QUEEN BLOSSOM.
PROMPTLY the bell tinkled for noon recess in the red school-house, andboys and girls came trooping out into the sunshine, which was warm assummer that day. Nobody stayed behind except Miss Sparks, the teacher.She turned the damper in the stove to make it warmer, and put on morewood; then took a roll of bread and butter and a large pickled cucumberout of her desk and sat down to lunch, and to read Young's "NightThoughts," which somebody had told her was an "improving" book. The heatsoon made her head ache, and "Night Thoughts" and the cucumber aiding,the children, had they only known it, were in a fair way to pass anextremely unpleasant afternoon.
Luckily they did not know it, otherwise the pleasure of the recess wouldhave been spoiled, which would have been a pity, for the recess was verypleasant. There was the sun for one thing; and real, warm, yellow sun isa treat in April, not always to be had. There were the woods, beginningto be beautiful, although not a leaf-bud was yet visible. Spring wasawake, and busy at her silent work, varnishing brown boughs to glossybrightness, tinting shoots and twigs with pink and yellow and soft redcolors, arranging surprises everywhere. The children could not have putinto words the feeling which made the day so delightful, but all wereaware of it, and each, in his or her way, prepared to enjoy the hour.One tiny snow-drift remained in a leaf-strewn hollow. The boys found itout, and fell to snow-balling with the zest of those who do not hope tosee snow again for many a long month. Big girls, with arms about eachother's waists, walked to and fro, whispering together. The smallerchildren cuddled into a sunny fence corner, and, like Wordsworth'svillage maid,
"Took their little porringers, And ate their dinners there."
A group of girls, not so big as those, nor so little as these, strolledoff into the woods, talking as they went.
"Now you just hush up, Winnie Boker," said one. "It's no use, for wewon't have her. She's been Queen ever so many times, and now it'ssomebody else's turn. There are other girls in town besides Blossom, Iguess."
"Oh yes, Marianne; it isn't _that_," broke in Winnie, the words runningout of her eager mouth so fast that they tumbled over each other. "Itisn't that at all. You'd make a first-rate Queen, or so would Arabellaor Eunice. But, don't you see, Blossom always _was_ Queen, and now she'ssick I'm afraid she'd feel badly if we chose somebody else."
"Dear me, what nonsense!" exclaimed Arabella, a tall girl in purplecalico, with sharp black eyes and a Roman nose. "It wasn't fair a bit,ma says, to have Blossom always. Ma says other people have got rightstoo. You needn't be so fiery about that stuck-up Blossom, Winnie."
"Oh, I'm not," began Winnie, peaceably, "but--"
"My father says that Blossom is the prettiest girl in the wholetownship," broke in Charlie Starr, excitedly; "and it's real mean of youto call her stuck-up. Don't you recollect how sweet she looked last yearin her white dress, and what a pretty speech she made when George Thorneput the crown on her head? _She_ never said unkind things or calledanybody names! She's always been May-Queen, and I say it's a shame toleave her out just because she's sick."
"You're a goose," responded Arabella. "Who wants a sick Queen of theMay? She'll never be well again, the doctor says; and as for herbeauty, that's gone for good. Ma declares that it's absurd to call herBlossom any more. It isn't her real name, only her pa named her so whenshe was little, because he was so proud of her looks. Her real name'sSarah Jane, and I'm going to call her Sarah Jane always. So there now,Charlotte Starr!"
"You bad girl!" cried Charlie, almost in tears. "How can you! Poor dearBlossom!"
"Stop quarrelling," said Laura Riggs, "and listen to my plan. Blossomcan't be Queen, anyhow, don't you see, because she's too sick to come tothe celebration. So what's the use of fighting about her?"
"I thought we could go to her, and put on the crown and all, and itwould be _such_ a surprise," ventured Winnie, timidly. "She'd be sopleased."
"I suppose she would," sneered Arabella, "only, you see, we don't meanto do it."
"I propose that we call all the boys and girls together after school,and vote who shall be Queen," went on Laura. "Then to-morrow we can go aflower-hunting, and have the wreath all ready for next day. It'ssplendid that May-day comes on Saturday this year."
"I know who I shall vote for,--and I,--and I," cried the children.
