THE FAIRY TAILOR

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 358, 19 May 1928, Page 27

THE FAIRY TAILOR

“What beautiful hollyhocks, Joan’” said Miriam, in ecstasy, as she and her sister stood looking at the tall, handsome flowers, with their rich pink and white bells, that had blossomed in the night. “How pleased mother will be when she sees them!” Little Joan nodded eager assent. “They are the very first ones out this year,” she agreed. “Oh, I’m so glad we have taken such care of our garden, aren’t you?” Suddenly Miriam gripped her sister’s arm. “What was that?” she gasped. “Joan, can’t you hear it. Listen! Some one is singing. There it goes again.” Round-eyed, the two little girls listened intently, and could hear the following ditty, sung in a high-pitched and rather shrill voice: “Grey for the goblins, Blue for the elves, Brown for the little gnomes, That live by themselves, White for the pixies that dance upon the green, But who shall make a party frock to fit the Fairy Queen?” “Fairies!” breathed Joan, behind the hollyhocks. “Let’s look!” Certainly the quaint little song seemed to be floating from the tall flowers. Joan and Miriam bent over and looked, and behold! sitting crosslegged on a big mushroom, in a cosy little nook, beneath the hollyhocks, was a wee old man, in a brown jerkin and green hose, sewing away at some dew sprinkled red rose petals, which were cut into the shape of a tiny gown. Beside him was a pile of rainbow coloured flower petals, some glistening spidersilk, and the weeniest pair of silver scissors imaginable. “O-oh!” gasped Miriam. She really could not help it, for the vision of a miniature man sewing rose petals in one’s garden is no ordinary one. Just as she spoke the little man looked up and saw them. “Hullo, little mortals,” he Fiaid in i the friendliest way in the world. “Why you must be the little girls who keep your garden in such perfect order. I have collected ever so many petals from this garden. Her majesty wanted a red rose frock for the windy hollow ball, to-night, and so I just came straight to your garden and found what I needed.” “So that’s where all the flower petals go when they drop off their stems!” exclaimed Joan in wonder. “Do you make all the fairies’ frocks?” asked Miriam. “Yes,” said the little man. “I am the fairy tailor, and I have a tremendous amount of work to do. My assistants gather all the materials, and bring them to me, and then a snip here and a stitch there, and you have the prettiest frock in the world. Now, let me see. . . . Fairy Flitwing wants a pansy velvet cloak lined with thistledown, and someone else needs a lilac gown, and—oh, dear, I have so many orders this week I am almost bewildered.” “Where do you live, Mr. Tailor?” asked Joan curiously. “I live in the Place of Wonders, which can only be reached with the key to the Gladness Door,” answered the fairy tailor, without looking up, “and that key is very hard to find. That reminds me,” he added, “I am afraid I really must be going. You

see, I have several orders to deliver, and her majesty must not be kept waiting,, lam never away from home long —I have not the. time.” He hopped off his toadstool, and placed all the flower-silks into a little brown knapsack. “Well, good-bye, little mortals; thank you very much for all the help you have given me. Now you knowwhy the spider webs are spangled with dew in the early morning. Those are the fairies’ jewels, and if you look carefully you will find all those jewels are gathered by noon—they are too precious to waste. Perhaps, my dears, if you go on keeping your garden so tidy, you will find that golden key of the Gladness Door. Who knows? Well, I must be off. Good-bye.” He picked up his knapsack and in a twinkling had vanished. Miriam and Joan stared at '''•each other in utter amazement. “Can it be true?” asked Joan, “or did we dream it all.” But Miriam darted forward, and picked up something glittering from the grass. It was a tiny pair of silver scissors. Becky Pelham (aged 14).