The trees and plants chose homes for themselves. The oak said, "I will live in the broad fields and by the roads, and travelers may sit in my shadow." "I shall be contented on the waters of the pond," said the water-lily. "And I am contented in the sunny fields," said the daisy.
"My fragrance shall rise from beside some mossy stone," said the violet.
Each plant chose its home where it would be most happy and contented.
There was one little plant, however, that had not said a word and had not chosen a home. This plant was the heather. She had not the sweet fragrance of the violet, and the children did not love her as they did the daisy. The reason was that no blossoms had been given to her, and she was too shy to ask for any.
"I wish there was some one who would be glad to see me," she said; but she was a brave little plant, and she did her best to be contented and to look bright and green.
One day she heard the mountain say, "Dear plants, will you not come to my rocks and cover them with your brightness and beauty? In the winter they are cold, and in the summer they are stung by the sunshine. Will you not come and cover them?"
"I cannot leave the pond," cried the water-lily.
"I cannot leave the moss," said the violet.
"I cannot leave the green fields," said the daisy.
The little heather was really trembling with eagerness. "If the great, beautiful mountain would only let me come!" she thought, and at last she whispered very softly and shyly, "Please, dear mountain, will you let me come? I have not any blossoms like the others, but I will try to keep the wind and the sun away from you."
"Let you?" cried the mountain. "I shall be contented and happy if a dear little plant like you will only come to me."
The heather soon covered the rocky mountain side with her bright green, and the mountain called proudly to the other plants, "See how beautiful my little heather is!" The others replied, "Yes, she is bright and green, but she has no blossoms."
Then a sweet, gentle voice was heard saying, "Blossoms you shall have, little heather. You shall have many and many a flower, because you have loved the lonely mountain, and have done all that you could to please him and make him happy." Even before the sweet voice was still, the little heather was bright with many blossoms, and blossoms she has had from that day to this.
HOW FLAX WAS GIVEN TO MEN.
"You have been on the mountain a long time," said the wife of the hunter.
"Yes, wife, and I have seen the most marvelous sight in all the world,"
replied the hunter.
"What was that?"
"I came to a place on the mountain where I had been many and many a time before, but a great hole had been made in the rock, and through the hole I saw--oh, wife, it was indeed a wonderful sight!"
"But what was it, my hunter?"
"There was a great hall, all shining and sparkling with precious stones. There were diamonds and pearls and emeralds, more than we could put into our little house, and among all the beautiful colors sat a woman who was fairer than they. Her maidens were around her, and the hall was as bright with their beauty as it was with the stones. One was playing on a harp, one was singing, and others were dancing as lightly and merrily as a sunbeam on a blossom. The woman was even more beautiful than the maidens, and, wife, as soon as I saw her I thought that she was no mortal woman."
"Did you not fall on your knees and ask her to be good to us?"
"Yes, wife, and straightway she said: "Rise, my friend. I have a gift for you. Choose what you will to carry to your wife as a gift from Holda.""
"Did you choose pearls or diamonds?"
"I looked about the place, and it was all so sparkling that I closed my eyes. "Choose your gift," she said. I looked into her face, and then I knew that it was indeed the G.o.ddess Holda, queen of the sky. When I looked at her, I could not think of precious stones, for her eyes were more sparkling than diamonds, and I said: "O G.o.ddess Holda, there is no gift in all your magic hall that I would so gladly bear away to my home as the little blue flower in your lily-white hand.""
"Well!" cried the wife, "and when you might have had half the pearls and emeralds in the place, you chose a little faded blue flower! I did think you were a wiser man."
"The G.o.ddess said I had chosen well," said the hunter. "She gave me the flower and the seed of it, and she said, "When the springtime comes, plant the seed, and in the summer I myself will come and teach you what to do with the plant.""
In the spring the little seeds were put into the ground. Soon the green leaves came up; then many little blue flowers, as blue as the sky, lifted up their heads in the warm sunshine of summer. No one on the earth knew how to spin or to weave, but on the brightest, sunniest day of the summer, the G.o.ddess Holda came down from the mountain to the little house.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "SHE GAVE ME THE FLOWER"]
"Can you spin flax?" she asked of the wife.
"Indeed, no," said the wife.
"Can you weave linen?"
"Indeed, no."
"Then I will teach you how to spin and to weave," said the good G.o.ddess.
"The little blue flower is the flax. It is my own flower, and I love the sight of it."
So the G.o.ddess sat in the home of the hunter and his wife and taught them how to spin flax and weave linen. When the wife saw the piece of linen on the gra.s.s, growing whiter and whiter the longer the sun shone upon it, she said to her husband, "Indeed, my hunter, the linen is fairer than the pearls, and I should rather have the beautiful white thing that is on the gra.s.s in the sunshine than all the diamonds in the hall of the G.o.ddess."
WHY THE JUNIPER HAS BERRIES.
Three cranberries once lived together in a meadow. They were sisters, but they did not look alike, for one was white, and one was red, and one was green. Winter came, and the wind blew cold. "I wish we lived nearer the wigwam," said the white cranberry timidly. "I am afraid that Hoots, the bear, will come. What should we do?"
"The women in the wigwam are afraid as well as we," the red cranberry said. "I heard them say they wished the men would come back from the hunt."
"We might hide in the woods," the green cranberry whispered.
"But the bear will come down the path through the woods," replied the white cranberry.
"I think our own meadow is the best place," the red cranberry said. "I shall not go away from the meadow. I shall hide here in the moss."
"I am so white," the white cranberry wailed, "that I know Hoots would see me. I shall hide in the hominy. That is as white as I."
"I cannot hide in the hominy," said the green cranberry, "but I have a good friend in the woods. I am going to ask the juniper-tree to hide me.
Will you not go with me?" But the red cranberry thought it best to stay in the moss, and the white cranberry thought it best to hide in the hominy, so the green cranberry had to go alone to the friendly juniper-tree.
By and by a growling was heard, and soon Hoots himself came in sight. He walked over and over the red cranberry that lay hidden in the moss. Then he went to the wigwam. There stood the hominy, and in it was the white cranberry, trembling so she could not keep still.
"Ugh, ugh, what good hominy!" said Hoots, and in the twinkling of an eye he had eaten it up, white cranberry and all.
Now the red cranberry was dead, and the white cranberry was dead, but the little green cranberry that went to the juniper-tree had hidden away in the thick branches, and Hoots did not find her. She was so happy with the kind-hearted tree that she never left it, and that is the reason why the juniper-tree has berries.