Kisington Town

VIII. THE WONDER-GARDEN

There never were seen such beautiful gardens as bloomed in Kisington-by-the-Sea. Not only every chateau and villa had its parterres spread with blooming rugs of all colors; but each white-washed cottage, every thatched hut, boasted its garden-plot of dainty posies. Each had some quaint device or some special beauty which distinguished it from the others. For there was great horticultural rivalry in Kisington-by-the-Sea.

Now this was all because Hugh, the Lord Mayor, who was very fond of flowers, had offered a prize for the prettiest garden in the town. The Lord Mayor himself lived on a hill in the center of the town, in the midst of the most beautiful garden of all. It flowed down the hillside from the summit in ripples of radiant color, – roses and lilies, pinks and daffodils, larkspur and snapdragon. All the flowers of the land were there, and many foreigners beside.

Through the garden wound the yellow driveway by which the Lord Mayor passed in his golden coach. He loved to drive slowly down this road, sniffing the fragrance of his flowers; and then out through the streets of the town, observing the beautiful gardens on every hand, – the result of his own love for flowers.

When the Lord Mayor saw all the fair maidens down on their knees in the flower-beds, watering the buds with their little green water-pots, nipping off dead leaves, pulling up scrawny weeds, coaxing the delicate creepers to climb, he would rub his hands and say: -

"Ah, this is good! This is very good indeed! We shall have the most beautiful town in the world, blossoming with flowers, and the most beautiful maids in the world, blossoming with health and sweetness like the flowers they tend. It will be hard to tell which is the fairer, the maidens or the flowers. Hey! Is it not so, my son?"

Then he would chuckle and poke in the ribs the young man who rode beside him.

The Lord Mayor's son was very good to look upon; tall and fair, with curly golden locks and eyes as brown as the heart of a yellow daisy. When he drove through the town with the Lord Mayor, the maidens down on their knees in their garden-plots would pause a moment from their chase of a wriggling worm or a sluggish slug to look after the golden coach and sigh gently. Then they would turn back to their Bowers more eagerly than before. For there was the prize!

You see, the Lord Mayor's son was himself part of the prize to be won. The Lord Mayor had vowed that Cedric, his son, should marry the girl who could show by late summer the most beautiful garden in Kisington-by-the-Sea. Moreover, he promised to build a fine palace to overlook this prize garden, and there the young couple should live happy ever after, like any Prince and Princess. And this was why the maids worked so hard in the gardens of Kisington-by-the-Sea, and why the flowers blossomed there as no flowers ever blossomed before.

Now one day the Lord Mayor drove through the village in his golden coach and came out upon the downs near the seashore. And there, quite by itself, he found a little cottage which he had never before seen: a tiny cottage which had no sign of a garden anywhere about it, – only a few flowers growing in cracked pots on the window-sills, and on the bench just outside the door.

"What!" cried the Lord Mayor, stopping the coach. "What does this mean? There should be a garden here. I must look to the reason for this contempt of my offer." And he jumped down from the coach and rapped sharply upon the door.

Presently the door opened, and there stood a girl, all in rags, but so beautiful that the Lord Mayor's son, who was sitting languidly in the golden coach, shut his eyes as one does when a great light shines suddenly in one's face.

"Hey!" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Why have you no garden, girl? Have you no pride? Do you not dream to win the prize which I offer?"

"I am a stranger," said the maiden timidly. "No one has told me of a prize. What may it be, my Lord?"

"It is a prize worth trying for," said the Lord Mayor. "The hand of my son there, and the finest palace in the land for the mistress of the prize garden. Does that thought please you, girl? If not, you are different from all the other maidens."

The girl lifted her eyes to the golden coach and met the gaze of Cedric fixed upon her. "I love flowers," she said. "I had once a little garden in my old home. But now I am too poor to buy plants and bulbs and seedlings. How, then, shall I make a garden to please Your Lordship?"

"I will send you plants and bulbs and seedlings," said the Lord Mayor's son, leaning forward eagerly. "You must make haste, for September will soon be here, when the gardens will be judged."

"Thank you, fair sir," said the girl. "I shall love my garden dearly, if you will help me."

Now when the Lord Mayor and his son had returned home, Cedric hastened to keep his promise. For Gerda was the fairest maid in Kisington-by-the Sea, and already he loved her so dearly that he hoped she would win the prize and become his wife. He sent her the most beautiful flowers that he could find, and transplanted from his father's garden its choicest seedlings; he brought shrubs from the city market.

