Part 9
“I came to the world in December,” said Billie. “You see, Fairy, I thought it would be fun to arrive in the world when everything was so exciting. Christmas was coming on and it was very gay and merry.
“I’ve had a nice winter, but now is the best time I’ve known, for it’s springtime. And I’ll tell you, Fairy Wondrous Secrets, I feel as though it were all my own springtime.
“I feel the soft, warm wind blow over my little pink cheeks which every one admires so much and I smile and I croon and I make soft little singing sounds as the trees do. And I look around to smile at the trees and the bushes, too, and to let them see my blue eyes. I ask them if they think my eyes look like the blue sky, for the bushes and the trees are always looking up at the sky, so they should surely know.
“I can see the yellow forsythia upon the bushes, and how gay and lovely it is. The lilacs are in bud, and there are white blossoms on the bushes. Back of our house there are some waterfalls and they laugh and gurgle as they dash over the rocks, something the way I laugh and gurgle.
“I believe it is their way of kicking with fun. I kick with fun when my mother puts me in the wash-basin every morning. The wash-basin, Fairy Wondrous Secrets, is my bathtub, and I splash and kick and laugh and have such a good time! I don’t care if the water spills over the floor any more than I imagine the waterfalls care that they spill water over the rocks. They enjoy it! So do I!
“I can see the ducks and hear them quack, quack. I hear that sometimes they lay seven eggs a day. The chickens and the hens and the roosters walk about and chatter, and one day a lady passed and said ‘Hello,’ to a chicken and the chicken got up from the ground most politely as a mannerly person would do, I’m told.
“The pussy-willows are out and the skunk-cabbage is in bloom. There are red flowers and yellow flowers and little star flowers. The trees are full of buds or little leaves or blossoms of different colors. There is a little turtle who is sunning himself by the brook near-by and who is an interesting creature, I have heard. He wears a shell over his back as I wear a little knitted jacket.
“At night I hear the crickets when I wake up for my bottle. And I believe these creatures all like the country, too. The chickens and the ducks say that in the cities they aren’t wanted and they wouldn’t be allowed to wander about, so they wouldn’t leave the country for anything.
“And one evening I saw a moon in the sky. My daddy told me it was a moon and surely he knows! And over the moon there was a bright gold star, and I made a wish. This was my wish: that other babies might have happy homes as I have, where they don’t want to cry, because there is no reason to cry. I’m well looked after, I’m never spoilt and they love me; so why should I cry? But what I’m thinking about mostly, these days, is of how lucky I am to have such a daddy and mother and to see the beautiful springtime in the country.”
APRIL 5: Brenda’s Easter Visit
“Her name is Brenda,” said daddy, “and when I saw her yesterday she told me that every year at Easter time she went to the head nurse of the big hospital and found out the names of all the children. Then she went shopping, and it took her a long time to pick out things for little sick children. She picked out for each child a big round chocolate egg which rattled, for inside it there were little sugar candies; also a chocolate chicken and a chocolate bunny. She always picked out ones that had lots of expression too. Around the egg she tied a big red ribbon, around the chocolate chicken’s neck she tied a bright green ribbon, and around the bunny’s neck she tied a bright purple ribbon. Then she put them in a little box and wrote on the box the child’s name.
“Last year Brenda went to the hospital the day before Easter. It was far from being a pleasant day. There was a cold wind in the air and no sun.
“She arrived at the hospital just as all the little children had had their wounds dressed. They were lying in their little white cots trying to keep back the tears that wanted to come.
“Brenda asked the nurse if she could go inside with the gifts.
“‘Yes, indeed!’ said the nurse. ‘The children would love that. The child’s name in the first cot,’ continued the nurse very softly, ‘is Elsa. She has hurt her back, and no one knows how long she will have to lie there.’
“‘Elsa,’ said Brenda, ‘happy Easter. A little chocolate bunny, a little chocolate chicken and a big chocolate egg all said they wanted to wish you a happy Easter.’
