Eagle River Democrat. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1893-1896, 1895-07-15
Turned Into a Flower.

Once upon a time-a long, long time
ago-in a country called Hellas, there
lived a youth whose name was Narcissus.
He was a beautiful youth, strong and
very happy, for he ran all day through
the woods and fields, leaping and playing
with his dog and throwing his bright
new spear, for he was hunter.
The nymphs-the naiads who lived in
the water, and the dryads, who dwelt,
each one in her own tree, loved Narcissus
and often asked him to join them IN
their sport. But he laughed when they
told him how delicious the waters were
that bubbled up under the fountains,
and how cool and pleasant the shadows
under the trees at noontime. He pre-
ferred, he said, to run through the fields
where the sun was shining-and so he
played by himself, with only his dog ana
spear.
But one sultry day, when he had been
running a long way through the fields
and was tired and very warm. he came
went into the cool shadow to rest he
thought he could hear the tinkle, tinkle of
water flowing, so he went on until at
last he found a little brook. The grasses
and ferns were so tall and thick upon It's
banks, and it flowed so quietly over its
pebbles, that he had never CHANGED to
see or hear it before, but now he was
glad, for he was thirsty. He went tram
ping over the thick grasses and ferns,
and threw himself down by the stream to
drink. He leaned over and touched his
lips to the water. and as he did so some
one who seemed to be down in the brook,
leaned forward too He started back,
and the pretty figure drew back too.
Now NarciSsus did not know that 1t
was his own image, but thought it must
be a beautiful spirit that lived IN the
stream, for in those days the people said
IN
stream had a spirit that lived within it
and they called this beautiful spirit
naiad.
He called and called, and tried to take
the image up in his arms, but every time
he touched the water the pretty figure
would fly away and the surface. would be
full of rings, just such as you make
when you fling pebble into brook in
the meadow. When the stream was
smooth again the spirit would come back
and smile, but never answer. Again and
again Narcissus tried to coax it up out
of the water, but it would not come.
Every day after this the young hunter
found his way to the Swallowed place IN
the forest and called his beautiful COM
panion to come and sport with him. The
figure would always come, but would
never speak nor dance with hint could
not, of course, for it was only an image.
More and more Narisssus grew to love
this pretty play fellow, until, at last, ne
would not leave the stream at all. He
therw away his spear and forgot his
faithful dog-forgot. even, that he was
hungry, and leaned all day long over the
grassy bank to look at his own image in
the water.
But by and by the nymphs grew lonely.
They wondered where the boy could be
who had preferred the hot, sunny fields
to the cool shadow of their trees at noon
day. So they went searching for him
and calling through the fields and woods
until they came upon a little brook al
most hidden by ferns and grasses. There
they found a single flower, white and
purple, dropping upon the bank, and they
said it was Narcissus. He had faded
away, they thought, until he had
changed to this pale blossom that was al
ways dropping it's head to look upon its
own image in the water.
He had not really changed into flow
er, of course, but the blossom was SO
like him that the people gave it his
pretty name. And so, whenever you see
the narcissus flower, want you to re-
member this story I have told you, of
the boy who loved his own image, so
long ago, in country called Hellas.-
Educational Gazette.