The meadow between Gerda's cottage and the sea was transformed as if by magic, and became a mass of rare and lovely flowers. The choicest foreign plants, the gayest native blooms, the shyest wild posies, all were at home in Gerda's lovely garden over which the sea-breeze blew. But Gerda herself was the fairest flower of them all. She watched and cared for her garden tenderly, and like the garden she grew fairer every day, she was so happy. She did not know how the other gardens grew, for she did not go to see. But sometimes the Lord Mayor's son came, disguised as a gardener, to see how the flowers fared. And he said that she had the most beautiful garden in all Kisington-by-the-Sea, and he hoped that she would win the prize; which was very encouraging.

No one else knew about Gerda's garden. It was far from town, and no one dreamed that a stranger had come to live there. Besides, the neighbors were so busy, each with her own affairs, that they had no time to go about or ask questions, or gossip; which was a good thing.

No, I am wrong. One person had discovered the open secret. In a villa not far from the Lord Mayor's house dwelt a Countess who was very rich and proud. Until Gerda came she had boasted the finest garden in Kisington, after the Lord Mayor's, made by a whole army of gardeners whom she kept at her command. She was quite sure of winning the prize, and it made her very gay, though she cared nothing at all about flowers. She left all the care of her garden to her gardeners and scarcely ever wandered down its lovely walks. But she longed to marry the Lord Mayor's son and live in a palace. It was the palace that she coveted as a prize, and the honor of being the Lord Mayor's daughter; to ride in the golden coach!

She cared no more about Cedric himself than she did for her lovely flowers.

One day this Countess, who had very sharp eyes, spied the Lord Mayor's son, in his disguise, going past her villa with his arms full of curious flowers such as were never before seen in Kisington-by-the-Sea. And because she had unusually sharp eyes the Countess knew who he was. "Aha!" she said to herself. "This is strange! Cedric is meddling with some garden. I must look into this!" Secretly she followed Cedric through the village and out to the seashore until he came to Gerda's garden. And there she saw him walking with the fair stranger up and down among the flowers. The secret was discovered.

The Countess was a very wicked woman. When she looked over the transformed meadow and saw the beautiful garden which Gerda had made, she nearly died of rage. She knew at once that against this one her own garden had no chance of winning the prize. She stamped her feet in jealous fury and cried: -

"She shall not have the palace! She shall not ride in the golden coach! She shall not marry the Lord Mayor's son! I will see that she shall not!"

The Countess stole home with wicked wishes in her heart and wicked plans in her head. The next day but one was the day of the award, so she had no time to lose. That night when every one was asleep she crept out of her villa and along the road by which she had followed the Lord Mayor's son, to Gerda's garden. Everything was quiet and peaceful. The flowers looked very fair in the moonlight, breathing drowsy perfumes. But the wicked woman cared nothing at all for them. Taking a great pair of shears from her cloak she moved quickly in and out among the garden beds, cutting and slashing the precious flowers and trampling them under foot.

When she had finished her cruel work, not a single bud lifted its head from the ruin. The flower-beds looked as though a tempest had swept over them. Poor Gerda's garden was quite destroyed! The Countess chuckled as she hurried home through the night: "We shall see now who wins the prize!"

The next day Cedric thought that he would visit the garden of sweet Gerda in which he had taken such an interest. Dressed in his gardener's green smock he went through the town, whistling happily as any yokel. But when he reached the little cottage by the sea, he ceased to whistle. Gerda was sitting upon the doorstone weeping bitterly.

"What is the matter, Gerda?" asked Cedric anxiously, and he sought to comfort her. She could only sob: -

"Oh! My dear garden! Oh! My poor flowers!"

With a sinking heart Cedric ran to the garden close, and there he saw all the ruin that the wicked Countess had wrought.

"Alas! Who has done this?" he cried. But Gerda could not tell.

Cedric's heart was nearly broken. For he loved Gerda so dearly that he thought he could not live if another should win the prize. To-morrow would be the day that would determine his fate. What could they do? Suddenly he had an idea.

"Farewell, Gerda!" he cried, and without another word he strode away.

Then Gerda wept more bitterly than ever. She thought that the Lord Mayor's son was angry with her because her garden was destroyed. This was worse even than the loss of her flowers.

But Cedric was far from angry with her. He had gone away in order to think and plan. He had one hope. He remembered that he had a friend who had once promised to help him in his time of trouble. The time had come.

