FLOWER PAINTIN IV

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 74, 24 September 1938, Page 24

FLOWER PAINTIN IV

day they lay in the ground, waiting for something to happen. And something did happen, for by and by they began to swell. Bigger they grew and,rounder and softer. One fine day several of them cracked open and the next day several more. From every crack a little white shoot pushed itself out, and from the top of each little shoot another litfre one peeped out. It pushed and grew and turned up and peeped through the top of the ground, for it wanted fresh air and sunshine. At last a long row of white shoots looked out through their hole in the ground. The sun looked down and saw them. "Dear me!" he said! "This won't da Go down. Sunbeams, anc| tell those shoots to change their colour." The Sunbeams came flying down. "You must change your colour, little shoots," they said. "Hurry up and tur.n green. The great sun cannot bear to see white shoots above the ground." The paling fence was angry. "The idea of the sun taking notice of such <common things," he said. "He has never yet sent a message to me, though I have been here quite two months. I hope the shoots are not going to grow talL They will hide me if they do." Now ihat is just what the shoots did. They grew taller every day; they sent out leaves and branches on every side; soon they stretched out waving hands towards the fence. "Please allow us to hold to you,"" they begged. "We are not strong enough to grow so tall alone." "No, don't you dare to touch me," he cried. THey turned themselves this way and that. They tried to cling to him, but he would not help them. "This is dreadful." they sighed. "Whatever shall we do?" Next day the gardener came He brought a hammer and nails and cord. He drove the nails into the fence and tied the cord up and down and across. Now the waving arms had something to cling to. The fence was so angry that it really couldn't, speak. "Then I'm to be hidden." tye thought. "So new and handsome as 1 am, tool The gardener must be mad." The sun shone; the birds sang; the green plants grew; only the fence was unhappy and cross. At last he was almost hidden from sight "O, well, it's everybody's loss." he said loudly—only' no one was listening. Buds formed on the plants. They burst open. Out sprang bright flowers like fairy boats fo sail on the summer winds. Rose, blue, purple, and lilac. How their soft colours glowed in the sunshine! Tiny, yellow-hatted ladies sat in each boat to spread the sails. They scattered scent about and invited the bees to afternoon tea. The tea was delicious, and the bees went away humming their thanks. The gardener came. A friend walked with him. "How beautiful your sweet-peas are," he said. "They make a splendid covering for the fence." "Yes, said the gardener. "The fence was necessary, but it was very ugly. Now the sweet-peas have made it beautiful." The fence heard the words. At last it understood and its foolish pride was broken. For a long time it stood thoughtful and silent. "Well, well," it said, slowly. "I have been very much mistaken. But if 1 can't be beautiful I can at least'be kind and friendly to those who are beautiful." From that day the paling fence and the sweet-peas stood happily .together.