CHAPTER IV.



The Child started up, and, to recover himself from his fright, went
into the little flower-garden behind his cottage, where the beds
were surrounded by ancient palm-trees, and where he knew that all
the flowers would nod kindly at him. But, behold, the Tulip turned
up her nose, and the Ranunculus held her head as stiffly as
possible, that she might not bow good-morrow to him. The Rose, with
her fair round cheeks, smiled and greeted the Child lovingly; so he
went up to her and kissed her fragrant mouth. And then the Rose
tenderly complained that he so seldom came into the garden, and that
she gave out her bloom and her fragrance the live-long day in vain;
for the other flowers could not see her, because they were too low,
or did not care to look at her, because they themselves were so rich
in bloom and fragrance. But she was most delighted when she glowed
in the blooming head of a child, and could pour out all her heart's
secrets to him in sweet odours. Among other things, the Rose
whispered in his ear that she was the fulness of beauty.

And in truth the Child, while looking at her beauty, seemed to have
quite forgotten to go on; till the Blue Larkspur called to him, and
asked whether he cared nothing more about his faithful friend; she
said that she was unchanged, and that even in death she should look
upon him with eyes of unfading blue.

The Child thanked her for her true-heartedness, and passed on to the
Hyacinth, who stood near the puffy, full-cheeked, gaudy Tulips.
Even from a distance the Hyacinth sent forth kisses to him, for she