Part 2

I should have said they _tried_ to play _Three Crows_, for they had no sooner started than Colonel Claw, who was sitting on a branch of the mulberry tree and watching the whole performance, set up such a “Caw! caw! caw!” that Tono was obliged to stop the music and try something else.

After that they sang about the silvery swans, and Colonel Claw became quite quiet and subdued, for it did not interest him in the least when they sang of other people.

Then Captain Acorn thanked Captain Featherweight for the game and the music and said it was now time to sing _Oh, Joy to be Elves!_ This was the song that the elves always sang at parting.

“Oh, Joy to be Elves! To float on a breeze, And dance on the tops Of the tallest of trees! Oh, joy to be fairies, And ride on a cloud, Whether the wind Blow softly or loud!

“Oh, joy to be Elves! To roam o’er the sky, And race with the swiftest Of birds when they fly! Oh, joy to be fairies! To sail o’er the sea, And care not a clover, What happens to be!

“Oh, joy to be Elves! The world is all ours: The hills and the valleys, The fruits and the flowers! The moonlight and starlight, The clouds in the sky, Oh, joy to be fairies! Good-bye! Good-bye!”

Then Captain Acorn and his Company bade adieu to the Elves of Mount Fern, saying that they hoped to see them soon at Oakdale.

Thus ended the lawn party.

3

THE BALL

The next evening, at starlight, Captain Featherweight said it was time to begin preparations for the ball.

“The ballroom shall be the soft velvet lawn under the Linden tree, and we’ll dance by the light of the pale silver moon. But we’ll have to provide ourselves with fireflies too, in case a cloud should cover up the moon.

“So, Owly, you will please be diligent in catching fireflies between now and next Thursday evening, for I want thousands of them. So many fireflies, tied by gossamer threads to the lower branches of the Linden tree, will make us quite independent of the moon.

“And Lightning,” continued the Captain, “it shall be your duty to provide seats for the ladies, and I know of none more comfortable than fresh green moss-mounds. And we’ll arrange them in a circle around the Linden tree.

“And Tono, you will of course have charge of the music, and I want you to invite the butterflies to accompany the orchestra.”

“The butterflies’ soft minstrelsy Shall tune our hearts to sweet accord, But beetles, wasps, and bumblebees, We cannot have, they’re much too forward.

“Our berries, fruits, and honeydew Would disappear by magic sure, If we these creatures should invite-- Their very names I can’t endure!

“The flowers we’ll invite this time, And by the fireflies’ light we’ll see Their various shades of every hue, And all their gorgeous broidery”

said Rhymo, who never lost an opportunity to make poetry.

“Aren’t you a little late with the last verse?” asked Owly. “We’ve already invited the flowers. If you _must_ make poetry, why not try to make it in time?”

“Good poetry is always in time,” said Rhymo. “Just ask Captain Featherweight if that isn’t so.”

But the Captain was far too busy to pay much attention to Rhymo and Owly. He was thinking about the girdles.

There is nothing an elf prizes so much as a girdle, and Captain Featherweight decided to have special girdles made just for the ball in honor of the flowers.

“Rainbow,” said he, “and you too, Iris-Wing, shall have charge of designing the girdles.”

“And see that each one is appropriate,” said Touchstone, “and since Owly is so very wise, let his girdle be made of Solomon’s-Seal.”

This pleased the other elves so much that they asked the Captain to allow Touchstone to help in designing all the girdles.

“I don’t think any one as silly as Touchstone should have charge of anything,” said Owly.

“Have a care,” said Touchstone, “or your girdle shall be made of Nettles instead of Solomon’s-Seal.”

“I’m bored,” said Owly, “and I’ll just run away until the girdle question is settled.”

“And what shall the dream-elf’s be made of?” asked Iris-Wing.

“Oh, of Eyebright and Wake-Robin,” said Touchstone.

“And Rhymo’s shall be made of Laurel leaves,” said Rainbow.

“Why not of Poet-Asters?” asked Touchstone.

But the other elves paid no attention to this joke, and Touchstone continued: “When it comes to my turn, I want to decide for myself.”

“And Lightning, our swift-footed messenger’s girdle shall be made of the common Speedwell,” said Iris-Wing.

“And Tono’s shall be made of the Bluebells of Scotland,” said Rainbow.

“And mine,” said Touchstone, “shall be made of the Jewel-weed, for a jester is always a jewel.”

