“ Poor flowers are quite dead，” said little Ida， “theywere so pretty yesterday evening， and now all theleaves are hanging down quite withered. What dothey do that for，” she asked， of the student whosat on the sofa; she liked him very much， he couldtell the most amusing stories， and cut out theprettiest pictures; hearts， and ladies dancing，castles with doors that opened， as well as flowers;he was a delightful student. “Why do the flowerslook so faded to-day?” she asked again， andpointed to her nosegay， which was quite withered.
“Don't you know what is the matter with them?” said the student. “The flowers were at aball last night， and therefore， it is no wonder they hang their heads.”
“But flowers cannot dance?” cried little Ida.
“Yes indeed， they can，” replied the student. “When it grows dark， and everybody isasleep， they jump about quite merrily. They have a ball almost every night.”
“Can children go to these balls?”
“Yes，” said the student， “little daisies and lilies of the valley.”
“Where do the beautiful flowers dance?” asked little Ida.
“Have you not often seen the large castle outside the gates of the town， where the kinglives in summer， and where the beautiful garden is full of flowers? And have you not fed theswans with bread when they swam towards you? Well， the flowers have capital balls there，believe me.”
“I was in the garden out there yesterday with my mother，” said Ida， “but all the leaveswere off the trees， and there was not a single flower left. Where are they? I used to see somany in the summer.”
“they are in the castle，” replied the student. “You must know that as soon as the king andall the court are gone into the town， the flowers run out of the garden into the castle， andyou should see how merry they are. The two most beautiful roses seat themselves on thethrone， and are called the king and queen， then all the red cockscombs range themselves oneach side， and bow， these are the lords-in-waiting. After that the pretty flowers come in，and there is a grand ball. The blue violets represent little naval cadets， and dance withhyacinths and crocuses which they call young ladies. The tulips and tiger-lilies are the old ladieswho sit and watch the dancing， so that everything may be conducted with order andpropriety.”
“But，” said little Ida， “is there no one there to hurt the flowers for dancing in the king'scastle?”
“No one knows anything about it，” said the student. “The old steward of the castle， whohas to watch there at night， sometimes comes in; but he carries a GREat bunch of keys，and as soon as the flowers hear the keys rattle， they run and hide themselves behind the longcurtains， and stand quite still， just peeping their heads out. Then the old steward says， 'Ismell flowers here，' but he cannot see them.”
“Oh how capital，” said little Ida， clapping her hands. “Should I be able to see theseflowers?”
“Yes，” said the student， “mind you think of it the next time you go out， no doubt youwill see them， if you peep through the window. I did so to-day， and I saw a long yellow lilylying stretched out on the sofa. She was a court lady.”
“Can the flowers from the Botanical Gardens go to these balls?” asked Ida. “It is such adistance!”
“Oh yes，” said the student “whenever they like， for they can fly. Have you not seen thosebeautiful red， white. and yellow butterflies， that look like flowers? They were flowers once.They have flown off their stalks into the air， and flap their leaves as if they were little wings tomake them fly. Then， if they behave well， they obtain permission to fly about during theday， instead of being obliged to sit still on their stems at home， and so in time their leavesbecome real wings. It may be， however， that the flowers in the Botanical Gardens have neverbeen to the king's palace， and， therefore， they know nothing of the merry doings at night，which take place there. I will tell you what to do， and the botanical professor， who lives closeby here， will be so surprised. You know him very well， do you not? Well， next time you gointo his garden， you must tell one of the flowers that there is going to be a grand ball at thecastle， then that flower will tell all the others， and they will fly away to the castle as soon aspossible. And when the professor walks into his garden， there will not be a single flower left.How he will wonder what has become of them!”
“But how can one flower tell another? Flowers cannot speak?”
“No， certainly not，” replied the student; “but they can make signs. Have you not oftenseen that when the wind blows they nod at one another， and rustle all their GREen leaves?”
“Can the professor understand the signs?” asked Ida.
“Yes， to be sure he can. He went one morning into his garden， and saw a stinging nettlemaking signs with its leaves to a beautiful red carnation. It was saying， 'You are so pretty， Ilike you very much.' But the professor did not approve of such nonsense， so he clapped hishands on the nettle to stop it. Then the leaves， which are its fingers， stung him so sharplythat he has never ventured to touch a nettle since.”
“Oh how funny!” said Ida， and she laughed.
“How can anyone put such notions into a child's head?” said a tiresome lawyer， who hadcome to pay a visit， and sat on the sofa. He did not like the student， and would grumblewhen he saw him cutting out droll or amusing pictures. Sometimes it would be a man hangingon a gibbet and holding a heart in his hand as if he had been stealing hearts. Sometimes it wasan old witch riding through the air on a broom and carrying her husband on her nose. But thelawyer did not like such jokes， and he would say as he had just said， “How can anyone putsuch nonsense into a child's head! what absurd fancies there are!”