  Characters Mr. Sparrow Mrs. Sparrow Crocus Mary Pussy Willow Fern Violet Children Mr. Sparrow. There! I’m glad enough to see the last of that snow. Chirp, chirp! Did you notice, my dear Mrs. Sparrow, how quickly it melted at the last? Mrs. Sparrow. Yes, it seemed in a great hurry to go. It did the same Mr. Sparrow. Yes, yes, it always does—and don’t you know why? How could the little worms and green things come up out of the ground if the snow stayed all summer long? And then what should we do for good things to eat? Mrs. Sparrow. Oh, yes, of course! Mr. Sparrow. I see a worm now. You stay right here and I’ll get him for you. [He flies down and carries away the worm.] Violet. That’s good. Worms are such dreadful creatures; always wriggling about one’s feet. I wonder what they are good for. Dear Crocus. Yes, indeed. But I can’t unroll my petals far enough, I just want to stretch and stretch. Violet. But it’s good to be back in the sunshine again. [Two children enter the woods.] First child. Oh, just see what I’ve found, a violet—a real one—and it’s a white one, too. Won’t Mary be glad. Second Child. Oh, oh, can’t you find another? First Child. No, there is just this one. I am going to take it up by the roots. Then it won’t wither. Pussy Willow. [In basket.] Dear me! What does this mean? Why, Violet, you’ve got some dirt in my eye and on my nice new fur. Fern. [In basket.] It Serves you right for being so proud. You think yourself better and prettier than others. Something always happens to any one who does that. Pussy Willow. I wasn’t speaking to you. Violet. Oh, please don’t quarrel. I am sure I am sorry if I have hurt any one. It was not my fault. I didn’t want to come here a bit. How I wish I could get out. Fern. Humph! Little good it will do to get out. I think these are the very people that Mr. Oak Tree was telling me about. They come every year looking for ferns and flowers. He says some of my ancestors for many generations have gone the same way. They always choose the finest, at any rate. [At Home.] First Child. Oh, Mary, I found the sweetest little violet for you—a white one. I dug it up with all its roots, so it will not wither. Mary. How lovely! You are very kind to bring me such beautiful flowers. Second Child. It’s the first one that came up. Mary. How I’d love to hunt for the violets! But it’s hard for any one who is lame to go to the woods. I don’t suppose I shall ever go there myself. First Child. Yes, you shall. Some day we’ll all go together. Mary. Poor little flower! I wonder if it was sorry to leave its place in the woods to stay with me in this room. Please give it some water to drink. Then it will go on living. Violet. How thankful I am that I came. Just a few days later and I might have withered there in the meadow. I would have been of no use to any one. Now I can make this little girl happy. I am so glad I grew. The best of all is to make some one happy. —Adapted. |
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