“I wish they would help me,” sighed his Majesty; “all my subjects are getting so unruly that I don’t know but what there will be a revolution, and they’ll put some one else on the throne.” “Who else could they find?” asked the Queen curiously. “Oh, I’m not certain of that,” replied the King. “You see, my grandfather, who was the first of our dynasty, ascended the throne by the help of the faeries, and the king who was deposed vanished, but they say some of his descendants live there;” and he pointed downward to the city. “And there they will stay,” said the Queen angrily. “I don’t believe a word of it. Faeries indeed! they don’t exist.” “But they do,” persisted the King. “Pooh!” replied her Majesty. “Pooh!” Now, when the Queen said “Pooh!” her husband knew it was no use talking any more, so he retired to his cabinet to look over some petitions from starving people, while the Queen went down with the ladies-in-waiting to walk in the garden. It was really a delightful garden, filled with the most wonderful flowers. There were great beds of scented carnations, glowing with bright colours, red and white foxgloves, in whose deep bells the faeries were said to hide, masses of snowy white lilies, and a great mixture of marigolds, hollyhocks, sweet-williams, daisies, buttercups, and dahlias, which made the whole ground look like a brightly-coloured carpet. And as for the roses—oh, what a quantity of charming roses there were growing there! Red roses, varying in colour from a deep scarlet to a pale pink; white roses looking like snowflakes; yellow roses that glittered like gold, and faintly-tinted tea-roses that perfumed the still air with their sweet odours. Oh, it was really a famous garden, and bloomed all the year round, for the kingdom was situated in the region of perpetual summer, where snow never fell and frost never came. The Queen, whose name was Flora, wandered disconsolately about the garden, quite discontented with the beautiful flowers, because she could not obtain the wish of her heart. The ladies-in-waiting began to pluck flowers in order to adorn the royal dinner-table, and Queen Flora walked on alone towards a great white rose tree that was covered with blossoms. As she stood looking at it, she suddenly heard a tiny laugh, and a great white rose unfolded its petals, showing a golden heart, and also a dainty little faery dressed in delicate green leaves, with a crown of little white rosebuds, and a wand made of a blade of grass. When the Queen saw her, she was much astonished, because she did not believe in faeries, but, now she really saw one, she had to believe her own eyes. “I am called Rosina,” said the faery in a sweet, low voice, “and I heard you say you did not believe faeries existed; now you see they do, because I am a faery.” “Yes, you must be a faery,” replied the Queen, clasping her hands, “because no human being could be so small.”