NIMBLE, THE GNOME

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 258, 21 January 1928, Page 27

NIMBLE, THE GNOME

It is doubtful whether you have even heard of Nimble, the Gnome, and more than doubtful if you have ever seen him, yet Nimble is one of the most important people in the garden. In the heat of the day he sleeps under a strawberry leaf and a large spider has spun his web above it so that Nimble may rest undisturbed. When the children of the garden come near, lifting the leaves in search of the ripe, red fruit, they immediately say, “Oh, look. Come away. There’s a simply huge spider. Let’s go down this other end.” Nimble and the spider are the best of friends and at night, when the time comes for Nimble to begin his work, the spider taps three times on the strawberry leaf to rouse him from his slumbers. Then Nimble creeps cut, yawns, stretches himself, and picks up the thistle-down duster, that he uses for brightening all the flowers in th Q garden after the wear and tear of the day. But one night the spider let poor Nimble sleep in. Whether he was dreaming about the last fly that had flown into his web, or whether he was making new plans for the morrow, I do not know, but suddenly, Nimble heard three sharp taps, tumbled out of bed, and discovered, to his dismay, that it was nearly midnight. Luckily there was a moon, but the gnome was exactly four hours behind his usual time. Seizing his thistle-down duster, he immediately commenced work on a rose, hurriedly straightening each petal and flicking the dust from its surface. ‘‘l am very late to-night,” ho apologised. ‘‘l slept in.” “Oh, Nimble,” sighed the Rose, “we are all wilting after the heat of the day. The sun will be most displeased with us in the morning.” “It’s this dry weather,” said Nimble and passed briskly on to a clump of daisies. “Oh, Nimble,” they said, “you have been long in coming.” Me visited the snap-dragons next, a tall hydrangea bush, and a bed of drooping lilies, but, although he worked as ho had never worked before, the first glimmer of dawn found quite half the flowers in th© garden still untouched. Nimble wrung his hands. “Soon the sun will be here,” he cried in distress, “and this is the first time I have, failed him.” “Why, what is the matter?” asked the Dawn Wind, who was at that moment passing through the garden. So Nimble told him all about it. “Get back under your strawberry leaf,” said the Dawn Wind. “Wo shall soon remedy, that.” And away he went, But in a few moments he returned, driving before him a flying army of frightened clouds that had been sleeping in a dark, damp riest below the horizon. Patter, patter, patter cam© the rain, and every flower was washed clean. Nimble peeped out from under the strawberry leaf, just as the sun smiled down on the garden. “All’s well that ends well,” he whispered. “But it was entirely my fault,” said the spider.