THE MAKING OF THE OPAL
“Oh dear, oh dear!” cried all the fairies together. “The flowers are dead! What shall we do now?”
The Princess sat down among the dead flowers, and thought.
“I must have something that will not die,” she said at last, “something stronger than flowers. In my dark hair I must have something that will gleam and sparkle. I must have colour that will not fade, a dewdrop that will not melt, a spark of fire that will not go out.”
“Dear me!” said the fairies; and they said no more for some time, for they were thinking that the Dear Princess wanted a good deal.
After a time three of them began talking together all at once, as if a very good idea had suddenly come into their heads.
Then these three spread their wings and flew away. They flew far away from the Princess and her palace, far from the other fairies, up and up to the heights of the Crystal Mountain. Then each of them chipped off a little piece of the rock at the top of the mountain, and each, as he did it, laughed aloud gleefully. Then each little fairy tucked his chip of rock under his arm; and they all nodded to each other, still laughing, and spread their wings again, and flew of in different directions.
The first of the three, with his chip of rock under his arm, flew straight to the sea-shore. On the shore, close to the shining blue sea, there lived a very nice mermaid who was a great friend of the fairy’s. So he flew to her with the bit of crystal rock and said—
“Mermaid, mermaid, here is a chip from the Crystal
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