Parables from Flowers Part 10

'At last, at last!' she murmured. 'Oh, if my old acquaintances could but see me now, what would they say? I wish some of them were here.'

Not satisfied even yet! You see there is always an alloy in our greatest earthly pleasures or triumphs--always a something wanting. Yet so completely bewildered was she by this excess of gratified pride, that she knew not whither she was borne, until, when the delirium, for such it was, had pa.s.sed, she found herself in a place which her wildest imaginings never could have supposed possible--a wondrous gla.s.s palace, filled with the most gorgeous flowers of all tints and forms, some deliciously perfumed, making the air fragrant; whilst in the centre of this palace a fountain rose and fell with soothing murmurs, scattering its silvery spray upon exquisite blossoms that floated in the marble basin. It was almost too lovely, and our little wayside friend sighed with a sense of overpowering astonishment at the wondrous beauties around, beauties that dazzled her unaccustomed eyes. Her place, however, was upon one of the lower shelves, and above her head waved the feathery leaves of tropical plants, which throve wonderfully well in the heated atmosphere of this (to her) paradise.

Then she was left alone with her new a.s.sociates--alone! how much that word conveys!

After some time the other flowers became aware of a stranger having come among them, and a flutter (as much as such well-bred creatures deigned to evince) stirred their leaves and petals.

'What is she like?' asked a Maidenhair Fern, who from her position could get not even a glimpse of the new arrival.

'Is she elegant and refined?' inquired a Camellia languidly.

'Is she fair or dark?' questioned Tea-Rose, with a faint breath.

'It matters not to me what she is,' murmured Ice-Plant coldly.

'Where does she come from?' whispered Myrtle to her neighbour Cape Jasmine.

'From a hedgerow,' was the reply, but uttered so that all around her heard the answer.

'Only a Wild-flower!' was the general exclamation. 'What presumption to come amongst us!'

Then a chilling silence fell upon them all, except when they spoke to each other; but, after that unlucky explanation of her origin, it was as though they ignored her very existence--she was with them, still not of them.

And, strange to say, our little friend, who was so ready with words among her compeers, was completely silenced by these disdainful beauties, and, instead of replying, and holding, or rather maintaining, her position there, she shrank, as it were, abashed and ashamed of her lowly origin.

Was this the triumphant reception she had expected? Where was the homage her beauty was supposed to exact, and where the admiration of her manners and elegance generally? Ah me! she was only a little wayside blossom after all, pretty, it is true, and suited to the quiet hedgerow, but without the merits or the talents to raise her to a higher place.

Better far the humble friends, the lowly mossy bank where she had grown in peace and rest (save for her own unquiet ambition), than the grandeur and contempt which now were hers.

So day after day pa.s.sed on, and the florist who had brought her from the shady lane, hoping he had discovered a lovely and rare flower, saw with regret that his treasure was fading; the heated atmosphere of this splendid conservatory was too great for her to bear, and she was pining away for the fresh air and freedom of her old home; but, above all, she longed for the kindly if rough sympathy of her humble friends; the cold society of these exotics was gradually yet slowly killing her! In vain was the owner's care lavished upon her--it would not do; the delicate petals shrank up witheringly, the slender green leaves became shrivelled and dying, so in kindness he took her from the gorgeous palace, which she quitted gladly, without one sigh of regret, and carried her back to the shady lane, the once despised hedgerow, and carefully placed her in the very spot from which she had been taken.

It was the home for her!

Sadly she turned her dim eyes to the old friends around, who gazed upon the sorrow-stricken Flower pityingly and without reproach.

'I have returned to die,' she murmured. 'Ambition which has pure and holy aspirations is laudable in all; but I mistook pride for that which is more n.o.ble, and I am punished. Do not blame me,' she pleaded piteously, 'but give me your pity, and when I am gone, think with tenderness upon the poor little Wild-flower who knew, when too late, that her place was best and happiest when among the humble blossoms by the peaceful hedgerow!'

PARABLE NINTH.

THE HONEYSUCKLE AND THE b.u.t.tERFLY--HUMILITY AND PRIDE.

One early spring day, a little shoot of Honeysuckle was putting forth its tendrils low down on the ground at the foot of a quickset hedge. As yet it was but a weakly sprig, not knowing its own strength, nor even dreaming that it would ever rise far above the earth. Yet still it was very contented, drawing happiness from its lowly surroundings, happy in living, and feeling the warm sunshine kissing its fragile leaves.

