Part 10

To the third fairy he gave a robe of red and a wand of gold. "Follow Summer," he said, "for you are Autumn. As you pass from land to land the blossoms of the earth shall change to fruit; the grown-up babies shall make cradles for the babies of next year. Red and brown shall turn the leaves, red and purple shall hang the berries, and as you wave your wand the corn that covers half the land shall change to gold. Take with you still hot days and little creeping evening winds."

The Autumn Fairy went forth in her crimson robe. As she passed the blossoms changed to fruit, the grown-up things made cradles for the babies of next year.

To the last fairy he gave a robe of white and a sparkling wand of diamonds. "You are Winter," he said. "As you pass, you shall lull all growing things to their season's sleep and rest, that they may wake refreshed when Spring returns. Take with you rain and hail and ice and frost, and the white snow-covering for the sleeping earth."

The Winter Fairy followed her sister Autumn up and down the earth from pole to pole. As she went all growing things folded themselves away for their season's rest.

SPRING STORY

Elsie lay on a couch by an open window, trying to grow strong again. She had been hurt, and had to lie here for a year. As she had always been an outdoor girl she found it hard to stay so long indoors. But the sunbeams and the little winds came in to play with her, her favourite tree outside the window made funny leaf shapes to amuse her, and, best of all, the Season Fairies came to tell her the doings of the outdoor world.

This is what the Spring Fairy said: "Each day the sun shines more brightly, and everything is waking from its winter sleep. The spring wind knocks at the close-shut doors of the winter houses, and calls again and again till they are opened. Buds burst, leaves and flowers dance out, and everything is gay.

"In the garden plots crocuses and snowdrops and golden daffodils nod to one another across the ground, primroses and violets scent the air, and hyacinths ring their merry chimes. Pink-tipped daisies open their golden eyes here and there on the lawn; the grass-blades shoot up straight and green.

"I flew through the kitchen garden on my way here. The radishes have already sent up two thick leaves, and the young cabbages stand in stiff rows like soldiers, each trying to grow a heart. I peeped under the ground. There everything is sprouting. The peas and beans have burst open at the sides, and strong white shoots have come out. The potatoes are growing stems out of their eyes, and are sending down white roots to search for water. Under the ground, too, the young grubs are waking up and moving fast, ready to devour all that they can find.

"Down in the fruit garden, the trees are a glorious mass of white and pink; for cherry-trees and plum-trees, apple-trees and pear-trees, are all decked out in their sweet spring dresses. The air is filled with their fragrance, and snowy petals soon begin to float on every little wind.

"The bees are busy there, gathering honey and pollen to take home to the newly-hatched bee-grubs. The gooseberry and currant bushes have opened their queer little flowers to the bees, and, low on the ground, the strawberry spreads its white petals, inviting them to its honey feast.

"In the pool below the fruit garden queer swimming creatures rush eagerly about in search of food, for the warmth of the spring has reached them. One day they are to grow into gnats or mosquitoes or dragon-flies, but they are not thinking about that just now, all their thoughts are on their meals.

"From grass-blades and leaves everywhere the tiny eggs are hatching that were laid by moths and butterflies; caterpillars creep out from them to wander off in search of food.

"In the wheat-field millions of green blades are shooting up; on the roadside grasses and thistles, dandelions and ragwort, and a hundred little weeds, are pushing and jostling each other for their summer places. The hedges are shining with the gold of gorse and broom; in the trees dainty nests are being made for eggs as dainty.

"A tender bleating rises all day from the meadow at the foot of the hill, for there the mother sheep watch over their snowy lambs. The lambs frisk and gambol on the soft grass, and the mothers call to them with the mother-note that has come with the spring."

SPRING TIME

Spring time is a merry time, A merry time is Spring! The little birds come out for straws; They build, and hop, and sing.

The daffodils and crocuses Spread out their golden heads; Sweet cowslips hang their scented bells Above the garden beds.

The cherry-trees are white with flowers, The apple-trees are pink. The green leaves wrapped in woolly buds Peep out at you and wink.

The winds rock lightly in the trees: The sunbeams dance and play. Come out! Come out! The sky is blue, The world is fresh and gay.

SUMMER STORY

With the summer came the Summer Fairy. She said: "The sun is high in the sky; at noon-day the air shimmers with the heat. The flower garden is gay with roses and poppies and Canterbury bells, the lawns and clipped hedges are like green velvet.

"Down in the vegetable garden the peas and beans are filling their pods, and the cabbage soldiers have all grown hearts. The mother potatoes are feeding their little ones with their own white bodies; the turnips and carrots are swelling as fast as they can. Under the ground some of the caterpillars have coiled themselves up and gone to sleep; others have finished their sleep and have flown out on many-hued wings as butterflies or moths.

"In the fruit garden the trees are green. The flowers have long ago dropped their petals and shut their doors while they made their seeds. The strawberries and cherries are nearly over, the gooseberries and currants and raspberries are ripe, but the apples and pears and plums are green and hard on the trees. The bees have left the orchard and betaken themselves to the flower garden, but the birds are feasting royally in the gooseberry and currant bushes.

"I peeped into the pool below the fruit garden. The young gnats and dragon-flies have crept up the bushes for their great change, and from there have flown away, when this was over, to earn their living like the rest of the world.

