Fairy Tales in the Garden, and Fairy Tales at Court
There was a garden in which fairy tales grew in the beds along the paths.
All sorts of fairy tales grew there—white ones, red ones, blue ones, purple ones, and yellow ones. Some of the tales had an agreeable perfume, while others made up in beauty what they lacked in perfume.
The gardener’s little son went every morning into the garden to delight in the fairy tales.
He learnt them all, and often told them to his companions in the street; no common children were permitted into the garden, for it was the garden of a great queen.
The children told about these fairy tales to their mammas and papas, and these told them to their acquaintances, until their fame spread far and wide. The queen also heard at last that fairy tales grew in her garden. She asked to see them.
And so one early morning the gardener cut down many of the fairy tales, gathered them into a beautiful sumptuous bouquet, and sent them to Court.
The gardener’s young son cried because they were cutting down the fairy tales, but no one would listen to him.
As if there were not enough things that one might choose to cry about!
The queen looked at the fairy tales, and asked in astonishment:
“What’s interesting about them? Why do you call them fairy tales? They are the most common flowers.”
They threw the poor fairy tales into the backyard, and gave the gardener’s little son a birching so that he should not speak such nonsense again.