<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</SPAN></span></p>
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<h2><SPAN name="THE_RAINBOW-MAKER" id="THE_RAINBOW-MAKER"></SPAN>THE RAINBOW-MAKER.</h2>
<p>The children stood under an archway. Behind
them was the blue sky; in front of them the
clear, still lake that wandered and wound about the
garden; above their heads the leaves of a tree
whispered and told strange stories to the breeze.</p>
<p>"Poor tree! it is sighing for the blossoms the
wind has carried away," they said to each other,
and they looked back at the garden. "And, poor
flowers, too," they said, "all your bright colours
are gone, and your petals lie scattered on the
ground; to-morrow they will be dead." "Ah, no,"
the flowers sighed, "the rainbow-maker will gather
them up, and once more they will see the sun."
Before the children could answer, a tall fair maiden
came down the pathway. They could see her plainly
in the twilight. Her eyes were dim with gathering
tears, but on her lips there was a smile that came
and went and flickered round her mouth. All
down her back hung her pale golden hair; round
her neck was a kerchief of many colours; her dress
was soft and white, and her snowy apron was
gathered up in one hand. She looked neither to
the right nor to the left. She did not utter a single
word; and the children could hear no sound of her
footstep, no rustling from her dress. She stooped,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</SPAN></span>
and picking up the fading petals, looked at them
tenderly for a moment, while the tears fell slowly
down her cheeks; but the smile hovered round her
mouth; for she knew that they would shine again
in the sight of their beloved sun. When her apron
was quite full, she turned round and left the garden.
Hand-in-hand the children followed. She went
slowly on by the side of the lake, far, far away
across the meadows and up the farthest hill, until
at last she found her home behind a cloud just
opposite the sun. There she sat all through
the summer days making rainbows. When the
children had watched her for a long long time, they
went softly back to their own home. The rainbow-maker
had not even seen them.</p>
<p>"Mother," they said one day, "we know now
where the colours go from the flowers. See, they
are there," and as they spoke they thought of the
maiden sitting silently at work in her cloud-home.
They knew that she was weeping at sending forth
her most beautiful one, and yet smiling as she
watched the soft archway she had made. "See, they
are all there, dear mother," the children repeated,
looking at the falling rain and the shining sun, and
pointing to the rainbow that spanned the river.</p>
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