“Elsa opened her half shut eyes and clutched the box. She opened it eagerly. There they all were! And the chocolate bunny did have the funniest expression! He would have made any one laugh, and his purple ribbon bow was sticking way up on one side with such a saucy expression. Elsa burst out laughing. Afterward the nurse told Brenda it was the first time she’d seen Elsa laugh since she’d been brought to the hospital.
“Then Brenda took the rest of her boxes around to all the other little sick children. And such happiness as there was in the ward!”
APRIL 6: An Uninvited Guest
The children were just finishing their lunches which they had been eating in the school yard and were going back to their classes when what should they see but a bear!
“Oh, oh, hurry, scurry, run, run,” they all cried.
“Oh, what an escape!” some of them panted, when they were safe in a nice big barn down the road.
But the bear was having the time of his life.
“Well, well, well,” he growled, “I really don’t understand it at all. Children come to the circus and gaze and gaze at us, and tell their mothers and their daddies how nice they think we are. But how they did run! And I had come to pay them a nice call.
“Sniff-sniff, what is it I smell?” continued the bear. And then he jumped around for joy. “Goodies! Food! Wonderful, wonderful food! How kind of the dear little children. They really expected me to lunch—for they’ve left lots of food—and when I came they didn’t want to make me uncomfortable by watching me eat.
“Ah, now, I have had a fine meal, a luxurious meal, fit for a king—no, fit for a bear!” And the bear rubbed his front paw over his well-filled tummy and again growled delightedly to himself some more, saying over and over again: “Delicious; such a meal!”
But along came the keeper of the animals of the circus and led the bear back to his cage. For a circus was traveling through the country and when they had stopped for a rest this bear had escaped. But what a tale he had to tell when he got back to the circus again!
APRIL 7: The Tired Honeysuckle
“I’m very tired,” said the Honeysuckle, “and I’d really almost rather not come up this spring.”
“But you are supposed to come up every year,” said the Hyacinth. “You are like me, my dear: your roots are good and lasting. We don’t have to be replanted from seeds every spring.”
“Yes, what you say is perfectly true,” said the Honeysuckle. “But then I am old, so very, very old.”
“How old are you?” whispered the Hyacinth in a very low voice which the Wind carried on his shoulders.
“I am so many years old I can’t remember. This garden I’ve heard people say has been kept just like this for over a hundred years, and the house near-by is just as old—in fact, it is older. I’ve been here a very large part of that time.”
“Well,” said the Hyacinth, “then I don’t blame you for feeling tired. I should think you would want to rest. Let them start another Honeysuckle growing. You’ve worked hard enough.”
“Ah,” said the Honeysuckle, “that’s just what you don’t understand. I am tired, very tired. But ah, I must blossom because of the people.”
“What people?” asked the Hyacinth.
“The people in this house. You see, I am just outside a window, growing on my vine, and my sweet fragrance can be carried indoors. Of course yours can, too, dear old Hyacinth, though you aren’t so old, are you? But I last all through the summer, and you are just a glorious spring flower.”
“Then it’s no wonder you get tired out. And you have to give the bumblebees honey. Your honey is very fine, I have heard.”
“And don’t forget the humming-birds,” said the Honeysuckle. “They love me every bit as much as the bumblebees do. And I love them too! The little dears! But I must tell you the reason why I come up each year, even though sometimes it seems so hard.
“Years and years ago I was planted by a little girl—a little girl, Mary Alice, who loved flowers and who could always make them grow. And above all the flowers she loved her red Honeysuckle best of all. She watched over me. She gave me drinks. She dug up the earth around my roots. She made me so comfortable. And for a very special occasion she would pluck off a spray of my red blossoms and wear them.
“Now Mary Alice grew up to be a big lady—though she was never very big. She always seemed like a little girl to me, for she was so dainty, so small and so lovely. Her eyes were very blue and her hair very golden. But as the years went by each spring I noticed that silver was growing in her hair, and then one spring I saw that it was quite white.
“During all this time there were other little children growing up—and now there are some more. And I always saw my little girl—for I thought of her as that even when she was quite, quite old—smiling at all the little faces, and the children would smile at her—never scowls—always smiles. Somehow no one could have scowled at Mary Alice, and I don’t believe she ever scowled at any one. For when her hair was white, her forehead had no wrinkles.
