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LITTLE IDA’S FLOWERS.
“My poor flowers are quite dead,” said little Ida; “they were so pretty yesterday evening, and now all the leaves are hanging down quite withered. What do they do that for?” she asked, of the student who sat on the sofa. She liked him very much; he could tell the most amusing stories, and cut out the prettiest pictures; hearts, and ladies dancing, castles with doors that opened, as well as flowers. He was a delightful student. “Why do the flowers look so faded to-day?” she asked again, and pointed to her nosegay, which was quite withered.
“Don’t you know what is the matter with them?” said the student. “The flowers were at a ball last night, and therefore it is no wonder they hang their heads.”
“But flowers cannot dance?” cried little Ida.
“Yes, indeed, they can,” replied the student. “When it grows dark, and everybody is asleep, they jump about quite merrily. They have a ball almost every night.”
“Can children go to these balls?”
“Yes,” said the student, “little daisies and lilies of the valley.”
“Where do the beautiful flowers dance?” asked little Ida.
“Have you not often seen the large castle outside the gates of the town, where the king lives in summer, and where the beautiful garden is full of flowers? And have you not fed the swans with bread when they swam towards you? Well, the flowers have capital balls there, believe me.”
“I was in the garden out there yesterday with my mother,” said Ida, “but all the leaves were off the trees, and there was not a single flower left. Where are they? I used to see so many in the summer.”
“They are in the castle,” replied the student. “You must know that as soon as the king and all the court are gone into the town, the flowers run out of the garden into the castle, and you should see how merry they are. The two most beautiful roses seat themselves on the throne, and are called the king and queen, then all the red cockscombs range themselves on each side, and bow; these are the lords-in-waiting. After that the pretty flowers
