How The Flowers Came
by
Ever so many years ago the world was as bare and gray as the roads. The Earth King grew very tired of it, and covered the ground with a carpet of green. We call it grass. For years and years there was nothing but green, until the Earth King grew as tired of the green as he had been of the gray. He decided that he must have more colors. So one day he took his royal retinue and journeyed to a hillside where he knew there grew the finest grasses in all the kingdom. At the blast of the King’s bugler the grasses assembled, and the King addressed them in simple words.
“My faithful grasses,” he said. “It is many years since I placed you here. You have served me well. You have kept true green. It now pleases me to announce to you that I am about to reward a certain number of you and make you lords and ladies of the field. To-morrow I shall come hither at this same hour. You are to assemble before me, and the fairest of your number and the most pleasing I will honor with a great and lasting reward. Farewell.”
How the grasses whispered and put their heads together then as a breeze crept up the hillside! They arose next morning before the sun, that they might wash their ribbons in the gleaming pearls of dew. What prinking and preening! What rustling of ruffles and sashes! What burnishing of armor and spears! At length the King’s bugle rang out to call them into grand assembly. Full of excitement, they stood before the King, each hoping that he might be chosen for one of the great honors.
The King greeted them as he had on the previous day, but he said,
“In this Court of Judgment I must have willing servants to help me. First, I must have a keeper of the gate so that no outsider may enter. Which one of this host will be keeper of the gate?”
Not a man-grass stirred in his tracks, for each feared that if he became a servant of the King he would lose his chance to be a lord.
“Which one?” asked the King again. “Which one will volunteer to keep the gate for me?”
At this moment a sturdy grass was seen coming down the hillside. He was not handsome, but he was strong. His shoulders were broad, and his chest was deep, and he was armed to the teeth. Spear points stuck from every one of his pockets, and in each hand he carried a lance as sharp as lightning.
“Let the others wait for their honors,” he thought, as he said,
“I will serve the King.”
“So be it,” said the King. “Take your station at the gate. And now,” continued the King, “I must have a herald to announce my awards and my commands. Who will be my herald?”
Again there was silence among the man-grasses, until at last one was seen to advance. He was short and round and smiling, as happy a grass as grew on the hill. He came before the King as fast as his short legs could carry him.
“So it please the King,” he said. “I will be his royal herald.”
“So be it,” said the King. “Stand here at my feet.”
“Two torch-bearers I need,” the King went on, “two torch-bearers, tall and comely, to hold the lights on high. Who will serve the King as torch-bearers?”
And now there was silence and stiffness among the lady-grasses as each feared to lose her chance to be given a title, and waited for the others. At last two slender grass-maidens advanced with glowing faces but reluctant step. They were not as beautiful as some of their sisters. Their ribbons were few and some of them were frayed. They scarcely expected the King to accept them, but they meekly offered themselves, as they said,