THE STORY OF THE IRIS 
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THE STORY OF THE IRIS. 
It was the festival day of the flowers. Every beauty from 
Flower Land flaunted her fair blossom in the clear sun- 
shine. Every plain but • useful plant sat demurely and 
reflected on her own importance. Every common, useless 
plant stood in honest wide-eyed admiration of the others. 
All were dressed in their very best. It was indeed a scene 
of wondrous beauty. It seemed a difficult thing for the 
judges to choose which was fairest. At the last moment 
there came breathlessly into their midst a new flower. 
Her robe was deep blue like the sky of twilight. It was 
as delicately shaded as the clouds of sunset. It was 
trimmed with fliffiy golden bands. It was jewelled wdth 
dewdrops from the pond. 
‘‘Who is this beautiful stranger?’’ asked the judges In 
a breath. And the beauties from Flower Land stared in 
surprise, knowing that the newcomer was more beautiful 
than they. But no one answered the question of the 
judges. No one knew the fair stranger in robes of blue. 
She did not speak for herself. For a moment there was 
silence at the festival of flowers. Then one of those wide- 
eyed, useless ones whispered in the judge’s ear : 
“Do you not see the rainbow colours of her robe?” 
she asked. “ Do you not see the rain-drops sparkling in 
the sunshine? Surely it is Iris, the rainbow messenger,. 
Look again at her gown ! ’ ’ 
“Iris! Iris!” whispered the flowers together. “Let us 
call her Iris the Beautiful!” 
So it was that every judge, every beauty from Flower 
Land, every plain but useful plant, and every common, 
useless plant, chose Iris for their queen of beauty. 
THE STORY OF THE PANSY. 
A MODEST floweret bloomed in the glade. So shy was 
she that she crept into the shadow of a tall leaf. Then 
she spread her blossoms. Soon there crept out from the 
shadows of the tall leaf an exquisite, delicate perfume. 
