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[Illustration: _The Fairy Violet's introduction to the Fire-King._]




  HOW THE FAIRY VIOLET
     LOST AND WON
      HER WINGS.

BY MARIANNE L. B. KER.

_Author of "Eva's Victory," "Sybil Grey," &c._

ILLUSTRATED BY J. A. MARTIN.

[Illustration]

          LONDON:
          GRIFFITH AND FARRAN, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD.

          1872.




HOW THE FAIRY VIOLET

LOST AND WON HER WINGS.


The Fairy Violet lived in the heart of a beautiful forest, where,
through the glad spring months, the sun shone softly, and the bright
flowers bloomed, and now and then the gentle rain fell in silver drops
that made every green thing on which they rested fresher and more
beautiful still. At the foot of a stately oak nestled a clump of
violets, and it was there the wee fairy made her home. She wore a robe
of deep violet, and her wings, which were of the most delicate gauze,
glistened like dew-drops in the sun. All day long she was busy at work
tending her flowers, bathing them in the fresh morning dew, painting
them anew with her delicate fairy brush, or loosening the clay when it
pressed too heavily upon their fragile roots; and at night she joined
the elves in their merry dance upon the greensward. She was not alone in
the great forest; near her were many of her sister fairies, all old
friends and playmates. There was the Fairy Primrose in a gown of pale
yellow, and Cowslip, who wore a robe of the same colour, but of a deeper
shade. There was the graceful Bluebell, and the wild Anemone, the
delicate Woodsorrel, and the Yellow Kingcup. The Fairy Bluebell wore a
robe the colour of the sky on a calm summer's day, Anemone and
Woodsorrel were clad in pure white, while Kingcup wore a gown of bright
amber. One day, as the Fairy Violet was resting from the noonday heat on
the open leaves of her favourite flower, a noisy troop of boys, just set
free from school, came dashing at full speed through the forest. "Hallo!
there is a nest in that tree," cried one, and he trod ruthlessly on the
violets as he sprang up the trunk of the ancient oak. The Fairy Violet
was thrown to the ground, with a shock that left her for a time stunned
and motionless. When she recovered, the boys were gone, and the flower
in which she had been resting lay crushed and dying on the ground.
Filled with tender pity at the sight, Fairy Violet hastened to tend her
wounded charge, taking no thought for her own injuries. "Dear Violet, be
comforted," she whispered softly, as she raised the drooping flower from
the ground; "I will try to make you well." Then she took her fairy
goblet and fetched a few drops of dew from a shady place which the sun
had not yet reached, to revive the fainting flower, and bound up the
broken stem with a single thread of her golden hair. But it was all in
vain, and the fairy, after wrapping an acorn in soft moss, and placing
it for a pillow beneath the head of the fast fading Violet, left it to
try her skill on the other flowers. A faint fragrance from the dying
flower thanked her, as she turned sadly away to pursue her labour of
love. It was not till she had raised and comforted all the drooping
flowers and bound up their wounds, that the Fairy Violet thought of
herself. Then she discovered that her delicate gossamer wings were
gone! Evidently they had been caught on a crooked stick as she fell to
the ground and torn violently off, for there the remnants now hung,
shrivelled and useless, flapping in the breeze. At this sight the
hapless fairy threw herself by the side of the now withered Violet, and
wept bitterly. When spring and the spring flowers were gone, and their
work was ended, Violet and her sister fairies had been wont to spread
their wings and fly back to fairy-land, to report to the Queen what they
had done, and to receive from her reward or blame, according as they had
performed their task well or ill. Now this happy prospect was over for
poor Violet. "I shall never see fairy-land again!" she murmured, and
wept anew at the thought.

The violets whom she had tended so lovingly were very sorry for her
grief, and shook their heads gently in the breeze, till their fragrance
filled the air, and stole softly round the weeping fairy. But though
they comforted, they could not help her. Presently she rose, and glided
swiftly through the tall grass, till she reached the flower where the
blue robed fairy was resting after her day's work.

"Oh, sister Blue Bell," she cried, "I have lost my wings! Where shall I
get another pair, that I may fly back to fairy-land with you and my
sisters when our work is done?" Then Bluebell shook her head
sorrowfully, till all her sweet bells chimed--"I am sorry! I am sorry!"
but she could not help her sister Violet.

"Perhaps Cowslip will know," she suggested.

But Cowslip bade her try what Woodsorrel would say, and Woodsorrel
thought perhaps Kingcup might know, so Violet went about from one to
another, till she was ready to cry again with vexation.

Then all the fairies gathered round her and tried to comfort her.

"Let us ask the owl that sits in the hollow oak," said the gentle
Anenome, gliding to Violet's side; "he must be very wise, for he never
smiles, and seldom speaks more than three words at a time."

So that night, when the moon lit her silver lamp in the sky, instead of
dancing, as was their wont, with the elves upon the greensward, they all
repaired to the hollow oak to seek an audience of the owl. They had to
repeat their errand two or three times before he understood it, for the
owl was as slow of understanding as he was of speech, and then, having
nodded his head solemnly for five minutes, and winked and blinked for
quite ten, he said solemnly:--

"Try the King of the Fire Spirits!"

After which he relapsed into silence, and obstinately refused to say any
more. Then the Fairy Violet bade farewell to all her friends, and set
out on her journey to the King of the Fire Spirits. She had a long way
to go, for the Fire-King held his court in the very centre of the earth,
and she might have lost herself in the dark passages had not the
glowworm lent her his lamp. She had saved him once when a hungry bird
would have carried him off in her beak, and from that time the glowworm
had loved the gentle fairy, and always burned brightest when she was by.

The Fairy Violet travelled very quickly, scarcely touching her feet to
the ground, but passing onward with a swift gliding motion that was very
beautiful; still it was three days and three nights before she reached
the kingdom of the Fire Spirits, for she had four thousand miles to go.

Had she not been a fairy, she must have been scorched to death as she
entered the Fire-King's domain, for the streets were paved with molten
iron, and flames kept bursting forth in all directions, in which she
could perceive strange wild figures, some leaping to and fro in mad
fantastic glee, playing at ball with lumps of burning coal; others
manufacturing volcanic fire in their monstrous furnaces.

They ceased their employment when they saw Violet, and came and knelt
before her in wondering admiration. She looked so beautiful as she came
floating towards them in her soft violet robe, with her fair hair
rippling in golden waves to her very feet, that they thought she must be
an angel who had strayed down from among the bright stars to their
gloomy dwelling-place, for