AMID a garden of flowers the queen Rose and the queen Lily stood pre-eminent; but they, like all beauties, were extremely jealous of each other, and were not willing to divide the palm between them, but each one was anxious to be acknowledged as the “flower of the flowers.” Knowing the foibles of the two rival ladies, an old orange-tree sought to ingratiate himself into the favor of both by alternately flattering them in private, and laughing at the ridiculous pretensions of the one to the other, whispering to each that her charms could not be surpassed; and then the false old fellow used to entertain his friend, the oleander, who was not a lady’s man at all, with stories of the vanity of the two queens, and of the lucky strokes of flattery which had told so well on his susceptible listeners. But he soon found that his sincerity was going to be put to the test, for these partisans could no longer conceal their rivalry; so the Rose openly threw down the gauntlet to the Lily, and called upon all the flowers of the garden to pronounce upon their respective merits, and to decide which should henceforward take the lead among them. The old orange-tree was chosen by the consent of both the queens to be the chief judge, each of them thinking that the umpire was enlisted in her favor, and thereby that they had the game in their own hands. Now, the old gallant did not wish to have anything to say in the matter, but, as they were both so solicitous, he could not refuse them with a very good grace; and, to put on the best face, he invited all the flowers of the garden to an entertainment, at which he gave out that the question was to be put for ever at rest.

When the queen Lily received her invitation she said to one of her fair maidens, “The presumption of that flaunting Rose deserves its punishment, and, were it not that she would be vain enough to suppose that I am afraid to show myself beside her, I would decline meeting her altogether; but she would feed her vanity upon my refusal, therefore I shall give my orders to all the family to adorn themselves, and be in readiness to attend me to-morrow at midnight.”

The orange-tree spared neither labor nor expense in the preparations. A table was set out in a large arbor in the midst of the garden, with refreshments, and the walks were brilliantly illuminated by lamps which the glow-worms and the fire-flies furnished. A fine orchestra of birds was stationed on the top of the arbor, and long before midnight all were in readiness, and the orange-tree was awaiting, with the oleander beside him (who, by the way, had enjoyed a quiet pipe or two), the arrival of the guests. Many of the flowers came early, but the orchestra only struck up when the queen Rose approached; she was received with distinguished attention by the orange-tree, who presented her to the oleander. The ill-mannered old bachelor, instead of rising and leading her to a chair, merely nodded his head, and remained stiffly seated, much to the mortification of the orange-tree, whose own manners were polished, and very deferential to ladies, though I have no doubt that the oleander cared far more for them in his heart than the courtly, but rather deceptive, orange-tree.

The queen was dressed in her diamonds, and no one could blame her for the pride with which she looked around upon her attendants, who, blooming with youth and beauty, were filling the seats. There was the white rose (always a favorite), with her modest and unpretending manners; the damask, with her beautiful blush; and even the wild rose was there, and, as the queen observed to one of her intimates, “Though she had been brought up in the country, and not at all accustomed to fashionable society, there was a native grace about her, and a propriety of manner, which made her very presentable, owing, no doubt, to the good blood she had in her veins.” The queen was very gracious to all, and only once did she seem at all disturbed, and that was when the little prude, the moss-rose, passed her, making such a show of her modesty, in pretending to hide her face under her veil, when she knew well enough she was only enhancing her charms by so doing; and presently, when the little beauty stole shyly into a corner, as if to get out of sight, every one said she was striving to captivate Monsieur de Yellow Rose, a gentleman who had travelled in foreign parts, and was by all odds the most desirable beau in the room. Her artifice must have succeeded, for they presently commenced a flirtation with each other that lasted the whole evening. Now a second flourish of trumpets by the orchestra heralded the approach of the Lilies, and at the sound there was quite a sensation among the Roses, who all shook up their perfumes, and seemed not a little fluttered. As for the queen Rose, she was quite agitated, and her color heightened as the queen Lily, with a splendid train, swept in with such a calm and undisturbed dignity. First after the queen came the water-lily, who wore a crown of gold on her head, and had sailed down from her home in her gondola. When the queen Rose caught sight of her she whispered, “What a shame it was for the Lily to make pretension that the water-lily was related to her family, when every one knew well enough there was no foundation for it, excepting the mere accident of their having the same family name.” But her indignation went far beyond this when she saw the fleur-de-lis among the rest, and she cried, “This is unbearable; he is of a French family, not in any wise connected with her, who, I do not doubt, she urged so strongly to attend her that, with the good breeding and politeness for which his nation is so celebrated, he could not refuse.”

She now caught sight of the lily of the valley, and exclaimed, “So, so, my Lady Lily condescends at last to take notice of her humble little cousin, who has lived for years in retirement, and who, no doubt, would have remained there still had not some flowers of distinction noticed her, and brought her forward. I was in hopes that the little thing would have had spirit enough to reject the advances made to her at such a late hour.” Notwithstanding her affecting to despise the pretensions of the Lily, the Rose was not at all at her ease; she felt that as the Lily sailed around the circle, with her graceful air, she was a rival to be feared, and was not so sanguine of gaining the victory as she had been. She saw that the placid mien of the queen Lily had not been without its effect in calling forth the admiration of those present; might they not even be led to overlook the beauty which she felt conscious far exceeded the Lily’s, by that lady’s self-possession and imposing carriage. At any rate, the Rose felt uneasy, and was quite nervous, and began rather to repent of her rashness in thus entering into the lists without first measuring the resources of her adversary.

But she need not have been so alarmed; the orange-tree knew too well what he was about to risk his standing with either of the ladies by siding with the other, so, after walking about among the company, and holding consultation with one and another, he at last gave the signal for the guests to gather round the table, and partake of the delicacies that were set before them. After their glasses had been filled he raised his voice, and proposed as a toast—“The Queen Rose and the Queen Lily;” and when they had drunk and lowered their glasses, he bowed to the rivals, and addressed them thus:—

“Ladies, when you compare one with the other you both do yourselves injustice. The charm of the Rose is her bloom and warmth—that of the Lily her exceeding fairness; both of you are pieces of perfection, but of different casts. Should you, Madam (addressing the Rose), attempt to attain the whiteness of the Lily, you would only succeed in dimming your natural brightness; and you (to the Lily), in striving to gain the glow of the Rose, would only mar your purity without reaching your desire. Be, therefore, content to shine resplendent each in the way that nature has marked out for you, and be not envious or displeased that another excels in a different way. Learn also that the Rose suffers nothing by a display of the perfection of the Lily, nor the Lily by being brought into comparison with the Rose, for the beauty of each will be only enhanced by the contrast.”

The oleander and the other flowers all concurred in the sentiments expressed by the old orange-tree; and the ladies themselves, though at first they were both a little angry, and inclined to accuse the orange-tree with treachery, after a few moments’ consideration, acknowledged the justice of the remarks just made, and the Rose came forward in a very frank manner and gave her hand to the Lily, who, on her part, received the concession with a graceful friendliness. After they had partaken of the delicacies, they left the table arm in arm, and thus promenaded for some time before the admiring gaze of the assembly; their attendants followed their example, and the Roses and Lilies, commingling instead of standing coldly apart, gave such a variety and animation to the scene that all declared there never had been so brilliant a fete in the garden as this. The oleander was so inspired by the scene that he quite melted from his apathetic state, and danced and laughed with the best, and invited the company, before they separated, to a banquet that he would prepare them the following week, and even engaged the orchestra in attendance to be present.

All parted with the greatest kindness and good feeling, and the amity thus commenced continued through their lives, and resulted in the mutual advantage of the queen Rose and the queen Lily.