A SUN AND TWO LITTLE RAINBOWS 133 
hovering over the flowers. Only you would not see 
him, for you would not be able to see his wings—at 
least not properly—they would move so fast. What 
you would see, would be a little circle of hazy brown 
mist, and, right in the middle of it, a little sparkling 
sun, and on the other side, gleaming through the 
mist, two sweet little violet rainbows. Then all at 
once there would be a trail of light in the air, and it 
would all be somewhere else—another sun and rain- 
bows over another flower. Of course, really, a 
Humming-bird would have flown from one flower 
to another, but what it would look like would be a 
gleam of light—a sunbeam—with a jewel-flash at 
each end of it. 
Another Humming-bird—the Sappho Comet— 
is about the same size as the last one, and 
he is a lovely gleaming green, too—an emerald 
green, | think—on his head and neck and shoulders, 
but his throat is light blue—the colour of a most 
beautiful turquoise. But such a turquoise! There 
is no other one in the world that ever gleamed and 
flashed and sparkled in that way, because, you know, 
turquoises do not sparkle at all—at least nowhere 
else—it is not their habit. But I think that some of 
the very finest of them—at least the lovely colours 
that were in them—must have flown into that 
Humming-bird’s throat and begun to gleam and flash 