"In the wheatfield the green corn stands high, and waves its tasselled flowers in the summer breezes. The grasses and weeds on the roadside are all in flower. In the meadows the lambs have grown big, and the sheep are gladly being shorn of their hot woolly coats. The young birds are leaving their nests in the trees and learning to fly, the fathers and mothers teach them with infinite love and care.

"There was a great commotion in the bee-hive this morning, for a young queen had wakened from her chrysalis sleep, and the old queen in her jealousy would have stung her to death. There was much running about and loud buzzing. Everybody was too excited to think of going out to look for honey; but at last they came to an agreement, and some of the bees went with the old queen to look for a new home while the rest stayed in the hive with the new queen. The old queen flew to an apple-tree in the orchard; her people surrounded her in a dense mass to protect her till a hive was brought and they were safely housed. To-morrow they will be as busy as can be, making their new honeycomb. Already they have started."

SUMMER TIME

Roses red, roses white, Up the hedges climb. Gardens are a lovely sight! This is summer time.

Clover red, clover white, Bloom among the grass. All the world is filled with light; Skies are clear as glass.

Cherries red, cherries white, Show with each new breeze. Linnets sing in sweet delight High on rocking trees.

AUTUMN STORY

The Autumn Fairy said: "The sun is a little lower in the heavens now, but at morning and evening the land flames with the gold and red of his royal robes. Gold and red! These are the autumn colours, the colours of the fruitage that fulfils the promise of the spring.

"Asters and dahlias and tiger-lilies are blooming in the flower plots, and seeds ripen in the places of the flowers that were there in summer. Pop, pop! What a constant noise the pods keep up as they burst and scatter their seeds. It is so loud that it almost drowns the buzzing of the bees. Out jump the seeds as far as they can, to find a new home for themselves.

"I watched a beetle as he walked under a larkspur. A pod burst above him and scattered its seeds on his head. 'How those great nuts hurt,' he cried. 'It is not safe to remain under this tree,' and he hurried off to a safer place. To him the larkspur seemed a giant tree, and its seeds huge nuts.

"In the fruit garden there is rich harvest, for plums and pears, apples and peaches and apricots gleam with red and gold amidst their tinted leaves. The chestnuts are ripe in their prickly nests, and the walnuts fall with a thud and split open to show their fine shells.

"In the wheatfield the golden corn falls before the sharp knives of the reaper, and the sheaves are set in stooks ready for the carrying. There is dismay amongst the larks and field-mice, for their shelter is taken from them; but the heart of the farmer is glad at the richness of the crop.

"On the roadside the grasses bow their heavily seeded heads, begging the wind to carry their children to a good growing place; the thistle seeds rise up on their own shining wings, and float away to find a place for themselves.

"The nests in the trees are deserted, for the little birds have grown up and now perch on the branches with the older ones. From some of the trees the tired leaves are dropping one by one. They have done their work well, so the tree-mother gently loosens them from the branches and gives them leave to rest."

AUTUMN TIME

Autumn time is apple time! Time for pears and plums. Corn is golden in the fields. How the reaper hums!

Lilies shine in garden plots, Berries in the bush. Brown pods burst along the hedge, Where the ripe seeds push.

Come with me to Orchard-land; Grass will do for chairs. Leaves fall off and tumble fast-- So do juicy pears!

WINTER STORY

The Winter Fairy said: "The sun is so busy on the other side of the world that he has not time to climb high in our sky. The Storm King, the Snow Queen, and Jack Frost have their way now, turn and turn about, with no powerful sun to check them. To-day it is Jack Frost's turn. He has drawn fairy pictures on your windows, frozen the little pool below the fruit garden, and flung glittering lace-work over all the land.

"In the garden plots all the flowers have fled except the hardy winter roses; the fallen seeds have hidden themselves as far down under the warm earth as they could creep.

"Everything is resting. The fruit-trees stand bare and brown and still, and you might think their life was gone. But on every branch sit the little buds which the tree-mother made in the long days of the busy summer. They are snugly wrapped in thick woolly blankets till the sun returns and the air is warm again. Then they will fling aside their coverings and dance out in the wind.

"Everything is waiting for the spring. The flies have hidden themselves away under the grass and in the hedges, and have gone to sleep till the cold dark days are done. Butterflies and moths have laid their last eggs and have hidden themselves away, to die, most of them. Bees keep close within their hives; the hum of insect life is stilled.

"The snails have buried themselves in the ground, sinking into their shells and fastening their little doors so tightly that no enemy can come in. Round the pond, too, the frogs have buried themselves in the soft mud to sleep till winter is over, leaving only openings enough for air.

"The wheatfield is being ploughed, that Jack Frost may break the earth for next year's crop. On the roadside the empty grass-heads stand, white and beautiful with fine frost-work, but dead beneath their beauty.

"Of the birds who sang their joyous way through the other seasons only the braver ones are left. The rest have flown to find a warmer land till spring returns. So ends the tale."

WINTER TIME

Snow, snow! How the winds blow. Across the sky the white flakes go. Their steps are fast--their steps are slow-- They mean some mischief, that I know.

Cold, cold! Jack Frost is bold. He nips the toes of young and old. But better laugh than cry and scold. Come for a slide with me. Take hold!

Run, run! The slide is done. We'll warm ourselves without the sun. Now snow is here and frost's begun, The Winter will be splendid fun.

PRINTED BY CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C.