HE picked a buttercup, and held it up to her chin. "Do you like butter?” he asked.
“Butter!" she exclaimed. "They are not
made into butter. They are made into crowns for the Queen; she has a
new one every morning."
"I'll make you a crown," he said. “You shall wear it to-night."
" But where will my throne be ?" she asked.
"It shall be on the middle step of the stile by the corn-field."
So when the moon rose I went out to see.
He wore a red jacket and his cap with the
feather in it. Round her head there was a wreath of buttercups; it was
not much like a crown. On one side of the wreath there were some
daisies, and on the other was a little bunch of blackberryblossom.
“Come and dance in the moonlight," he
said ; so she climbed up and over the stile, and stood in the corn-field
holding out her two hands to him. He took them in his, and then they
danced round and round all down the pathway, while the wheat nodded
wisely on either side, and the poppies awoke and wondered. On they
went, on and on through the corn-field towards the broad green meadows
stretching far into the distance. On and on, he shouting for joy, and
she laughing out so merrily that the sound travelled to the edge of the
wood, and the thrushes heard, and dreamed of Spring. On they went, on
and on, and round and round, he in his red jacket, and she with the
wild flowers dropping one by one from her wreath. On and on in the
moonlight, on and on till they had danced all down the corn-field, till
they had crossed the green meadows, till they were hidden in the mist
beyond.
That is all I know; but I think that in
the far far off somewhere, where the moon is shining, he and she still
dance along a corn-field, he in his red jacket, and she with the wild
flowers dropping from her hair.
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