78 THE BOUQUET. 



clered if such another race inhabited the fair Earth, and gazing into 

 the shadowy woods endeavoured to discover their haunts — the 

 magic ring — never dreaming, O most innocent Alice ! that while 

 she looked for other beings, a youthful artist staid his ramble to 

 sketch from the opposite bank the lovely picture before him. As 

 thus she mused the soft air came to her laden with fragrance ; gradu- 

 ally a strain of far away melody stole upon her ear, the brook went 

 murmuring low and sweet at her feet, and Alice was asleep * * * * 

 but she had changed her position and gone to the other side of the 

 " huge oak tree," for there the blossoms grew more luxuriantly. 

 Sweet Violets, the pale Anemone, Wild Rose, and graceful Eglan- 

 tine, were blooming around, enclosed within a ring of the misty 

 brake, seeming with its long arms to encircle these gems of the 

 forest ; and as she looked upon their beauty again, the music came 

 ringing wild and clear till the bright flowers themselves seemed to 

 take up the chorus, and in small sweet voices sing praises to the 

 gentle Sun and mild dews. Alice looked up. The setting Sun was 

 casting a parting glory upon the tree tops, and when she looked 

 again upon the greensward a tiny and beautiful form stood beside 

 each blossom, while with one foot poised upon a Rose stood a being 

 more beautiful than aught human, and the Fairies bowed their 

 heads, when in silvery accents she spoke : — 



" Fair mortal, we have watched you through the long Summer's 

 day when you have visited our presence, and we know your love 

 for the young flowers. Have you never dreamed that the Fairies 

 and flowers are one ? and when they fade from the Earth for a 

 season, we unseen spirits, hover around the pillow of the young and 

 innocent, sending them sweet dreams of the future. We have each 

 our mission, and to those we love best we grant our peculiar gift ; 

 but to you, O tender daughter of a human race, we give the choice." 

 IShe paused, and a hundred sweet voices repeated the chorus. 



" I am the queen of beauty — my gift is the mantling blush upon 



