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108 Chit-Chat by Puck.
Then was misery and moaning beyond all descrip-
tion. All pride had blown away, and every one
sought support and comfort from its neighbour.
In the hour of need they all felt that they were
indeed brothers.
“TI only wanted to teach you that before me
you are all equals,” rattled the hail-storm, and cut
down a few thousand more of the flowers before
it went away.
As long as the signs of destruction remained,
all the survivors were duly downcast, and many
felt within themselves that they were frail things,
and none of more account than another. But
when the garden again stood trim and neat, and
all shone in their wonted splendour, everything
became just as it had been before.
One night a bitter frost came, and when morning
dawned most of the flowers had been frost-bitten,
and had dropped down dead and black upon the
frozen earth. Only a few survived, and they were
cut to the heart by the common misfortune.
“Born of the earth, to earth returneth,” said the
moles, peeping out from their hillocks.
And the little bird in the tree sang:
‘* From the lap of earth, their mother,
All the blossoms shoot and bloom,
At the last to earth returning,
Every flower must find its tomb.
Oh, the beauty quickly passing !
Oh, the vaunted glory, gone!
All are equal whom death gathers
To earth’s broad oblivion.”
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