“And Rainbow’s,” said the flower-elf, “shall be made of the blue Forget-Me-Not, for he will always be remembered on account of his sweetness and tact.”

“And Iris-Wing’s shall be made of the elves’ favorite flower, the tall pink Foxglove,” said Rainbow.

“And now for our Captain’s! Three cheers for the kindest of Captains! His girdle shall be made of roses--to show that his Company loves him!”

“Rainbow,” said the Captain, “I appoint you Master of Ceremonies. You shall have charge of everything, and if any disputes arise, you must settle them.

“Right! Left! Shoulder arms!”

This, as you know, meant, “Get to work.”

At this command every elf scampered off in high glee.

Rainbow, Iris-Wing, and Touchstone went at once to Cavedale to talk with the Dwarfs about the girdles for the ball. And they decided that they should all be of finely wrought silver, except the Captain’s which should be made of pure gold.

Owly went in search of fireflies and brought home hundreds of them that first night, for an elf can fly faster than fireflies, and has no trouble in catching them if they can only be found.

Lightning went in search of moss-mounds, and flew back and forth so swiftly between Mount Fern and the soft woodsy dells where the moss-mounds grow that the very first evening he had almost enough for the ball.

But when he showed them to Rainbow, he found that some of them were not fresh enough, or fine enough, or high enough, or low enough, or large enough, or small enough, or firm enough, or soft enough; and he had to throw half of them away, and go in quest of more. Rainbow was very particular, and perfection was his law of life.

So the preparations went on, and when Thursday evening came around the busy little elves had everything in readiness. And when the hour of the ball drew nigh, they were waiting to receive their guests.

The Elves of Mount Fern looked beautiful that summer evening. All were elegantly dressed, and each was looking his very best, for the Dwarfs had taken great pains with the girdles.

Captain Featherweight was dressed in purple and gold, because, as he said to the other elves, kings and queens from time immemorial had always dressed in purple and gold; and as he was the representative in Templeton Gardens of the King and Queen of the elves, it was only right that he should dress to honor his rank.

Rainbow was dressed in pale blue, and with his girdle of Forget-Me-Not and a white lace collar he looked more like a flower than an elf.

Rhymo, the poet-elf, was dressed in white and green--and of course his girdle of Laurel leaves, which the three elves had designed and the Dwarfs of Cavedale had wrought.

Slumber, the dream-elf, was dressed in silvery grey, and in addition to his girdle of Eyebright and Wake-Robin, he wore a Poppy in his hair, for the Poppy, as you know, is the emblem of forgetfulness. But it was only a silver Poppy, not a real Poppy of course, for the ball was in honor of the flowers, and _all_ the flowers were expected to join in the dance.

The Linden tree was a magnificent sight that summer evening, with its myriads of tiny fireflies twinkling like little stars. It was like giant candelabra in the centre of a ballroom, only far more beautiful. And the lawn underneath was as smooth as the smoothest velvet, and at regular intervals there were soft comfortable seats of fresh green moss-mounds.

Rhymo saw the flowers coming and burst forth into verse:

“At last the gala night appeared, The moon was bright, the air was clear, And just at twelve from far and near, The flowers in couples did appear.”

Captain Featherweight was radiant in his golden girdle of roses. When the flowers appeared he and the other elves greeted them graciously, and led each one to a comfortable seat made of soft green moss-mounds.

Then Rainbow gave a signal to Tono and the music began.

The opening music was _Welcome to Mount Fern!_

“O welcome to Mount Fern, Ye flowers bright and gay, Your presence would brighten The rosiest day; Your smiles and your sunshine Great happiness bring, So mortals and fairies Your praises do sing!”

Tono had composed the music and Rhymo the words, just for the occasion, and the beautiful flowers bowed their heads in grateful acknowledgment of the compliment that had been paid them.

When the opening music had ceased, Captain Featherweight declared that it was now time to open the ball, and with a very low bow he offered his arm to the American Beauty Rose, led her to the centre of the lawn, and the dance began.

“How beautiful you are to-night,” said the Captain.

