"
"Call me mother, my dear; in Fairy-land I am your mother."
"Well, mother," said Rosebud, the tears starting into her eyes, and her
heart swelling, as she determined never to call her mamma, no,
never!--"well, mother, if you please, I would rather stay here and watch
the flower: I don't want to see anything more in Fairy-land; I've had
enough of such things to last me as long as I live. But O, if I should
happen to fall asleep!"
"If you should, my dear, you will wake in season; but take your choice."
"Thank you, mother, but I choose to stay here."
At these words the fairy vanished, and Rosebud was left alone, looking
at the dear little flower, which seemed to grow fresher and fresher, and
more and more beautiful every minute, and wondering whether it would be
so with her dear mamma; and then she fell to thinking about her home,
and how much trouble she had given her mother, and how much better she
would always be after she had got back to her once more; and then she
fell asleep, and slept so soundly that she did not wake till the sun was
up, and it was time to water the flower.
At first she was terribly frightened; but when she remembered what the
fairy told her, she began to feel comfortable, and, lest something might
happen, she took a little sea-shell that lay there, and running down to
the water, dipped it up full, and was on her way back, thinking how
happy her poor dear mamma would feel if she could only know _what_ it
was and _who_ it was that made her so much better, when she heard the
strangest and sweetest noises all about her in the air, as if the whole
sky was full of the happiest and merriest creatures! and when she looked
up, lo! there was a broad glitter to be seen, as if the whole population
of Fairy-land were passing right over her head, making a sort of path
like that you see at sunrise along the blue deep, when the waters are
motionless and smooth and clear.
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