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Flower Fables, Part 3 of 7

The Sleepy Bookshelf

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The Morning Song of the Bees

Thistal went with the bee to his hive. The floor of wax was pure and white as marble, while the walls were formed of golden honeycomb. You cannot see our queen to night, said the little bee, but i will show you to a bed where you can rest. And he led the tired fairy to a little cell where, on a ed of flower leaves, he folded his wings and fell asleep. As the first ray of sunlight stole in, he was awakened by sweet music. It was the morning song of the bees. We journey forth for a day among the flowers. Then spread each wing and work and sing through the long, bright sunny hours over the pleasant earth

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