“Aren’t you coming to me soon, Dame⁴ Spring?” he said. “I am a much more important person than those silly anemones and really I can no longer control my buds.”

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” replied Dame Spring. “But you must give me a little time.”

 

She went on through the wood. And, at every step, more anemones appeared. They stood in thick bevies⁵ round the roots of the beech and bashfully bowed their round heads to the ground.

 

“Look up freely,” said Dame Spring, “and rejoice in heaven’s bright sun. Your lives are but short, so you must enjoy them while they last.”

 

The anemones did as she told them. They stretched themselves and spread their white petals⁶ to every side and drank as much sunshine as they could. They knocked their heads against one another and wound their stalks together and laughed and were constantly happy.

 

“Now I can wait no longer,” said the beech and came into leaf.

 

Leaf after leaf crept out of its green covering and spread out and fluttered in the wind. The whole green crown arched itself like a mighty⁷ roof above the ground.

 

“Good heavens, is it evening so soon?” asked the anemones, who thought that it had turned quite dark.

 

The summer was past and the farmer had carted his corn home from the field.

 

The wood was still green, but darker; and, in many places, yellow and red leaves appeared among the green ones. The sun was tired of his warm work during the summer and went early to bed.

 

At night, the winter stole through the trees to see if his time would soon come. When he found a flower, he kissed her politely and said:

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