That very night when the moon rose over the water, Cedric went down to the sea and stood upon a rock and recited this charm: -

"Mermaid, Mermaid, rise from the sea! I am in trouble. Hasten to me!"

Hardly had he spoken the words when there was a little ripple in the water at his feet, and a beautiful Mermaid appeared, clinging to the rock over which the waves dashed prettily in the moonlight. And she said: -

"Lord Mayor's son, you have spoken the charm which I taught you, and I have come from the bottom of the sea. I have not forgotten how once a cruel fisherman caught me in his net, and how you had pity on me and took me to the ocean and set me free. Then I promised to help you, if ever you should be in trouble. What is your grief, Lord Mayor's son?"

Then Cedric told her about Gerda's garden and its mishap. "Ah! She must be the sweet, ragged maid who used to sit upon the rocks and gaze down into my ocean," said the Mermaid. "She has a good heart and loves the sea. Early this morning I heard her weeping bitterly for her lost flowers and for you. She loves you dearly, Lord Mayor's son, and I love you both. What shall I do to help you?"

"Dear Mermaid," said Cedric eagerly, "can you find out the cruel person who has destroyed Gerda's garden? And can you restore the garden itself before to-morrow? I ask these two things of you."

"It is easy to find the jealous woman," said the Mermaid. "Her you will know at the right time. But the garden is another matter. However, I will do my best for the two whom I love. And now, farewell!" With that word she slid down the rocks, and in a little splash of spray vanished into the sea.

Now came the day when the Lord Mayor was to judge the gardens of Kisington-by-the-Sea. In all the towers the bells were ringing merrily, and on every side the flowers and the fair maidens were blooming their brightest. Through the town rode the Lord Mayor in his golden coach drawn by six prancing white steeds, their necks wreathed with flowers; and behind followed a great rout of townsfolk, eager to see the gardens judged. In the Lord Mayor's coach sat Cedric by his father's side. He was dressed all in white, as became a bridegroom, and in his hands he carried a huge bouquet of white roses. His cheeks were white, too, for he was anxious to know what this day should bring, and what maiden was to receive the bridal bouquet.

Through the town the merry procession moved, and stopped in turn before each garden, at the gate of which a sweet maid waited, her little heart going pit-a-pat beneath her prettiest gown. The Lord Mayor inspected each garden carefully, making notes in a little white-and-gold book. And each fair maiden gazed at the handsome Cedric and hoped that the Lord Mayor was writing down her name to be his daughter-in-law!

But all the gardens were so beautiful that it seemed impossible to choose between them. In each the Lord Mayor looked and looked, smiled and nodded, – "Very good! Very good, indeed! Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful! I am truly proud of the fair flowers and the fair maids of Kisington-by-the-Sea. Surely, never such were seen before!"

Then he noted his little memorandum, made a low bow to the maiden, and mounting into the golden coach, whirled away to the next garden. At last, when they had gone quite around the village, they came to the villa of the wicked Countess. The crowd murmured admiringly. There was no doubt about it; hers was certainly the finest garden of all. When the Lord Mayor saw the gay parterres and fountains, the shady alleys and cool grottoes, the wonderful flowers and shrubs growing luxuriantly everywhere, he clapped his hands with pleasure and said: -

"Ah! This is Paradise, indeed! Here surely we must look for our bride. Countess, I congratulate you!"

The Countess was dressed in a most costly gown of white satin and velvet, as though she were sure beforehand that she was to be the bride. She arched her neck and smiled maliciously at the Lord Mayor's son, in whose eyes was no love for her.

"I shall be proud, indeed, to ride in your golden coach!" she said.

Cedric had grown very white, and he looked at the Countess with disgust. She was so much less fair than Gerda, and her eyes so wicked! Must he marry her, after all? Yes, unless the Mermaid had wrought a miracle in Gerda's ruined garden. To that hope he still clung. "Father," he said earnestly, "before you judge that this lady has won the prize, remember that there is one more garden to visit. Have you forgotten the stranger maiden who lives beside the sea, and how you bade her make a garden as the other maids were doing? Let us first go there, for she may be waiting."

"Ho, ho!" laughed the Lord Mayor; "I had in truth forgotten the pretty beggar. It is absurd to dream that she should have a garden worth visiting after that of our Countess here. Yet we will go to see, and do her justice."

