She was Queen of the garden, this beautiful creature, and all the flowers loved her. Each vied with the other in trying to please her. The tall white lillies held their heads still higher as she passed by, the tiny bud opened its curled petals further and further until it burst into a glorious rose, the blue bells tinkled their sweetest music, and the shy, gentle mignonette shed forth its loveliest perfume—every flower did all in its power for her sake.

And the Queen loved all the flowers, too. She begged the sun to shine down upon them, and she asked the morning dews to bathe their bright faces, and the gentle rains to give them plenty to drink.

At last there came a day when the lillies hung their heads; blue bell and heart ease fell from their stems, the poppies that had gleamed so brightly in the sun light covered their faces and shone no more, and all the garden seemed full of gloom and sadness.

The Insects had done it all. With their sharpest weapons they had attacked the flowers, making them one by one yield to their violence.

How this grieved the flower Queen, but at last she thought of the Brownies, and she smiled for well she knew these clever little workers. She found a trumpet flower that had escaped the cruel foe, and blew one gentle blast. Quick as a wink the Brownies came running. Their faces looked sad when they heard the trouble, but they promised to do all in their power to help their gentle Queen, and bravely they went to work. They took turns at the grindstone and sharpened their spears and swords and axes until they glistened in the moonlight, and the insects might well have trembled had they seen them.

In the morning when the sun peeped out to waken the flowers, the insects once more started on their raid, but they were not prepared for what followed. Curled up underneath flowers and bushes hid the Brownies. Out they rushed and war raged fiercely, but the Brownies came off the victors, and the bees and the beetles, the hornets, ants and caterpillars lay dead upon the ground.