by the fairy, has sprinkled its incense odor through every land.

      Love is more splendid than Contentment, but not any more beautiful; her wings are larger, richer, and more delicate. They are like petals of the fleur-de-lis, or iris, perhaps you call it – the splendid, feathery, purple flower, with leaves like long ribbon streamers. They are transparent too; and wherever Love goes, the light, shining through these wings, casts a rich purple glow about her – dyed, as you may have seen the sunshine in falling through the great stained window of some church. Love's crown is a broad band of golden sunshine, and she scatters roses and violets about every where.

      CHAPTER VII.

      THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT

      But I must tell you what happened to poor Toady one day, and see if you wonder that Violet felt badly.

      She was sitting on the doorstep sewing, with kitty in her lap, sound asleep, and the three toads watching her from the walk – as happy a little girl as ever breathed.

      It was her birthday; and when she awoke that morning, the first thing her eyes rested upon was the largest bunch of sweet violets she had ever seen in her life. They were set in a beautiful white cup, with VIOLET printed in gold letters on the front.

      She hardly stopped to look twice at them, but, in her nightgown, ran to the door to find and thank her good, kind parents. They were not in the field or the garden; and then Violet remembered that this was market day, and they must have gone to the town, and might not be home again until afternoon.

      It was an hour before Violet could dress herself. She looked at and smelt of the flowers a hundred times – set them in every corner and on every ledge to see where they would look prettiest – talked to them, and danced around them, and even pinched her finger to see if she could be awake.

      All these beautiful, fragrant blossoms her own for a whole day – for a week – as long as they did not fade!

      Then she went to the brook for water, and setting her basin on the bank, knelt down among the dewy flowers to wash her face and smooth her long, soft, golden hair, and as she went home, sang her morning hymn; for Violet knew that every morning the birds poured forth their songs, and the flowers their odors, and the brook its vapor wreaths, in gratitude to Heaven; and she had no idea of being the only ungrateful thing on earth.

      She met kitty, and taking her in her arms, hurried into the house, thinking how surprised and delighted puss would be with the violets. But kitty was thinking of something else; she only sneezed when Violet put her nose among the wet flowers, and struggled to get away.

      "Well, there – go," said Violet, a little hurt.

      Puss had no thought of going; she purred louder than ever, and rubbed her white face against Violet's dress, and looked up at her wistfully.

      "O, you greedy kit!" said Violet, at last; "you're thinking about breakfast, and not my flowers. I'll eat it right away, so as to leave you some."

      But, for joy, she could hardly eat a spoonful; and however kitty slighted what was in the gilded cup, it was plain enough that she enjoyed the contents of the old tin porringer.

      While puss was eating, Violet brought her flowers to the door again, and began to look about for the toads. Pretty soon out they hopped from the wet grass, half drowned themselves in dew, and hop, hop, hop they came towards Violet.

      You may think she was very silly; but you must remember she was all alone out in the fields, and had no other playmates; so she made the most of these.

      The toads stood still when they came to the cup of violets, and looked up at her, winking their round, lazy eyes, until she felt sure they were trying to congratulate her and praise her flowers.

      Then kitty came along, gaping, for she had eaten more breakfast than usual; and Love reminded Violet that she had work to do, although it was her birthday; so she took kitty in her lap, left the toads staring at her flowers, and seated herself on the doorstep to sew.

      CHAPTER VIII.

      VIOLET'S TROUBLES

      Just then she heard a light, rolling sound, which came nearer and nearer, till at last she saw a carriage, drawn by two white horses. This entered the green field, and, to Violet's surprise, stopped before old Reuben's little hut.

      In the carriage were two children not much older than Violet, and their father, a tall, stately gentleman; besides, there were two footmen and a driver.

      The carriage was painted in gay colors, and gilded so that it fairly glittered in the sun; and the little girl inside was so gayly dressed, in silks, and ribbons, and artificial flowers, that Violet thought it must be one of the dolls she had seen in a milliner's window.

      But the doll, if it was one, spoke, tossing back her curls, and beckoning with her gloved hand to Violet, while the gentleman, placing a purse in his daughter's outstretched hand, said, —

      "Buy as many flowers as you want, Narcissa. Meantime I will climb the hill yonder, which must overlook a fine prospect, it seems to me. What do you say, Alfred? Will you accompany me?"

      Now, when the carriage stopped, the boy, Narcissa's brother, had taken a book from his pocket, and was reading it attentively; he appeared so unwilling to leave it, although he arose to follow his father, that the indulgent parent said, —

      "Well, never mind; you can read on."

      "Little girl," exclaimed Narcissa, "run quickly into the house and call your mother or father, or somebody; I want them."

      "We are the only bodies here," said Violet, looking at her pets.

      "Well, then, go and pick me all the violets in your garden; I shall pay for them."

      "They were sent to market this morning," said Violet, stroking kitty's back, and not feeling very sorry at Narcissa's disappointment, for the little girl in the carriage did not seem to her well bred.

      "But you must, you shall, find me some, girl," said Narcissa, in a rage. "Don't you know that I'm going to a fancy ball to-night, and my maid must have fifteen bunches of violets to dress me with, and we have only found twelve so far? I know you're not telling the truth, for there in the grass is a whole bunch of beautiful ones. Bring them to me," turning to the footman, "and kill those dirty toads in the path; I hate the sight of them."

      Violet rushed to the rescue of her pets.

      "O, no, no! they are mine – my own – my best friends —my toads and violets!" she screamed.

      But in vain. The footman stepped on poor Toady, kicked him across and across the path, till, all bruised and bleeding, he lay still, and, Violet thought, dead, while Narcissa clapped her hands and laughed at Violet's sorrow.

      "Your toads and violets!" she said; "I should think you were crazy. But I don't want to hurt your feelings, girl. Go and bring me two more large handfuls of violets, and I will forgive all your impudence and wrong stories. Why don't you go? What are you staring at?"

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