Winnie and Charlotte did not join in the cry. They moved a little wayoff, and looked sadly at each other. To them, poor Blossom, sick andneglected, seemed still the rightful Queen of the May.
"I've thought of a plan," whispered Charlie.
"What?"
But the answer was so softly spoken that nobody but Winnie could hear.
Did I say _nobody?_ I was wrong. Certain fine ears which were listeningheard all, question and answer both. These ears belonged to a littlehepatica, who had stolen up very near the surface of the ground tohearken, and, with a tiny leaf-hand curled behind her lilac ear, hadcaught every syllable. Whatever the secret was, it pleased her, for sheclapped both hands and called out,--
"Listen! listen! Hepsy, Patty, Violet,--all of you,--listen!"
"What is it--what?" cried the other flowers, crowding near her.
"Didn't you hear what those two little girls were saying,--Winnieand--what _is_ her name--Charlie?"
"No, we heard nothing. We were listening to the tiresome ones whoquarrelled. How horrid children are!"
"Go a flower-hunting indeed," tittered a bloodroot. "They are welcome tohunt, but they will find no flowers."
"Indeed they won't. I'd bite if they tried to pick me," said a dog-toothviolet.
"Ach! fancy their fingers at your stem," shuddered a pale wind-flower.
"How little they guessed that we were listening to it all," laughed awhite anemone.
"Ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling, We'll be as late as we can this spring,"
sang a columbine.
"We know when to go and when to stay; when to open and when to shut,"said a twin-flower.
"Where is Mamma Spring?" inquired the dog-tooth violet.
"On the other side the wood," replied the columbine. "But she can't beinterrupted just now. She's very busy cutting out Dutchman's Breeches.There are five hundred pairs to be finished before night."
"All of the same everlasting old pattern," grumbled a trillium.
"But listen; you don't listen," urged the lilac hepatica. "_All_ thechildren didn't quarrel. My two--the two I liked--were gentle and sweet,and they have a plan--a kind plan--about somebody named Blossom. Theywant to give her a surprise with flowers and a wreath, and make herQueen of the May, because she is ill and lies in bed. Let us help. Ilike them; and Blossom is a pretty name."
"Are you quite sure they did not quarrel?" asked the wind-flower,anxiously. "It made me shiver to hear the others."
"No, they didn't quarrel. When the rest would not listen, they movedaway and made their little plan in a whisper."
"And what was the plan?" inquired the bloodroot.
"Oh, they are wise little things. The others are going to have a'celebration' on Saturday, with a great deal of pie and cake and fuss. Ishall tell Mamma Spring to order up an east wind and freeze them well,little monsters! But my two are coming into the woods quietly to-morrowto search for flowers. I heard Charlie tell Winnie that she knew wherethe first May-flowers always come out, and they would look there. Weknow too, don't we? In the hollow behind the beech-wood, on the southbank."
"They're not there yet," said the columbine, yawning.
"No, but they're all packed and ready," said the lilac hepatica. "Do letus telegraph them to start at once. I somehow feel as if I should liketo please Blossom too."
So the trillium, who was telegraph operator, stooped down and dragged upa thread-like root, fine as wire.
"What is the message?" he asked.
"Be--in--flower--by--to-morrow--noon--for--Charlie--and--Winnie,"dictated the hepatica. "Precisely ten words."
"All right," responded the bloodroot, with his fingers on the wire. Tap,tap, ta
p, tap, tap; the message was sent, and presently came ananswering vibration.
"All right. We are off." It was the reply of the May-flowers.
"What a fine thing is the telegraph!" sighed a sentimental sand-violet,while the hepatica rubbed her little lilac palms gleefully, andexclaimed,--
"I flatter myself that job is as good as done. Hurrah for QueenBlossom!"
The other girls did not notice Winnie and Charlie particularly next dayas they stole from the rest and crept away almost on tiptoe to the southbank, where the arbutus _might_ be in bloom. Drifted leaves hid thebottom of the hollow. At first sight there was no promise of flowers;but our little maids were too wise to be discouraged. Carefully theypicked their way down, brushed aside the brown leaves, and presently ashriek from both announced discovery.
"Oh, the darlings!" cried Winnie.