“That’s because I’m happy to be in such good company,” said the American Beauty. “But I’m not always so happy, and lately I’ve been feeling quite blue. What _do_ you think Doctor Templeton is going to do with the Roses? Why, only a week ago, I heard him telling his wife that he thought it looked more dignified to have nothing but _lawn_ in the front of the house, and that he thought he would move the Rose garden to the back of the house near the shrubbery. I don’t know when I have felt so humiliated! I really don’t think I could stand it! Why, when I lived at White Oaks, I was the pride of the family, and was given the most prominent part of the garden, in front of the parlor window. And every morning early, and many times through the day, Mrs. Chesterton came to see me. And she called me ‘Queenie’ and ‘Beauty,’ and said I was a joy and delight.”

“And so you are,” said the Captain, “for everyone knows that the Rose is the queen of all flowers.”

These kind words quite cheered up the American Beauty, and she blushed a deeper crimson as she and the Captain glided away over the soft velvet lawn.

Rhymo was dancing with a Pansy.

“Look at that Daffodil over there,” said he, “see how gloomy he looks, and the Amaranth is trying to cheer him up. I’ll make a verse about him--if you are fond of poetry?”

“Yes, very,” said the Pansy.

“Then listen to this,” said Rhymo, “and remember it, for it is worth remembering:

“A Daffodil walked past in gloom, And a friar’s coat his form encased; He boasted Mediterranean birth, The lawn with solemn mien he paced.

“The Amaranth took him by the hand, And whispered words of faith and cheer: ‘Another glorious world awaits The spirits of our departed dear’.”

“That’s beautiful,” said the Pansy, “but I don’t know anyone more sorrowful than the Hyacinth, and if I were Captain Featherweight I wouldn’t invite either him or the Daffodil to a dance. Isn’t he afraid they’ll spoil his party?”

“He couldn’t leave them out, you know,” said Rhymo, “because all the flowers were invited; and besides, they won’t hurt anyone. And even if they should, Tono’s music would soon cheer one up again. Shall I put the Hyacinth into verse for you?”

“Please do,” said the Pansy.

“The Hyacinth and Poppy next, Went walking side by side, The Hyacinth was sorrowful, His grief he could not hide.

“The Poppy soothed him as a child, Told him his griefs were vain: ‘Forget your sorrows, Sir,’ she said, ‘Their ev’ry pang disdain.’”

“I declare I feel blue,” said the Pansy. “Can’t you think of anything more cheerful than grief and sorrow, Rhymo?”

“Yes, indeed,” said the poet-elf. “All the flowers are more cheerful than the Daffodil and Hyacinth, and we’ll not think of them any more.”

“Look at that vain Narcissus,” said the Pansy, “he always makes me angry.”

“I’ll put him into verse too if you’ll be kind enough to listen,” said the poet-elf.

“Yes, indeed,” said the Pansy, who was very good-natured.

“You’re an angel,” said Rhymo, “you are so appreciative.”

“On the arm of a vain Narcissus, next, Was seen a Violet hanging low, Her modesty did but enhance His egotism all aglow.”

“That’s fine,” said the Pansy, “but suppose you lead me to a seat and finish your verses afterwards, for I’m beginning to feel a little tired.”

When they were seated comfortably on one of the fresh green moss-mounds, a Tulip and a Lily-of-the-Valley waltzed past them, and Rhymo burst again into verse:

“The Tulip did appropriate The Lily-of-the-Valley sweet, With manly stride and bow profound, He led her to a vacant seat.”

“Keep right on with your poetry,” said the Pansy. “Don’t stop to give comments, but make a verse as each couple passes us.”

“You’re the most delightful partner I’ve ever had,” said the poet-elf, “you’re so sympathetic.”

“The beautiful Forget-Me-Not Was lover, true and tried, Of dainty Daisy innocent,-- And he walked by her side.

“A red Rose danced with a Lily fair, And he said as he whispered in her ear, ‘My pure sweet Lily, you are my queen, I love you, dear. I love you, dear!’

“The gorgeous Sunflower, bold and brave, Approached the shy, white Cyclamen--”

But here the poet-elf looked hard at the Pansy, and saw that she was fainting; so he brought her a drink of water, in an acorn cup, and begged her pardon a thousand times.

“And please don’t tell Captain Featherweight about the poetry,” implored Rhymo, “for if he thinks I’ve bored you, he’ll send me to Doomdell.”

Then Rainbow came along and asked the Pansy for the favor of a dance; and Rhymo, who saw no one without a partner, sat on a moss-mound and watched the dancers.

The music was grand, and the flap! flap! of the butterflies’ wings beat time with the strains of the orchestra.