“Every spring she would be waiting for me. ‘There comes my honeysuckle,’ she would say. The last few years it has been very hard to come up. My roots have lost their strength, but I have come along as best I could, for I have thought of Mary Alice and her smiles.
“Last year she was sitting by her window and looking out at me. ‘That honeysuckle is as old as I am,’ she said.
“And not long after that I missed seeing dear little old-young Mary Alice and her smiles when I wafted my fragrance through her window.
“But one day I saw the other people of the house and the children, too, looking at me. ‘The honeysuckle that she loved,’ they said. ‘Oh we hope it will keep on coming up each year, for it reminds us so of her. But it looks pretty old now.’
“So you see, little Hyacinth, I must come up, even though I am so very tired and old!”
APRIL 8: The Flower Parade
“We’ll tell you a story,” said the white lilac bush while the purple and Persian lilac bushes listened as did the garden flowers.
“We’d like to hear a story,” the fairies said.
“You see,” said the white lilac bush, “we are all a part of the great Flower Parade. When the snow leaves the ground the crocus flowers appear and take the lead in the parade. They are like the drum-major who leads the procession, but instead of tossing a fancy stick into the air, they lift up their little heads and tell the world that spring has come.
“Next follow the hyacinths, the tulips, daffodils, narcissus flowers, garden violets, pansies, and little daisies. They all are about in the same part of the parade. And when they come we appear too, as well as the flowering almond shrubs and many others.
“But the pansies, little daisies and garden violets blossom all through the season, so they’re like the small boys who run along by the side of the parade—almost anywhere, at any time.
“And after we go the flowers will still keep on parading. The lilies-of-the-valley are marching now, and soon the dear forget-me-nots with their blue, blue eyes will come.
“The rockets, peonies, honeysuckles and roses all will follow along, making a very handsome part of the parade. And later on the phlox, larkspur so blue, and foxglove will follow.
“These are the flowers that come up year after year and they are the ones which belong to the great Flower Parade. It takes a whole spring and summer and early autumn to see the whole parade. But it’s worth seeing, and though we can’t be here all the time, we’re glad for our part of the parade—we are.”
And the fairies knew that the lilac bush was right and a parade of gorgeous garden flowers would continue all summer.
APRIL 9: The Big Parade
“I want to tell you of a parade which took place some time ago,” said daddy.
“After many bands had gone by, many soldiers, and many sailors, a wagon drawn by four big horses came along, and upon the wagon was an enormous cage. In this cage were homing pigeons.
“On the side of the wagon was written a little story about the pigeons, telling how they had taken messages through all sorts of dangers, how brave they had been, how clever, and how they had thought of their duty and not of themselves.
“And when that wagon passed along carrying the homing pigeons every one clapped, for here were little dumb creatures who had shown a wonderful understanding and had done all they could for the country, and the little pigeons were so modest that they actually wondered what all this excitement was about!”
APRIL 10: The Alphabet Letters
“My story is a very sad and sorrowful one. If I tell it to you it will make you cry,” said the letter Z.
“Alphabet letters don’t cry,” said the letter S. “Tears are shed over us, but we don’t cry ourselves. So tell us your sad and sorrowful story, Mr. Z.”
“Tell us the sad and sorrowful story,” repeated the other alphabet letters.
“It shows I have a good disposition,” said the letter Z. “I’m neither angry nor cross.”
“There, there,” said the letter S. “You used me twice in that last word, which was all very well, but you need not have brought in that word angry, for angry and cross mean the same.”
“All right,” said the letter Z. “I do so little work these days that I really feel as if I didn’t know anything.”
“Poor letter Z,” the other letters all said.
“Tell us your story,” said the letter S.
“I will,” agreed the letter Z.
“Pray do,” the others urged.
“It’s the letter S which has caused the trouble,” said the letter Z.
The letter S wiggled and wriggled and twisted and turned and said:
“I beg you pardon, letter Z. I am sure I have meant no harm.”