The Countess laughed shrilly. "A beggar's garden!" she cried. "That must, indeed, be a wondrous sight!"

"Do you come with us, my lady," said the Lord Mayor politely. "Sit here by my son's side in the Lord Mayor's coach. For I trow that here will soon be your rightful place as his bride."

Now it pleased the Countess to ride in the Lord Mayor's coach; and it pleased her more that she was to see the shame of Gerda and the disappointment of Cedric when Gerda's pitiful little garden should be judged. So with a great rustle of satin and lace she gave her hand to the Lord Mayor and mounted proudly into the golden coach. But Cedric sat beside her pale and silent, little like a happy bridegroom. With a snapping of whips and tooting of horns off they went, rattling through the streets of the town, out over the downs toward the sea.

Behind them followed the townsfolk in a great crowd, wondering exceedingly whither the Lord Mayor was leading them. For they knew of no garden here. Presently, with another flourish and a cracking of whips, amid the barking of dogs and the shouts of little boys, the Lord Mayor's coach drew up in front of the tiny cottage by the sea. And the people wondered more than ever. For there was no garden anywhere to be seen.

The Lord Mayor alighted, chuckling as if it were all a great joke, and helped down the Countess, who was grinning maliciously. Last of all Cedric descended and stood waiting while the Lord Mayor with his staff knocked three times upon the door.

Presently the door opened, and there stood Gerda, dressed all in a gown of sea-green silk, with a string of pearls about her neck and a pink coral wreath in her hair. She was so beautiful that all the people in the crowd cried "Oh!" with a sound like the wind in the top of a pine tree, and the Lord Mayor himself fell back a step, staring in surprise. The Countess turned saffron yellow and bit her lips with envy; but still she smiled; for she knew what she had done to Gerda's garden.

As for Cedric, he stood and gazed as though his eyes were glued to fair Gerda's face, until after a bashful silence of a moment she spoke.

"You have come to see my garden," she said. "It is not like other gardens, but I think it is very beautiful. Will you come with me?"

She led them around the cottage to the meadow beside the sea where once had been the beautiful little garden which the Countess had destroyed. But what was this? Where were the lawns and hedges and beds of flowers? Where was the green grass? Gone! Over the spot lay a sheet of rippling water, reflecting the Summer sky.

"What does this mean?" said the Lord Mayor, turning sternly to Gerda. "I ask to see a garden, and you show me a pool of water. Girl, do you jest at the Lord Mayor?"

"Nevertheless, this is my garden, sir," answered Gerda gently, "and a fair garden I think you will find it, if you deign to look closely."

"Nonsense!" said the Lord Mayor crossly, and "Nonsense!" sniffed the Countess with her nose in the air. But Cedric stepped forward with his eyes shining, for he wanted justice done.

"Father," he begged, "let us go nearer, as the maiden asks, and look at this which she calls her garden. Mayhap we shall find something new to Kisington-by-the-Sea."

For when Cedric saw how sweetly the maid was dressed in colors and tokens of the ocean, his heart leaped with hope that the Mermaid had in some mysterious way redeemed her promise.

"Very well," said the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Let us see what this foolish whim betokens. Show us your garden, girl."

Down the slope they went, followed by the gaping crowd which cast curious looks upon Gerda as she walked by the side of the Lord Mayor's son. "Tell me, what has happened, Gerda?" he asked her, speaking low so that no one else might hear.

"Last night," she whispered, "I went to bed weeping for my lost flowers and my lost hope. But at midnight I was awakened by the roaring of the sea. It grew louder and louder, and at last a great wave seemed to burst over the sea-wall and come foaming up even to the cottage door. I was frightened sorely. But in the midst of my terror I heard a soft voice cry: -

'Fear not, gentle Gerda, and weep no more for your lost flowers. The gardeners of the sea have come to restore your garden. And there will be a fine gown for you. Look for it upon the doorstone in the morning. Farewell!' That was all.

The sea ceased its roaring, and peacefully I fell asleep. In the morning I found upon the doorstone this green gown. And when I looked upon the plot where late my poor little garden bloomed, I saw this. Behold!"

As she spoke they came to the edge of the pool. A chorus of wonder arose from the crowd. The Lord Mayor stood with hands raised gazing down into the pool; and every one else was gazing too, with eyes of admiration.

