Natural history -- Juvenile literature; Seasons -- Juvenile literature
I told you that we are sad when we know that Summer is passing away; but
that is only because we love the Summer, with her gay flowers and fair
green clothes, and not because we do not like the Autumn. The Imp and
the Elf laugh at me when I tell them that all Ogres and Ogresses, all
people who are grown up and can never be Imps and Elves again, love the
Autumn and the Spring even better than the Summer herself. And then, to
make them understand, I tell them a fairy story, how, once upon a time,
Spring and Summer and Winter and Autumn were four beautiful little
girls. Winter wore a white frock with red berries in her hair; Summer
was dressed in deep green, with a crown of hawthorn and blue hyacinths;
and Spring had a dress of vivid green, the colour of the larches in the
woods, and a beautiful wreath of primroses and violets on her head;
while Autumn was only allowed Summer's old dresses when they were faded
and nearly worn out Autumn was very unhappy, for she loved pretty
dresses like every little girl. But she went about bravely, with a
smiling brown face, and never said anything about it. And then one day a
fairy Godmother, just like Cinderella's, came into the garden, and asked
to see all her little Godchildren. And Spring and Summer and Winter all
put on their best frocks and came to be kissed by her. But poor Autumn
could only tidy up Summer's old dress, which she did as well as she
could, and then came out after the others. But she was shy because she
knew that her dress was only an old faded one, and not so pretty as the
spick and span clothes of her sisters. So she hung back and was kissed
last of all. The Godmother kissed the others on the forehead, but when
she came to Autumn she saw that all was not quite well, and looked at
her very tenderly and said, "Tell me all about it," just as all the
nicest fairy Godmothers do. And Autumn whispered that she was sorry that
she was not looking as pretty as the others, but that she really could
not help it, because she had no frocks of her own.
[Illustration]
The Godmother laughed, and took her in her arms and kissed her on the
lips. And then the Godmother put her arm round Autumn's neck, and,
walking hand in hand, they went together down the garden under the
bending trees to the edge of the pond. "Look into the water, my dear,"
said the Godmother, and Autumn looked and knew that a magic had been
done, for her old faded dress was red and gold, and a rich gold crown
lay on her dark hair. And she turned to thank the Godmother, and found
that she had gone. She only heard a little laugh in the air, and then
she laughed, too, and went away singing happily over the green grass.
She has been happy ever since.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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