“None at all,” said the letter Z. “I know you have meant no harm. And you needn’t beg my pardon, for it isn’t your fault. You can’t rule teachers and parents and writers and students. You do what you can for them, that is all.
“But think about it, letters, and you will understand. Just think of the number of words which used to need my letter in them and now they have put the letter S in instead.”
“Yes,” said the letter M, “that is true, and we can think about these things now, for it is recess time.”
“Think of all the words which end with the letters ‘ise.’ They used to end with the letters ‘ize.’”
“True,” said the alphabet letters; “perfectly true.”
“You’re sure you are not angry with me?” asked the letter S, wriggling nervously.
“Quite true,” said the letter Z. “As I said before, it is not your fault. But isn’t my tale a sad and sorrowful one?”
“It is,” said the other letters.
But just then up spoke the letter S and the letter I and the letter E.
“Letter Z,” they said, “come and join us or we won’t be a word. We need you, letter Z; we must have you.”
So the letter Z joined these three letters and they all jumped around as the word SIZE appeared, as you have doubtless already guessed.
“You’re all very good to me,” said the letter Z as it played around with the letters S and I and E. Each one kept its own place in the word, but sometimes they made themselves look very big and sometimes they made themselves look very small and sometimes they made themselves look just about medium size. For, as they made up the word size, and as size can be small—small size, you know—or big, they did everything they could and played all the games they could.
Then other letters formed other words and they played around, just as they should have played to show folks what they meant. You can imagine what a wonderful time the letters F and U and N had.
“Hurry, hurry,” said the letter S. “All the big S letters and all the little S letters. Hurry now to the class rooms.”
“I don’t have to hurry much,” said the letter Z, “but I will either live to a very old age from being lazy and doing nothing to tire myself, or else I’ll be forgotten entirely.”
“Oh, no, you won’t be forgotten,” said the other alphabet letters.
“We’ll see to that,” said the letters A and B and C. “We have a great deal to do with schools and lessons, you know, and we will keep you with us, never fear.”
“Thank you, thank you,” said the letter Z, as it twisted itself slowly back into the school rooms.
And the letter S said: “Thank you for not being angry with me. You’re a good sport, letter Z.”
APRIL 11: The Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher
“The Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher,” said daddy, “is known by such a name because he has a very long tail which is very much the shape of a pair of scissors. In fact, his tail is like two tails which open and shut as one would open and close a pair of scissors.
“He opens and closes his scissor-like tail when he does his marketing just as ladies would open and close their purses after they had bought something.
“His home is a very large nest, and it is made of anything at all—grass and bits of cloth and strings and bits of twigs. In fact, he is very good natured.
“Mrs. Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher has a happy time with such a pleasant mate and she is pleasant herself which makes them both happy.
“The event of her life is hatching time. When she is sitting on four whitish-brown eggs which will soon be little scissor-tailed flycatchers she is as happy as a bird can be, and that is pretty happy, as you can imagine.
“I am going to tell you now about Mr. Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher and his talk to an insect.
“‘Little insect,’ said Mr. Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher, ‘I am very well named. I am called a flycatcher and I catch flies. But I don’t only catch flies. I catch other insects as well.’
“But the insect heard no more for he had scampered away from the Flycatcher.”
APRIL 12: The Woodpecker Band
“Come on, come on, join the band! Rehearsals to begin this morning! Get in practise! Lose no time! We’re ready, and we hope you’ll be ready too. First practise to start in half an hour.”
Now the woodpeckers were the ones who had been talking. They were already starting to practise by drumming on the bark of the trees. The trees are the drums and the woodpeckers all beat the drums. Of course a great deal of the time they work hard at the trees, burrowing for insects, and they help to destroy many bad ones.
But some time before Mr. Hairy Woodpecker had suggested they should start a band. The drums were played by Mr. Hairy Woodpecker, Mr. Red-Headed Woodpecker, Mr. Downy Woodpecker, Mr. Sapsucker, Mr. Crested Woodpecker and Mr. Flicker Woodpecker.
Those who sang and helped along the chorus and played little mouth-organs and various instruments made out of twigs were the warblers, the vireos, goldfinches, mocking-birds, bobolinks, chickadees, pewees, phoebes, orioles, thrushes, song-sparrows and whippoorwills. And of course, almost the most important of all were the robins!
