Once upon a time there was a good old woman who lived in a little house. She had in her garden a bed of beautiful trumpet¹ lilies.

One night she was wakened by the sounds of sweet singing and of babies laughing. She looked out at the window. The sounds seemed to come from the lily bed, but she could see nothing.

The next morning she walked among her flowers, but there were no signs of any one having been there the night before.

On the following night she was again wakened by sweet singing and babies laughing. She walked softly to her garden. The moon was shining brightly on the lily bed, and the flowers were swaying to and fro. The old woman looked closely and she saw, standing² by each lily, a little Fairy mother who was singing and rocking the flower like a cradle, while in each lily trumpet lay a little Fairy baby laughing and playing.

The good old woman went quietly back to her house, and from that time on she never picked a lily, nor did she allow her neighbors to touch the flowers.

The lilies grew brighter in color and larger in size, and they gave out a delicious perfumelike that of roses. They began, too, to bloomall the year round.

The day came when the good old woman died, and the lily-bed was torn up, other plants were planted there, but they all withered³, and from that time on nothing would grow there.

But the good old woman's grave grew beautiful, for the Fairies sang above it, and kept it green; while on the grave and all around it there sprang up lilies, tulips, violets, and other lovely flowers of spring.