Part 24

"I think you'll have to tell us about it," laughed the Chief Gardener. "It's your turn for a story, anyway."

So then big Prue took them all out on the wide veranda, where they could watch the sunset, that came very late now, and there she told them

HOW THE ROSE BECAME QUEEN

"ONCE upon a time there was a very great garden that lay between two ranges of blue, blue hills. And the sky above was blue, as blue as the hills, so that you could hardly tell where the sky ended and the hills began, and underneath was the great, beautiful garden which covered all the lands between.

"And in this rare garden there were all the choicest flowers and fruit that the world knew, and when the flowers were all in bloom, under that blue, blue sky--in all the wonderful colors of gold and crimson, and royal purple, and with all the banks of white daisies, and all the sweet orchards of apple-bloom, there was nothing like it in the whole world, and the sweet perfume went out so far that sailors on the ships coming in from sea, a hundred miles away, could smell the sweet odors, and would say, 'The wind blows from the garden of the Princess Beautiful.' For I must tell you that the garden was owned by a great Princess, and she was called Beautiful by all who knew of her, and every traveler to that distant country made his way to her white marble palace to seek permission to look upon the most wonderful garden in all the world.

"And many who came there were of high rank, like herself, and some of them tried to win her love, for the Princess was like her name and as beautiful as the rarest flower in all that marvelous garden. But to princes and even kings she would not listen, for her heart and pride were only in her flowers, and she wished to remain with them forever and be happy in their beauty. She was only sad when she saw that some of those who came went away with heavy hearts because she would not leave her palace for theirs.

"Now once there came to the palace of the Princess Beautiful a great queen. She had traveled far to see the splendid garden, and when she came, the Princess led her with all her court among the flowers. And all that sunlit day, under the blue, blue sky, the great queen and her court lingered in the garden--up and down the paths of white shells, where hyacinths and lilies and daffodils and azaleas grew on every side--and rested in the shade of the blossoming orchard trees. And when it was evening, and they had gone, and the flowers were left alone, they whispered and murmured together, for never before had they seen a queen and her court.

"And by and by as the days passed, the flowers decided that they, too, must have a queen--some rare flower, fine and stately, whom they would honor, even as they had seen their beautiful Princess honor her royal guest. And night after night they talked of these things, but never could decide which of their number should be chosen for the high place.

"And then one day a great sadness came upon the fair garden between the hills. A young traveler from an unknown country had come to the white palace, and one sunny afternoon the Princess Beautiful had led him among the beds of primroses and lilies and daffodils. And when the sun was going down and she turned and looked into his face, and saw how fair he was, and how the sun made his hair like gold, how it shimmered on his beautiful garments of velvet and fine lace, she felt for the first time a great love arise within her heart. Then, all at once, she forgot her garden, her palace and her pride--forgot everything in all the world except the fair youth who stood there with her in the sunset--and she told him her great new love.

"And as she spoke, softly and tenderly, the words she had never spoken to any one before, the breeze died, and the sun slipped down behind the far-off hills. And then, as the light faded, it seemed to the Princess Beautiful that the fair youth before her was fading, too. His face grew dim and misty--his hair became a blur of gold--his rare garments melted back into the beds of bloom. And behold, instead of the fair youth there stood before her in the twilight only a wonderful golden lily with a crimson heart.

"Then the Princess Beautiful knew that because she had cared only for her garden, and had sent from her those who had offered a great love like her own, that this wonderful lily had come to her as a youth with a face of radiant beauty, and with hair of gold, to awaken a human love in her heart. And each day she mourned there by the splendid lily, and called upon it to return to her as the fair youth she had loved; and at last when its flowers faded and the stem drooped, the white palace of the Princess Beautiful was empty, for the Princess lay dead beside the withered lily in the rare garden between the hills.

"And there they made her grave, and above it they built a trellis where a white climbing rose might grow. But when the rose bloomed, instead of being white, it was a wonderful crimson, such as no one had ever seen before. And when the other flowers saw those beautiful crimson blossoms, they no longer mourned, for they said, 'This is our Princess Beautiful who has returned to be our queen.'

"And so it was the red rose became the queen of flowers, and a symbol of great human love. The poet Burns sings,

'My love is like a red, red rose That's newly blown in June,'

and it was always in June that the great crimson rose bloomed on the grave in the garden of the Princess Beautiful."

"And did the lily ever bloom again?" asked little Prue.

"I'm sure it must have done so. We always speak of roses and lilies as belonging together, and there is a great golden lily called the Superbus, which I think might have been the beautiful youth that came to the white palace."

"Does the story mean that we shouldn't care too much for our gardens?" asked Davy. "More than for folks, I mean?"

"Do you know, Davy," said the Chief Gardener, "I was just wondering about that, too."

III

THE SUN IS THE GREATEST OF ALL CHEMISTS

IT was about a week later, that one afternoon little Prue and Davy and the Chief Gardener were helping big Prue with her roses, and admiring all the different kinds. Little Prue had been thinking a good deal about roses since the story of the Princess Beautiful, and wondering just which of the climbing red ones had grown about her grave. Then she began to wonder about all the kinds, and how they came. She spoke about this now, as her mamma pointed out one which she said was a new rose--just offered for sale that year.

"Where did it come from?" asked the little girl, "where do new roses come from?"

"From seed," answered the Chief Gardener, "like the new peaches and apples I told you of. Roses belong to the same family, you know, and they are grafted much in the same way. Then the seeds are planted, and from these, fine new kinds are likely to come. Rose-growers are always trying hard to make new kinds by mixing the pollen. The pollen, you remember, is the yellow powder on the little tips of the stamens. These tips, as I believe I told you, are called anthers, and the slender part of the stamen is the filament. It is the pollen falling from the anthers upon the single green stem or pistil in the center of the flower that produces the seed. The pistil is divided in parts, too. The little top piece is called the stigma, and the slender green stem is called the style. The pollen falls on the stigma and is drawn down through the style to give life to the seed-pod below."

The Chief Gardener picked the bloom of a single bramble rose and pulled it apart to show the children all these things.

"Now," he went on, "gardeners often take a rose of one kind and color and shake it gently over a rose of another kind and color, so that the pollen will fall from the anthers of one upon the stigma of the other. In this way the seeds are mixed and it may happen that wonderful new roses come from those seeds. Sometimes, instead of shaking the rose, the gardener carefully takes up the pollen on a tiny soft brush and lays it gently on the stigma of the other rose, all of which has to be done as soon as the bloom is open. Of course, such roses are kept to themselves, and labeled, and the seeds are carefully labeled also."

Davy and Prue were both interested.

"Oh, can I make some new kinds of roses," asked little Prue, greatly excited. "Can I, Mamma?"