AN OLDEN-TIME FANTASY

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1076, 13 September 1930, Page 31

AN OLDEN-TIME FANTASY

Margaretta was lonely—as lonely as an only child could be. one to ! play with, nothing to do but look at Mary Anne, her doll, all day. Perhaps it seems queer to you that she had nothing with which to amuse herself when it was springtime, but really it wasn’t queer, for she lived in those days, long ago, when little girls were seen and not heard, and had to sit stitching samplers so many hours a day. One fine spring morning Margaretta liacl been seized with a great longing to rise early and walk among the flowers and trees in her father's garden all by herself —not a soul knowing where she went. That morning a little figure crept down the hall, opened the door, and ! sped on light, slippered feet across the | lawn to the arbor. It was Margaretta, I and she had brought Mary Anne with her. But still she was lonely. She got j up from her seat in the arbor and ran ; down the path, out of vhe gate, and - down the lane —and then she stopped abruptly, for there, in front of her, was a high wall with a large green door. Margaretta wa» enthralled, and Mary Anne, who was in her hand, gave an impatient little kick, as if to say, “Let’s go in—come on.” And that’s just what her little mistress did do—she pushed open the door and found herself in a wilder - j ness of flowers. ! “Oh!” breathed Margaretta, rapturi ously, “what a beautiful place; what lovely flowers. It must be full of I fairies.” Mary Anne gave a kick in the affirmative. The garden really was beautiful. Violets were peeping from under bright green leaves; primroses were lifting up their pretty faces to smile at the world; bluebells were forming a car- ; pet with the daffodils and jonquils; ! wild anemones were nestling among the grasses; and, to crown all, almost every tree that grew in the garden was blossoming. “It must be full of fairies,” said Margaretta again, and again Mary Anne kicked. Margaretta walked down the path till she came to a pond as clear as crystal. She sat down, pulled off her slippers and stockings, and put her feet into the water. Oh, it was lovely! So cool! The little maid began to sing with Joy, 1 and, as she did so, she saw the reflection of a fairy forming on the surface of the pool. She gasped with surprise. “A fairy!” But Mary Anne gave a tiny, contemptuous kick, as if to say: “Why, didn’t you know? I knew all the time!” The fairy seemed to smile at Margaretta, and to greet her, and she smiled back, happily, in love with all the world and spring, forgetting her loneliness and the worries of her samoler. This picture passed through a poet’s mind, and he smiled and wrote a poem about it, which he put into a book for people to read. Lorna Finlay son (aged 11).