Part 10 (1/2)

Gretel lived to be very old, but she never lost her jewels. She was able now to show them to all the world without any danger of their flying away, and as time went on the people flocked to see her and her jewels.

Eitel admired them as much as any one, but he could never be persuaded that the fluffy pink things he had once seen had really turned into these s.h.i.+ning and wonderful stones.

_THE FAIRY WHO HAD ONLY ONE WING_

I am going to tell you now about a fairy who lost one of his wings. His home was in a white rosebud, which one would imagine to be a nice, safe, comfortable home for a fairy to have. And yet it was while he was in the white rosebud that the terrible accident happened which left him with only one wing.

All would have been well if he had stayed in the country. But one day a man came with scissors and snipped the white rosebud off the tree, and packed it in cotton-wool, and sent it off to London. Of course the fairy had to go too, and a very uncomfortable journey he had. There were a number of other flowers packed in the same box, and in each flower there was a fairy; so they were all able to grumble together. But you can't grumble with any real comfort when you are packed very tightly, and have to talk through a good deal of cotton-wool.

At last the journey was over, and the rosebud was taken out of the cotton-wool and put in water. Then the fairy crept up from the heart of the rosebud, and put his head over the edge of the petals and looked about him.

There were flowers all round him: flowers in pots, flowers in gla.s.ses, flowers lying on the table, flowers in baskets, and great bunches of flowers in the big window. The truth was that the rosebud was in a flower-shop, but he did not know this. He only knew that it was very pleasant to be again in a place that was full of flowers and fairies.

He thought he was going to enjoy himself; but that was because he did not know how cruelly fairies are sometimes treated in flower-shops. The people who arrange the flowers have a horrible way of trying to kill the fairies; and this is what they do. They take a dreadful, sharp piece of wire and poke it through the very heart of the flower, and then fasten it tightly round the stem! You will see at once that nothing is more likely to hurt a fairy than this. Indeed, he would certainly be killed, if it were not almost impossible to kill a fairy.

The little rosebud-fairy was lying comfortably curled up, deep down among the white petals of the rose, when suddenly he saw coming through the walls of his home a sharp glittering point!

”Oh dear!” he cried, trying to scramble out of the way.

But that was no use, the glittering point came nearer and nearer.

”Oh dear--oh dear!” he cried again. ”Where is it coming to? Oh--it's coming this way--the horrible thing. _Oh--oh--oh!_”

It was no wonder that he cried out. The dreadful wire had caught one of his beautiful gossamer wings, and dragged it, and torn it, till there was nothing left of it but some little shreds of fluttering gauze.

”What shall I do?” he wailed. ”How can I fly with only one wing, and what is the use of a fairy that can't fly? What shall I do?”

He picked up the torn pieces of his wing and wondered if he could mend them. But he soon saw that it was impossible, so he folded them up carefully and laid them inside the rose-petals; and ever afterwards there was a faint tinge of pink deep down in the heart of the rosebud.

For a long time, long after the rosebud had been tied up with a sprig of fern and put in the window, the poor little fairy went on moaning and sighing over the loss of his wing. He was still sighing when a little girl came into the shop. If the fairy had not been hiding among the petals of his rosebud he would have seen at once that she was the kind of little girl that the fairies always love; a little girl with bright eyes and a laughing face--altogether a very nice little girl. She pointed to the white rosebud and said--

”I want to buy that rosebud, please, for Granny's birthday.”

In another minute she was walking along the street with the rosebud in her fat hand.

Then the fairy crept up from the heart of the rose and looked over the edge of the petals. The little girl saw him at once and was not at all surprised.

”There you are!” she said. ”I wondered when you would look out. Of course I knew there was a fairy in the rosebud, or I wouldn't have bought it. It would have been no use, you see.”

”What a very nice little girl!” thought the fairy. ”She seems to have a great deal of sense.”

The little girl went on: ”Poor thing, I see your wing has been torn off.

That nearly always happens to the fairies that come from flower-shops.

But I dare say Granny won't mind. She sees very few fairies. I am going to leave you at Granny's house because it is her birthday. Now remember, you're to be very nice to Granny, because she sees so few fairies.”

By this time they had reached Granny's house. Granny lived all alone in a very splendid house in a great square. The house had a great many fine things in it: handsome furniture and valuable china and grand silks and brocades. But there was not a single fairy in it, and a house that has no fairies in it is a very dull place.