Close by, there was a strange, dark, oblong ma.s.s, and the little Honeysuckle tried to imagine what it could possibly be, for it never moved, nor evinced emotion of any kind; and yet it was alive, because people would take it up, examine it, then put it down again, saying,--

'It is only a common Chrysalis!' But what _that_ was the Honeysuckle knew not.

At last, one day, when the sun was shining very brightly indeed, and the air was warm, and filled with the sweet breath of spring, to her great surprise she saw this peculiar object move, then by degrees the dark brown casing was cast aside, and she saw that it had wings!

'Why, what are you?' she questioned, in utter amazement at this marvellous transformation.

'Me!' he replied. 'Oh, I am a b.u.t.terfly, and you will see that very soon I shall become most lovely, such gloriously tinted feathers will deck my wings, all the world will be lost in admiration, I shall be so beautiful!'

'And will you let me see you then?' the meek little flower asked humbly.

'Oh yes! certainly you shall gaze upon me,' he answered, with a mighty air of condescension.

'But will you not always remain here?' she questioned, pleased at the idea of having so charming a neighbour.

'Dear me, no! I should think not, indeed. Why, I shall fly far away from this humble neighbourhood!' was his exclamation.

'What! and leave me?'

'Certainly! what else could you expect?' he replied. 'My ambition could not endure such a humdrum existence as yours; with these gay-coloured wings of mine I shall soar to higher realms, and be courted and caressed where'er I go!'

'Oh that I had wings like yours, or that you clung to earth!' sighed the tender-hearted Honeysuckle, who, from having been so long in close companionship with the dark, unsociable Chrysalis had actually grown to like him.

'Nonsense! what a ridiculous wish!' exclaimed the gaudy insect, who did not share his little friend's feeling of regard. 'Why, I should die if I were rooted to one place! I require a large sphere in which to move about; while as to you--I doubt if ever you will rise higher in the world than you are now.'

Not a kind remark to make, certainly, and it sadly grieved the humble flower to hear the b.u.t.terfly thus speak.

'And yet,' she sorrowfully mused, 'perhaps he is right; I know I am but a little green plant, very small, and very lowly, whilst he is so n.o.ble and beautiful with his gorgeous wings. Still, it is heart-rending to think I shall never rise above the sordid earth, always remain a mere groundling! But never mind,' she added more cheerfully; 'even groundlings can do good sometimes, so I'll take courage, and hope for the best.'

Not many days after this, the b.u.t.terfly called out joyfully to his little admirer,--

'Good-bye! good-bye! See! I have acquired my full beauty, so now I am off to entrance the world with my perfect loveliness! I _think_ I am an Emperor, though I am not quite sure; but there! people will soon appreciate me, and, of course, will acknowledge my claims to admiration.'

'And are you really going?' she asked sadly.

'Yes, of course! I am perfect now, and could not possibly stay _here_ any longer;' looking round contemptuously upon his humble surroundings.

'But I'll come and see you again, perhaps; _you_ are sure to be found in the same place!'

And away he flew with a mocking laugh; his gay wings fluttered merrily in the sunshine as he poised above the gorgeous garden flowers a while, then he sped away into distance, and was lost to sight, whilst the little Honeysuckle felt very lonely as she watched him disappear.

'Oh dear me!' she sighed; 'I feel rather sad now he has gone. It certainly must be very nice to rise a little in the world, not to be'--

'Take hold of my hand, my dear,' said a kind Bramble, who happened to hear the flower lament her lowly fate. 'I may perhaps be able to give you a lift up.'

'Oh, thank you very much,' was the response; 'but I fear your kindness would be thrown away, for I do not think I shall ever be more than I am at present.'

'One can never know, until he has tried, what may be done,' was the encouraging rejoinder. 'Look at me, for example! I am only what is called a Bramble, very much despised by some folks, no doubt; but then, who despises the fruit I bear? Why, every one likes the hardy blackberry, and I believe "by your fruit ye are known."'

'But I shall never yield fruit,' the Honeysuckle exclaimed; 'and as to flowers'--

'You are as yet only a green sprig of something--what I know not,'