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Page 39
The great holiday of the year was the day on which the harvest of this
national herb began. It was called "Sweet Marjoram Day," and the
people, both young and old, thought more of it than of any other
holiday in the year.
On that happy day everybody went out into the fields. There was never a
person so old, or so young, or so busy that he or she could not go to
help in the harvest. Even when there were sick people, which was
seldom, they were carried out to the fields and staid there all day.
And they generally felt much better in the evening.
[Illustration: THE BABIES IN THE SWEET MARJORAM BEDS.]
There were always patches of sweet marjoram planted on purpose for the
very little babies to play in on the great day. They must be poor,
indeed, these people said, if they could not raise sweet marjoram for
their own needs and for exportation, and yet have enough left for the
babies to play in.
So, all this day the little youngsters rolled, and tumbled, and kicked
and crowed in the soft green and white beds of the fragrant herb, and
pulled it up by the roots, and laughed and chuckled, and went to sleep
in it, and were the happiest babies in the world.
They needed no care, except at dinner-time, so the rest of the people
gave all their time to gathering in the crop and having fun. There was
always lots of fun on this great harvest day, for everybody worked so
hard that the whole crop was generally in the sweet marjoram barns
before breakfast, so that they had nearly the whole day for games and
jollity.
In this country, where little Corette lived, there were fairies. Not
very many of them, it is true, for the people had never seen but two.
These were sisters, and there were never fairies more generally liked
than these two little creatures, neither of them over four inches high.
They were very fond of the company of human beings, and were just as
full of fun as anybody. They often used to come to spend an hour or
two, and sometimes a whole day, with the good folks, and they seemed
always glad to see and to talk to everybody.
These sisters lived near the top of a mountain in a fairy cottage. This
cottage had never been seen by any of the people, but the sisters had
often told them all about it. It must have been a charming place.
The house was not much bigger than a bandbox, and it had two stories
and a garret, with a little portico running all around it. Inside was
the dearest little furniture of all kinds,--beds, tables, chairs, and
everything that could possibly be needed.
Everything about the house and grounds was on the same small scale.
There was a little stable and a little barn, with a little old man to
work the little garden and attend to the two little cows. Around the
house were garden-beds ever so small, and little graveled paths; and a
kitchen-garden, where the peas climbed up little sticks no bigger than
pins, and where the little chickens, about the size of flies, sometimes
got in and scratched up the little vegetables. There was a little
meadow for pasture, and a grove of little trees; and there was also a
small field of sweet marjoram, where the blossoms were so tiny that you
could hardly have seen them without a magnifying glass.
It was not very far from this cottage to the sweet marjoram country,
and the fairy sisters had no trouble at all in running down there
whenever they felt like it, but none of the people had ever seen this
little home. They had looked for it, but could not find it, and the
fairies would never take any of them to it. They said it was no place
for human beings. Even the smallest boy, if he were to trip his toe,
might fall against their house and knock it over; and as to any of them
coming into the fairy grounds, that would be impossible, for there was
no spot large enough for even a common-sized baby to creep about in.
On Sweet Marjoram Day the fairies never failed to come. Every year they
taught the people new games, and all sorts of new ways of having fun.
People would never have even thought of having such good times if it
had not been for these fairies.
One delightful afternoon, about a month before Sweet Marjoram Day,
Corette, who was a little girl just old enough, and not a day too old
(which is exactly the age all little girls ought to be), was talking
about the fairy cottage to some of her companions.
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