After that he called his musicians and told them to set the lighting of Mount Fern to music, and this was the song that they sang: “Sparkle, burnished lanterns, Silver lanterns! What a lot of glowworms, Great and small; How your lights are shedding Forth their radiance, Over King and Captain-- And elves all!” After the music the King called Iris-Wing and asked him what flowers he grew in the garden. “Noble King,” said the flower-elf, “there are pansies, narcissi and roses, rosemary and rue, and daffodils, lilies and daisies, and violets blue.” “That is well,” said the King. “Is that all?” “Not at all,” said the elf. But just here Touchstone came forward and bowed down before the King and said: “Your Highness, may I be permitted to speak?” “You may,” said the King. “Noble King, there are blondes and brunettes in the garden.” “What! Blondes and brunettes, do you say?” “Yes, your Highness,” said Touchstone “the brunette is Black-eyed Susan, and Blue-eyed Mary’s the blonde.” “Ha! Ha!” laughed the King. “I see,” said he, “and what other strange plants do you grow?” “What is seen on the western sky at sunset,” answered Touchstone. “And what is that?” asked the King. “Golden-Glow,” said the elf. “That is bright,” remarked the King, “and what else do you grow in your garden?” “We grow animals, too, in the garden!” “What? Animals, too, in the garden!” “Yes, your Highness,” said Touchstone, “we grow the Bear-berry, the Tiger-Lily and the Dande-Lion!” “How true!” laughed the King, “and what next?” “A knave in church,” said the jester. “Very many, I fear,” the King agreed. “But what is yours?” “Why, Jack-in-the-Pulpit,” said he. “Ha! Ha!” laughed the King, “you’ve done well, and now I am most anxious to examine that wonderful garden of yours.” “Will your Majesty go to the garden _now_?” asked the flower-elf. “I will,” said the King. Then Captain Featherweight and Iris-Wing escorted the King all over the garden and grounds around Templeton Hall. And the King was delighted, and gave the Captain and the flower-elf much praise. “Yours is the best-kept garden I’ve seen in my travels,” said he, “and as a reward for your diligence, interest, and skill, I’ll give _you_, Iris-Wing, a girdle of gold.” Now in Elfland a golden girdle is scarcely ever worn except by the Captain of a Company. And to be presented with one was in itself a great honor; but to be presented with a golden girdle by the _King_ was a very great honor indeed! Then the flower-elf bowed low to the King of the elves, and made answer: “Your Highness, you honor me greatly.” “Arise,” said the King, “you are worthy. I’ll have the girdle designed by the Dwarfs of the Court, and you and the elves of Mount Fern will come there to receive it one year from today.”