There they were, the prompt, punctual May-flowers, so lately arrivedthat only half their leaves were uncurled, and the dust of travel stilllay on their tendrils. For all that, they were not too tired to smile atthe happy faces that bent over them as the little girls lifted the leafblankets and gently drew them from their hiding-place. Pale buds winkedand brightened; the fuller flowers opened wide pink eyes; all shooktheir ivory incense-bottles at once, and sent out sweet smells, whichmixed deliciously with the fragrance of fresh earth, of moving sap, andsun-warmed mosses.
"Shouldn't you think they had come out on purpose?" said Winnie, kissingone of the pinkest clusters.
"We did! we did!" cried the May-flowers in chorus. But the children didnot understand the flower-language, though the flowers knew well whatthe children said. Flowers are very clever, you see; much cleverer thanlittle girls.
Winnie and Charlie hid their treasures in a tin dinner-pail, pouring ina little water to keep them fresh, and carefully shutting the lid. Theydid not want to have their secret found out.
Going home, they met the others, looking somewhat disconsolate.
"Where _have_ you been?" they cried. "We looked everywhere for you."
"Oh, in the woods," said Winnie, while Charlie asked,--
"Did you find any flowers?"
"Not one," cried Arabella, crossly; "the spring is so late; it's ashame. Carrie Briggs is chosen Queen, and Miriam Gray is going to lendus some paper flowers for the crown. They will do just as well."
"Paper flowers!" began Charlie, indignantly; but Winnie checked her, andpretty soon their path turned off from that of the others.
"Come early to-morrow and help us make the throne," called out Marianne.
"We can't: we've got something else to do," called back Charlie.
"What?"
"We're going to see Blossom."
"Oh, pshaw! Do let that everlasting Sarah Jane alone, and come and havea good time," screamed Arabella after them.
Winnie laughed and shook her head. The others went on.
Blossom lay in bed next morning. She always lay in bed now, and it waspitiful to see what a pale blossom she had become. Only a year beforeher cheeks had been rosier, her limbs more active, than those of any ofthe children who daily passed her window on their way to school. Oneunlucky slip on the ice had brought all this to an end, and now thedoctor doubted if ever she could get up and be well and strong as sheused to be. The pretty name, given in her days of babyhood, soundedsadly now to the parents who watched her so anxiously; but no name couldbe too sweet, her mother thought, for the dear, patient child, who boreher pain so brightly and rewarded all care and kindness with such bravesmiles. Blossom she was still, though white and thin, and Blossom shewould always be, although she might never bloom again as once she did,until set in the Lord's garden, where no frosts come to hurt theflowers.
"Happy May-day," she said, as her mother came in. "I wonder what thegirls are doing. Winnie didn't come yesterday. I don't even know who isto be Queen. Have you heard, mamma?"
"I shouldn't think they'd want to have any Queen on such a cold day asthis," replied mamma. "Look how the boughs are blowing in the wind. Itfeels like March out doors."
"Oh, they're sure to want a Queen," said Blossom. "May-day is such fun.I used to like it better than any day in the year."
"Somebody wants to spake to ye, ma'am, if you pl'ase," said Norah,putting her head in at the door.
"Very well. Blossom, dear, you don't mind being left alone for aminute?"
"Oh no, indeed. I've such a nice book here." But Blossom did not openher book after mamma went away, but lay looking out of the window towhere the elm-boughs were rocking in the wind. Her face grew a littlesad.
"How nice it used to be!" she said to herself.
Just then she heard a queer noise in the entry--drumming, and somethingelse which sounded like music. Next, the door opened, and a processionof two marched in. Charlie was the head of the procession. She wore apink-and-white calico, and tied about her neck with a pink string wasWillie Smith's drum, borrowed for the occasion. Winnie, in her best bluegingham, brought up the rear, her mouth full of harmonica. Winnie alsocarried a flat basket, covered with a white napkin, and the two girlskept step as they marched across the room to Blossom's bedside, who layregarding them with eyes wide open from amazement.
"Happy May-day, Queen Blossom," sang Charlie, flourishing herdrumsticks.
"Happy May-day, Queen Blossom," chimed in Winnie, taking the harmonicafrom her mouth.
"Happy May-day," responded Blossom.
