FLOWERS WAKING UP.
Flowers waking up
“Itmust be that spring has come,” said the Pansy, “or I should never feel so uneasy, and so very wide-awake. I’ve a great mind to put my head up out of the ground, and see. Hark! Yes, there are the birds. They are calling to the flowers. ‘Awake!’ they say, ‘awake, and come forth! There’s nothing to be afraid of now; for Old Winter has gone away. He can’t hurt you any more. Violet! Snowdrop! Pansy! Don’t stay down there any longer. We little birds are lonesome without you.’ Yes, birds, we are coming, and that right soon; for it is quite time the springwork was a-doing; and as old Goody Grass says, if some of us do not spring up, there will be no spring at all.
“Ah, how charming to breathe fresh air, and to be in the light! Why, I feel all alive, all astir! This warm sunshine thrills me through and through. ’Twas very dismal down there; but how light and cheerful it is up above! And here are all our old neighbors; come to spend the summer, I hope. Dear Violet, I’m so glad to see you! When did you come up?”
“Only just this moment, Pansy. When the birds began to call, I felt that we ought to start immediately. It is really very pleasant to be awakened by music; pleasant, too, to meet old friends once more. And, oh, how good it is to be alive! I have just your feelings, and cannot keep myself quiet. What is the charm that works upon us so?”
“I believe,” said Pansy, “that the great shining sun up there has something to do with it, in a way we don’t understand.—Ah! Neighbor Snowdrop, how do you do? No doubt, being so early a riser, you were one of the very first upon the ground.”
“Why, yes,” said Snowdrop, “I do make a practice of coming early. It seems as if the birds should have some one to welcome them back: it must be hard work singing to bare ground, after what they’ve been used to at the South. And, besides, my dreams were so unpleasant, that I was really glad to shake them off. Probably I slept too near the surface; for the terrible uproar above ground disturbed me, even in my sleep. I dreamed that a mighty giant was striding about, shaking the world to pieces; that he stampedupon the flowers; and was so cruel to the trees as to make them groan dreadfully. Once I half awaked, and shuddered, and said to myself, ‘Oh! what can be going on overhead?’ then fell asleep again, and dreamed that the whole beautiful earth was covered with something white and cold, and that a voice said, ‘Go up through the snow!’ to which I answered, ‘Oh! I’m afraid to go alone.’
“When I awoke, the voice seemed still saying, ‘Go up!’ Then I remembered the birds, and came, but came trembling; for the cold white snow was truly here, and I feared that dreadful giant might be real also. My good friends, did you have no bad dreams? and were you not disturbed by the tumult?”
“Not at all,” said Pansy. “When our mother told us the good Summer who loved us had gone, and that there was a dreadful old Winter coming, who would growl and pinch and bite, and that we’d better keep our heads under cover, then I went to sleep, and slept soundly. I haven’t heard any thing of all this rowdedow you say has been going on overhead, but, on the contrary, have had very charming dreams. I dreamed of being in a place where the sky was made up of the most beautiful colors,—purple, yellow, pale gold, and straw-color; and there were purple and yellow rainbows reaching down from the sky to me. At last I awoke, and heard the birds calling. Wasn’t that pretty? Now, little Violet, what did you dream?”
“In my dreams,” said the Violet, “the sky was all over blue,—a deep, beautiful blue. And I can’t tell you how it was,—the dream was a strange one,—but, while it lasted, this blue seemed to fall upon me,—tofall gently, as the dew falls; and with the blue came a delightful perfume. It was a very sweet dream.”
“Now I slept here quite accidentally,” said a young Sunflower, starting up; “but I, too, had my dreams. I dreamed of seeing something round and bright and glorious moving across the sky,—something which I so worshipped, so longed to be like, that, wherever it went, I never failed to turn towards it; and, in return for my worship, this glorious object sent me down floods of its golden light.”
“As for me,” said a Damask Rose-Bush, “I haven’t been to bed at all, but have slept standing; and in my dreams the sky was the color of the east just before sunrise, and every object seemed bathed in its lovely light. There was a fragrance, too, in the air about me, and whispers, very faint whispers, which sounded like this,—‘Love, love, love!’ and there were little winged boys hovering around.”
“Now I,” said the Woodbine, “slept leaning against the house, and my dreams were chiefly of climbing. Nothing would satisfy me but getting higher. And really the dream seems to have meant something. I have strange sensations: I feel active, restless. What has got into me, I wonder. It must be the sap. Well, here I go!”
The other dreams seemed to have meant something too: for the Snowdrop bore a flower the color of snow,—a pale, trembling blossom, that looked as if it were afraid old Winter would come back, and have a grab at it yet; and the Pansy’s flower was of the wondrous hues she dreamed of,—purple, yellow, andstraw-color; the Violet’s was blue, and shed around it a delicious perfume, like that which in her dream came down with the blue from the heavens.
The Sunflower grew up very tall, and produced a flower which always turned to the sun, from the time of his rising in the east to his setting in the west, and thus drew into itself such floods of golden light, that at last this devoted flower came to resemble somewhat the sun it worshipped.
The buds of the Damask Rose were used by lovers when they wished to tell their love in the most beautiful way; and no doubt they and those who received them heard whispers in the air like those the Rose-Bush dreamed of; and if they did not see the little winged boys,—why, they might have been there, for all that.
As for the Woodbine, it climbed till the house-top was reached, and, at last accounts, was still creeping up the roof.