The Land of the Blue FlowerBurnett, Frances Hodgson
Science
The Land of the Blue Flower
Burnett, Frances Hodgson
Fairy tales
"The people are making ready for your coronation," said the Ancient One.
"To-morrow you will be led in state down the mountain and acclaimed
King. It was to fit you to reign over your kingdom that I taught you to
know all the wonders of the world and have shown you that no thing is
useless but folly and dishonoring thought. That which you have learned
from your brothers here you go down the mountain to teach your brothers
there. You will see things which are not beautiful and those which are
unclean, but hold high your head when you walk, young King, and never
forget the sun, the wind, and the stars."
To himself as he looked on him the Ancient One said: "When he stands
before them they will think he is a young god."
The next morning a splendid procession wound its glittering way up the
mountain road to the castle. There were princes and nobles and
chieftains. Rich colors glowed in their attire and gorgeous banners and
pennants waved over them, while music from gold and silver trumpets
accompanied them as they rode and their many followers marched behind.
The Ancient One in his long robe of gray stood by King Amor on the broad
stone terrace guarded by its crouching carved lions.
"This is your King, O people!" he said.
And when the people looked it was as he had said it would be. They drew
back a little and gazed in fear, and many of the followers fell upon
their knees. They thought they saw a beautiful young giant and god. But
he was only a splendid and powerful young man who had never known a dark
thought and had lived near to his brothers the stars. His horse, adorned
with golden trappings, was brought and he was led down the mountain
side, through the gates into the capital city of his kingdom. He desired
that the Ancient One should ride by his side.
What he saw as he rode to the place of coronation he had never seen
before. Notwithstanding the embroidered silk and velvet hangings
decorating the fronts of the rich people's houses, he caught glimpses of
filthy side streets, squalid alleys, and tumble-down tenements. He saw
forlorn little children scud away like rats into their holes as he drew
near, and wretched, vicious-looking men and women fighting with each
other for places in the crowd. Sharp, miserable faces peered round
corners at him, and nobody smiled because every one hated or distrusted
his neighbor, and they dreaded and disliked the young King because all
the King Mordreths had been evil and selfish, and he was their
descendant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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