Twas the month of May. The wind still blew cold; but from bush and tree, field and flower, came the welcome sound,“Spring is come.” Wild-flowers in profusion covered the hedges. Under the little apple-tree, Spring seemed busy, and toldhis tale from one of the branches which hung fresh and blooming, and covered with delicate pink blossoms that were just readyto open. The branch well knew how beautiful it was; this knowledge exists as much in the leaf as in the blood; I wastherefore not surprised when a nobleman’s carriage, in which sat the young countess, stopped in the road just by. She saidthat an apple-branch was a most lovely object, and an emblem of spring in its most charming aspect. Then the branch wasbroken off for her, and she held it in her delicate hand, and sheltered it with her silk parasol. Then they drove to thecastle, in which were lofty halls and splendid drawing-rooms. Pure white curtains fluttered before the open windows, andbeautiful flowers stood in shining, transparent vases; and in one of them, which looked as if it had been cut out of newlyfallen snow, the apple-branch was placed, among some fresh, light twigs of beech. It was a charming sight. Then the branchbecame proud, which was very much like human nature.
People of every description entered the room, and, according to their position in society, so dared they to express theiradmiration. Some few said nothing, others expressed too much, and the apple-branch very soon got to understand that there wasas much difference in the characters of human beings as in those of plants and flowers. Some are all for pomp and parade,others have a great deal to do to maintain their own importance, while the rest might be spared without much loss to society.So thought the apple-branch, as he stood before the open window, from which he could see out over gardens and fields, wherethere were flowers and plants enough for him to think and reflect upon; some rich and beautiful, some poor and humble indeed.
“Poor, despised herbs,” said the apple-branch; “there is really a difference between them and such as I am. Howunhappy they must be, if they can feel as those in my position do! There is a difference indeed, and so there ought to be, orwe should all be equals.”
And the apple-branch looked with a sort of pity upon them, especially on a certain little flower that is found in fieldsand in ditches. No one bound these flowers together in a nosegay; they were too common; they were even known to grow betweenthe paving-stones, shooting up everywhere, like bad weeds; and they bore the very ugly name of “dog-flowers” or“dandelions.”
“Poor, despised plants,” said the apple-bough, “it is not your fault that you are so ugly, and that you have such anugly name; but it is with plants as with men,—there must be a difference.”
“A difference!” cried the sunbeam, as he kissed the blooming apple-branch, and then kissed the yellow dandelion out inthe fields. All were brothers, and the sunbeam kissed them—the poor flowers as well as the rich. The apple-bough had never thought of the boundless love of God, which extends over all the works of creation, overeverything which lives, and moves, and has its being in Him; he had never thought of the good and beautiful which are sooften hidden, but can never remain forgotten by Him,—not only among the lower creation, but also among men. The sunbeam, theray of light, knew better.
“You do not see very far, nor very clearly,” he said to the apple-branch. “Which is the despised plant you sospecially pity?”
“The dandelion,” he replied. “No one ever places it in a nosegay; it is often trodden under foot, there are so many ofthem; and when they run to seed, they have flowers like wool, which fly away in little pieces over the roads, and cling tothe dresses of the people. They are only weeds; but of course there must be weeds. O, I am really very thankful that I wasnot made like one of these flowers.”
There came presently across the fields a whole group of children, the youngest of whom was so small that it had to be carriedby the others; and when he was seated on the grass, among the yellow flowers, he laughed aloud with joy, kicked out hislittle legs, rolled about, plucked the yellow flowers, and kissed them in childlike innocence. The elder children broke offthe flowers with long stems, bent the stalks one round the other, to form links, and made first a chain for the neck, thenone to go across the shoulders, and hang down to the waist, and at last a wreath to wear round the head, so that they lookedquite splendid in their garlands of green stems and golden flowers. But the eldest among them gathered carefully the fadedflowers, on the stem of which was grouped together the seed, in the form of a white feathery coronal. These loose, airy wool-flowers are very beautiful, and look like fine snowy feathers or down. The children held them to their mouths, and tried toblow away the whole coronal with one puff of the breath. They had been told by their grandmothers that who ever did so wouldbe sure to have new clothes before the end of the year. The despised flower was by this raised to the position of a prophetor foreteller of events.
“Do you see,” said the sunbeam, “do you see the beauty of these flowers? do you see their powers of giving pleasure?”
“Yes, to children,” said the apple-bough.
By-and-by an old woman came into the field, and, with a blunt knife without a handle, began to dig round the roots ofsome of the dandelion-plants, and pull them up. With some of these she intended to make tea for herself; but the rest she wasgoing to sell to the chemist, and obtain some money.
“But beauty is of higher value than all this,” said the apple-tree branch; “only the chosen ones can be admitted intothe realms of the beautiful. There is a difference between plants, just as there is a difference between men.”