creations, and tempted once more the fairies of the mountains to
appear. The queen, true to her promise, sent swift messengers to her
remotest people; she summoned them all to her presence. They came in
troops, and filled the mountain tops and sides, and reached down into
the valleys. She welcomed them as they approached her. In majesty she
was seated upon a summer throne. It was formed of the finest woods of
the forest, and quaintly fashioned by the little work-people. It was
cushioned with the most delicate mosses, and wild vines had been
trained up and over and around it, blending charmingly with the rustic
woodwork. Above her tiny head spread a canopy of delicate twigs,
twisted into fantastic shapes by skillful hands, and roofed with the
glittering wings of the rarest insects, overlapped with such exactness
that not even a drop of dew could penetrate. It was right royal, and
she was worthy of it. Near the queen's pavilion were ranged the
principal leaders of the various tribes, together with her most
favored advisers.

Her eyes, sad and mournful, wandered over this vast assemblage of
devoted friends.

"My people," she commenced, "as I promised, I have called you from
your sylvan abodes to impart what I have too long concealed. It has
been known to myself alone that the period for our allotted stay upon
earth has almost expired. In a short time we must go, forever, from
these scenes of pleasure--from these woody retreats where we have
known so many joys. Our places will soon be taken by the sons of men.
It is our fate that when they come we must disappear. Through all our
lives we have done nothing but waste our time in pursuit of mere
pleasure, hastening the time of our banishment and doing good to no
one. Like the bees, fluttering from flower to flower, we will have