The Elves were happy and so were their guests, for Captain Featherweight was a charming host, and even the Daffodil and Hyacinth were enjoying themselves.

The flowers were truly beautiful, and were so light and airy in their movements that it was a delight to watch them. And they danced until the morning light dimmed the glow of the fireflies; and then all the flowers, led by the American Beauty Rose, thanked Captain Featherweight for the honor he had done them, curtsied low to him and all his company, and bade them adieu.

Thus ended the ball.

4

EMILY’S BIRTHDAY

At starlight the next evening the Elves of Mount Fern were up and about their business as usual.

“I think,” said the Captain, “that we’ll stay here for a long time. I like the neighborhood. I like the trees and the garden and the birds; and I think we’re just as well off here as anywhere else for the present. I’m fond of Colonel Claw, too; he’s a good fellow even if he is a crow.”

“Speaking of angels makes them appear,” said Touchstone, “for here he comes.”

When Colonel Claw arrived at Mount Fern he was cordially welcomed by all the Elves.

“Have a perch,” said the Captain, “and make yourself at home.”

Rainbow thought of everything, and as soon as he knew that Colonel Claw was in the neighborhood he had the branch of a tree brought in and fixed in one of the cracks of the wall, for it isn’t good form for a crow to sit on a chair or a moss-mound.

“I just dropped in to see if you intended to celebrate Emily’s birthday in any way,” said Colonel Claw. “It is only a week from today, and as the bluebirds’ house is still undisturbed I thought it would not be amiss to call a council of the birds in the neighborhood, and see if they would be willing to serenade her.”

“A capital idea,” said Captain Featherweight, “for nothing adds so much to a festive occasion as good music. And I don’t know any music more delightful than a bird chorus.

“I thought myself of engaging the insect choir to serenade her, but before deciding that, I wished to consult you. I want the choir to perform in the evening, and I wondered if the insects would be safe from the Night-Hawks and Whippoorwills.”

“They surely will for that one evening,” said Colonel Claw, “for I’ll send a carrier-pigeon with a note to General Grosbeak this very evening.”

“How will this do?”

“Colonel Claw presents his compliments to General Grosbeak. He begs to state that Emily Templeton’s birthday is a week from today, and craves his kind permission to issue a proclamation to Night-Hawks, Whippoorwills, and other insect-destroyers to stay away from Templeton Gardens on the evening of that day, as it is hoped that the insect choir will take part in the celebration of Emily’s birthday.”

“That is excellent,” said Captain Featherweight, “but do you think he will grant your request?”

“He’ll know,” said Colonel Claw, “that I wouldn’t have asked this for Emily if anything had happened to the bluebirds’ house.”

Then Colonel Claw departed, saying that he hoped to be able soon to show Captain Featherweight General Grosbeak’s reply.

After he had gone, the Captain called his elves together to decide what they should give Emily for a birthday present.

“I move that we give her a violin, so that she can have music wherever she goes,” said Tono.

“A violin isn’t music,” said Owly, “and how could she have music wherever she goes when she can’t even play a note? You’re so unpractical, Tono. Let’s hear a suggestion from some one else.”

“I suggest a book of poems,” said Rhymo, “and I’ll add some of my own. A book never gets out of tune, and is a constant source of delight.”

“That depends entirely on the book,” said Owly, who didn’t at all approve of Rhymo’s suggestion.

“Don’t you think a bouquet would be nicer than anything else?” asked the flower-elf.

“No,” said Owly, “because the house will be full of them anyway. That would be like carrying fish to a fisherman. Can no one think of anything more suitable and appropriate?”

“I can,” said Slumber, “for I dreamed only last night that Emily wanted a necklace.”

“The best suggestion I have heard,” said the Captain. “A necklace is just the thing, and I’ll send Lightning this very evening to the Dwarfs of Cavedale to ask them to have it ready for her birthday.

“And Tono, you will please compose some music for the occasion, and Rhymo will make some verses to suit the music. Or perhaps it would be better the other way around, but I leave that entirely to you.

“With the insect choir, the bird chorus, the elfin choir and orchestra, Emily’s birthday will be very well celebrated.”

“Shall I make a verse to accompany the necklace?” asked Rhymo.

“Not a bad idea,” said the Captain.

“Shall I engage the insect choir?” asked Lightning.

