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Updated: May 11, 2025
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.
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.
"May flowers" were put at the doors of houses and cattle-sheds, and these were not hawthorn blossoms, but the flowers of the kingcup, or marsh marigold. Crosses made of sprays of mountain ash were worn the same night, and they, the bonfires and May flowers, were reckoned charms against "wizards, witches, enchanters, and mountain hags."
Then Anenome was silent, for she knew not what else to advise, and only tried to show her pity by tender words and caresses. But Fairy Kingcup lifted up her bright face, and said, cheerily: "Why not try the Wizard of the Black Rock? He lives a long way off, but he is the wisest magician that ever lived; and if any one can help our sister Violet, it is he." Violet shook her head sorrowfully.
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.
It is not their Florence or yours and, remember, I would strike at Tuscany through Florence, and throughout Tuscany keep my eye in her beam, but my own mellow kingcup of a town, the glowing heart of the whole Arno basin, whose suave and weather-warmed grace I shall try to catch and distil. But Mrs.
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