"But--how funny--what do you call me Queen Blossom for?"
"Because you _are_ Queen, and we have come to crown you," repliedCharlie. Then she laid down the drumsticks, lifted the white napkin, andin a solemn tone began to repeat these verses, which she andWinnie--with a little help from somebody, I guess--had written theevening before.
Never mind who the others choose; You are the Queen for us; They're welcome to their paper flowers And fuss.
We bring our Queen a wreath of May, And put it on her head, And crown her sweetest, though she lies In bed.
These flowers, dear Blossom, bloomed for you, The fairest in the land; Wear them, and give your subjects leave to kiss Your hand.
Charlie finished the verses with great gravity. Then, drawing theMay-wreath from the basket, she put it on Blossom's head, after which,instead of kissing the royal hand, according to programme, she clappedboth her own and began to dance about the bed exclaiming,--
"Wasn't that nice? Aren't they pretty? We made them up ourselves--Winnieand I. Why, Blossom, you're crying."
In fact, Queen Blossom _was_ crying.
It was only a very little cry--just a drop or two, with a rainbow tofollow. In another minute Blossom had winked the tears away, and wassmiling brightly.
"I didn't mean to cry," she exclaimed, "only I was so surprised. Ithought you would all be busy to-day, and nobody would come. I neverdreamed that I should be made Queen of the May again. How kind you are,dear Charlie and Winnie, and where _did_ you get the flowers--realMay-flowers? Nobody has begun to look for them yet."
"They came out on purpose for you," persisted Charlie; and the May-budssmiled and nodded approvingly as she said so.
Next, Winnie opened her basket, and behold! a cake, with white icing,and in the middle a pink thing meant for a crown, but looking more likea cuttle-fish, because of the icing's having melted a little. Mrs. Bokerhad stayed up late the night before to bake and ice this May-day loaf.She, too, loved Blossom, and it pleased her that Winnie should plan forthe enjoyment of her sick friend.
A knife was brought, and slices cut. Blossom lay on her pillows,nibbling daintily, as befits a Queen. Her subjects, perched on the bed,ate with the appetite of commoners. The sun struggled out, and, in spiteof the east wind, sent a broad yellow ray into the window. Blossom'sMay-wreath made the air delicious; there could not have been found amerrier party.
"Please, dear Duchess, take off my crown for a minute," said Blossom,with a pre
tty air of command.
The Duchess, otherwise Charlie, obeyed, and laid the wreath on thecoverlet just under the royal nose.
"How lovely, lovely, lovely it is!" said Blossom, with a long sigh ofdelight.
"The sun is streaming exactly into your eyes, dear," said her mother.
She opened the window to close the shutter. A sharp, sudden gust of windblew in, and mamma pulled the sash down quickly lest Blossom should bechilled. Nobody noticed that one of the May-flowers, as if watching itschance, detached itself from the wreath, and flew out of window on theback of the interloping wind. But it did.
The wind evidently knew what was expected of it, for it bore theMay-flower along to the woods, and laid it on the brown earth in acertain sunny spot. Then, like a horse released from rider, it prancedaway, while the flower, putting her pink lips to the ground, called in atiny voice,--
"Hepatica--Hepsy dear, are you there?"
"Yes; what is it?" came back an answering voice, which sounded veryclose. It was the voice of the lilac hepatica. She and her companionswere much nearer the surface than they had been two days before.
"It has all gone off so nicely," went on the May-blossom. "We were therein time, and I must say I never saw nicer children than that Winnie andCharlie. They picked us so gently that it scarcely hurt at all. As forBlossom, she's a little dear. Her eyes loved us, and how tenderly shehandled our stems. I really wanted to stay with her, only I had such agood chance to go, and I thought you would all want to hear. It was thenicest May-day party I ever saw."
"More--tell us more," said the underground flowers.
"There is no more to tell," replied the May-flower, faintly. "It is coldout here, and I am growing sleepy. Good-night."
After that there was silence in the woods.
Winnie and Charlie never knew how the dear little flower-people hadconspired to make their May-day happy. Perhaps Blossom guessed, for whenshe laid aside her wreath that night she kissed the soft petals, whichhad begun to droop a little, and whispered gently,--
"Thank you, darlings."