284 POPULAR TALES OF FLOWERS 
bending along, until it dwindled into a mere thread of 
silver as it was lost in the distance. 
On the brow of this beautiful hill a plain, mstic seat 
had been erected by the inhabitants of the cottage in the 
valley; and as there was no thoroughfare beyond what 
was traversed by the neighbouring villagers, who came 
morning and evening to milk the cows, which were heard 
lowing amongst the hilly fields, the summit, like the 
valley it overlooked, was seldom trodden by the foot of a 
stranger. 
And often on a summer’s evening, when the labour of 
the day was over, might the form of a lovely maiden be 
seen leaving that cottage, and climbing the steep ascent 
of the hill, carrying either a little work-basket on her 
arm, or a book in her hand, and every now and then 
pausing to look over the landscape as she threaded her 
way to the rustic seat. Sometimes she sent forth her 
voice in gushing music, which was prolonged and rever- 
berated through the dale, as if the echoes of the valley 
were her companions, and their only delight were to call 
to and answer each other. 
She sang from the very over joyousness of her heart, 
like a bird, perched amid a cluster of milk-white blossoms, 
that takes a delight in telling the trees, and flowers, and 
sunshine which hang around it, how great is the pleasure 
that fills its little heart, and how happy it is in the com- 
panionship of such sweet scenery : and should the form of 
a stranger appear, the golden chain of her melody was 
snapped asunder in an instant, and, like a bird, she would 
dart down to her little thatched nest in the valley below. 
Her modesty, and the sweetness of her voice, had ob- 
tained for her amidst the neighbouring villages the name 
of The Violet of the Valley. 
Those who know not the bliss which springs from con- 
tentment, might marvel how one so beautiful could rest 
satisfied by burying herself in such seclusion. They might 
as well have asked the Violet why it was so happy in the 
solitude which surrounded it, why it concealed its beauty 
amid the green leaves by which it was overhung, and 
scattered its sweetness upon “the desert air;” and the 
Violet might have replied that although the air which 
blew around it was deserted, yet many a breeze would 