“That is my business,” said Tono. “Anything that has to do with music, you will please leave to me. I’ll attend to that this very evening.”

“Not at all,” said Captain Featherweight, “not unless we hear from Colonel Claw. How would you like to have the insect choir devoured in the midst of the serenade?”

Then the music-elf bowed low to the Captain in token of obedience, and said: “Your word is law, noble Captain.”

“Right! Left! Shoulder arms!” called the Captain.

At this command every elf scampered off and went to work. Iris-Wing went into the orchard to see if the bees that had been working there during the day had done their work well. But the flower-elf did not think so, and he called at the honey-bees’ hive to say that he was not quite satisfied.

The bees were very indignant that the quality of their work should be questioned, until the flower-elf explained that the elves had charge of the growing of plants, and that he was responsible for Templeton Grounds.

“Captain Featherweight,” said he, “is very strict, and if I don’t make a good report I’ll lose my place and be sent to Doomdell.”

“We understand,” said the bees, “and accept your apology.”

“And then, of course, it may perhaps be barely possible,” suggested a sister bee, “that the work of the dying honey-bee was somewhat at fault.

“The honey-bees were humming In a smiling orchard gay, They were working hard for honey, And were up since break of day.

“Many trips to many blossoms Helped to fill the honey-sacs, And the richly powdered stamens Showered gold upon their backs.

“Said one sister to another: ‘Why is it you linger so? Who will feed you in the winter, When the food supply is low?’

“‘I’ll report you at the Homestead, And the Sisters shall decide, At the Council of the Bee Bread,-- If you’ll longer there reside.’

“‘I don’t care for Queen or Council, I don’t care for hive or bees, I am weary carrying honey To the Homestead from the trees.

“‘Cant you see my wings are shattered, And my flight is growing slow? I am all in rags and tatters, And am ready now to go

“‘To the land of blessed perfume, To the haven of the blest, Where all toil and care are ended, And the honey-bees have rest!’”

These verses made the flower-elf very thoughtful--so thoughtful that he flew straight into Rainbow, who was flying in another direction.

“Excuse _me_!” exclaimed Rainbow; which meant, of course, “Excuse _you_!”

And when Iris-Wing recited the story of the dying honey-bee, Rainbow almost shed a tear--a thing that had never been heard of among the Elves of Mount Fern.

Then Iris-Wing passed on to the veranda where the Doctor’s daughters, Mary and Anna, were shelling peas for the cook. He felt very indignant whenever he thought of the bluebird feathers, even though they were safe in the nest, for he felt sure that Anna still had the _will_ to rob the birds. He wore his invisible cap, and could see and not be seen.

“I’m tired shelling peas,” said Anna, “and I don’t see why the cook can’t shell them herself.”

“You know Mother told us that she wouldn’t have time tomorrow,” said Mary, “and I think it is fun anyway. The poor peas have never seen the light except through a thick veil. They are really prisoners and we are helping to set them free.”

“You are always thinking of such queer things, Mary, that I don’t believe you feel about anything as other people do.”

But Anna soon went to work with a will, and in a short time the peas were all shelled.

“I’ll take them into the kitchen,” said Mary, “and while I’m gone, suppose you go after the clothes that we’re making for Emily’s doll.”

In a short time they were both on the veranda again, and very busily engaged in sewing for Emily’s birthday.

“What are we going to do for feathers for the mattress and pillows?” asked Mary.

“Why, haven’t I told you?” asked Anna. “I asked Mother about it, and she said she had a pillow which she didn’t need and that we might have it for Emily’s doll. If I’d only asked her in the first place, I don’t believe I would have had that horrible dream.”

When the flower-elf heard this, he departed, for he had a great many things to attend to that evening.

He wanted to see how the wildflowers were growing in the woods nearby, for it occurred to him that although Emily might have all the cultivated flowers that she wished for on her birthday, a bouquet of wildflowers could not be amiss. So off he started in search of them, and when he was quite sure that he knew exactly where all the different kinds grew, he flew back to Mount Fern.

When he arrived there, he found that all the other elves were at home and were listening to General Grosbeak’s reply, which Colonel Claw had just brought over. It ran thus:

“General Grosbeak presents his compliments to Colonel Claw, and begs to state that it will give him much pleasure to issue an order to all insect-destroyers to avoid the grounds of Templeton Hall on the evening of Emily’s birthday.”