The water was as clear as glass, and one could see to the very bottom of the hollow which had once held Gerda's unlucky garden. Now the basin was floored with polished mother-of-pearl, with beds and borders of colored shells in lovely patterns. There were lawns of many-hued ocean moss, bordered by shrubs of coral, blossoming in every form and size and color, – spikes and clusters, daisy-stars and bell shapes, all the variety of a flower-garden. Sea-anemones and other living plants opened and shut their tender petals. Delicate sea-ferns like maiden-hair and flowering grasses grew upon rockeries of coral. Hedges of sea-weed, green and brown, yellow and pink, waved their fronds gently in the water as leaves do in the air. And to and fro among the branches of sea-trees moved glittering shapes of gold and silver, pink and pale blue. These were the rainbow fishes, – birds and butterflies of ocean, their delicate fins moving more gracefully even than wings can do.

Dear little sea-horses raced up and down the coral alleys, and luminous forms moved among the sea-weed, lighting the garden with living lanterns. Here and there were grottoes of coral and pretty arbors, and the garden was thronged with a multitude of curious sea-creatures even the names of which no man knows. For the gardeners of Cedric's friend the Mermaid had scoured the ocean to find the rarest and most beautiful wonders which grow in a deep-sea garden, such as no mortal eye ever sees.

After a time the Lord Mayor recovered breath to speak. "Maiden," he said, "however you came by this wondrous ocean-garden I do not care to ask. It is enough that we have such a treasure in Kisington-by-the-Sea. Among all our lovely gardens it is the fairest. Among all our curious flowers these living ones are rarest. I therefore judge that to you belongs the prize."

Then a great cheer arose from the border of the pool where the folk were bending eagerly to study the wonders in the waters below. Even the maidens whose gardens had not won the prize cheered, – all except the Countess. She ground her teeth with rage, for she saw that her wicked plot had been in vain.

The Lord Mayor stepped forward and took Gerda's hand. "Come hither, my son," he said, "and take this fair stranger to be your bride. In this spot where her little cottage stands, I will build for you a beautiful villa."

With a happy face Cedric took Gerda's hand in one of his, and with his other gave her the great bouquet of roses. "I obey my father's wish," he said. He needed not to tell that it was his own wish, too.

Thereupon every one cheered again, waving caps and handkerchiefs, for no one could help loving the beautiful pair and wishing them happiness. Only the Countess stood silent and frowning, looking ugly as a goblin.

When the shouting had ceased, Gerda stepped forward and spoke sweetly to the people. "Kind friends," she said, "I am a stranger to your town, yet my garden has been judged worthy of the prize. But I am sorry for the fair maidens who have so long and faithfully tended their lovely flowers. To me it seems that they also should have a reward. In my garden grows a hedge of plants bearing precious fruit, – the pearl oysters, which you see gaping with the white pearls in their mouths. I would have each maid come and take one for her own."

There was great rejoicing and murmuring of thanks as the maidens came forward one by one and bent over the pool to choose each a precious pearl. The Countess alone hung back. "Come hither, Countess," said the Lord Mayor, when he saw that all others had been rewarded save her only. "Come hither and choose your pearl. You should, indeed, have the finest, for your garden would have won the prize but for these sea-wonders by which it was outdone."

"Choose, fair lady," said Gerda, smiling kindly. But the Countess would not come. "I have pearls enough of my own," she snapped. "I need no charity from a beggar!"

"What!" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Such words are not meetly addressed to my daughter-in-law. Nay, they show an evil heart, Countess!"

"Say that she shall do this, Father," cried Cedric, stepping forward eagerly, for he seemed to hear a secret whisper from the Mermaid prompting him; "else we shall think that she was the wicked one who destroyed another's garden in the hope of winning the prize herself."

At this challenge the Countess came forward sullenly to the edge of the pool. To take the nearest pearl she had to bend low, until her face drew close to the water. Suddenly, the watching crowd saw a flash and a splash and heard a shrill scream. The Countess rose, shrieking horribly. A huge crab had fastened himself to her nose, and not easily could she be freed from this unwelcome ornament! At last they tore away the crab, but the tip of the Countess's nose was gone, and she wore a scar always, even to the end of her unhappy days.

This was the Mermaid's punishment for her cruel harm to Gerda's garden.

But Gerda and Cedric lived happily ever after in the beautiful villa which the Lord Mayor built for them on the edge of their wonder-garden beside the sea. And sometimes the Mermaid herself came there to visit them, and to bring them some new precious thing from the watery world where she dwelt.