Mr. Robin Redbreast was the leader of the band. He waved a little stick in front of the band-stand, which was up in a tree.
How they all did play and sing. Now in a great many bands, in fact in most bands, they do not have singing, but in the woodpecker’s band it is entirely different.
What would a band be like in birdland without singing? They would miss all the beautiful songsters who would add so much music, and that would be such a pity.
So the woodpeckers were wise indeed when they asked the song birds to join in the band.
They practised all that day for the coming concert. And before they went to bed that night and before they even thought of putting their heads under their wings, they sent around notices to all the birds to be on hand, and this is how the notices read: “First concert of the season to be given by the Woodpeckers’ Band to-morrow at sunrise. Mr. Robin Redbreast will conduct.”
The concert was a huge success and the people said, “It’s really and truly the springtime when we have a concert such as we were given this morning!”
APRIL 13: The Tease
“Grace,” said daddy, “had a brother named Edward, and Edward was a tease; not a nice, good-natured, funny sort of a tease, but he was the kind who hurt people’s feelings. He would see some one who had a suit on which was not new, or which had been patched, and he would try to make the one who was wearing it feel very uncomfortable.
“Edward would also see boys wearing their older brothers’ suits, and he would say with a mean look: ‘Where did you get that suit?’
“And—he also liked to tease Grace by making fun of her doll Gracie and by tossing her up in the air, and playing with her as though she were a ball, and he could bat her in a game of his own mean making.
“Oh, how she would feel when Gracie was lifted up into Edward’s hands, and then he would toss her up and say:
“‘What’s the difference? She’s only made of rags. Why do you care? Gracie doesn’t.’ One day he left the doll high up in a tree out in the yard, and Grace was afraid that more snow would come in the night and that it would spoil her beloved Gracie, for there had been a late snow-storm that day.
“But a boy, a friend of Edward’s, who didn’t think Edward was really much of a boy for teasing Grace in that horrid way, had found Grace crying. He found out what the trouble was, and he got Gracie from the high limb of the tree.
“Edward didn’t know that his friend had brought down the doll, and at night when he slept, lo and behold, Gracie seemed to come and stand at the end of his bed.
“But no longer was Gracie a little rag doll. She had grown, oh, she had grown. And she was wearing instead of a painted wig, great icicles which were so heavy and cold looking.
“Her body seemed very stiff and straight. It seemed very strong, and as if she were made of steel or of iron instead of rags.
“‘Edward,’ she said, and her voice seemed harsh and terrible, ‘Edward,’ she continued, ‘you left me out in the snow to-night, so as to tease your little sister. But now I will show you what it is like to be abused. Even if you don’t actually hurt me, you hurt your sister who loves me. Wait and I will show you.’
“‘Oh, don’t,’ shrieked Edward. He was very cowardly when he was going to be teased, you see. ‘I’ll be good. I promise,’ and his voice sounded thoroughly frightened.
“‘I’ll have to show you first,’ said the doll. She took Edward in her arms, which had grown so big and so hard, and she tossed him up in the air and around and about, so that he was frightened any moment he might land on the ground.
“And Edward thought of the doll outside—he thought she still was there, and oh, he was so sorry, but he never again made Grace miserable by teasing Gracie.”
APRIL 14: The Onion’s Speech
“The vegetables were talking in the cellar,” said daddy, “and I must confess that they were boasting a great deal. But still one can forgive a vegetable for boasting very often, for if we lived so near the ground—or in the ground as they do—we’d probably like to pretend we were higher up! The onion was now talking. ‘I came from the Land of the Pyramids originally. My ancient home was in Egypt, far, far across the water, in a wonderful, ancient part of the world that is full of history and interest and beauty.’
“‘Hear! Hear!’ said all the other vegetables.
“‘I myself have never seen that far land,’ continued the onion, ‘but my family came from there at first, way, way back where the family tree first starts from.’
“‘How can you have a family tree when you’re an onion and not even a branch?’ asked a very plain little potato.