Bluebells

A soft, light
morning breeze blew deliciously across the mountain, gently stirring
the bluebells that still remained of the summer's wealth of flowers,
their slender heads nodding cheerfully in the sunshine. --heidi

"Oh, the flowers!" exclaimed Clara. "Look at the bushes of red flowers,
and all the nodding blue bells! Oh, if I could but get out and pick
some!"

Heidi ran off at once and picked her a large nosegay of them.

"But these are nothing, Clara," she said, laying the flowers on her
lap. "If you could come up higher to where the goats are feeding, then
you would indeed see something! Bushes on bushes of the red centaury,
and ever so many more of the blue-bell flowers; and then the bright
yellow rock roses, that gleam like pure gold, and all crowding together
in the one spot. And then there are others with the large leaves that
grandfather calls Bright Eyes, and the brown ones with little round
heads that smell so delicious. Oh, it is beautiful up there, and if you
sit down among them you never want to get up again, everything looks
and smells so lovely!" --Heidi

Heidi had meanwhile reached her field of flowers, and as she caught
sight of it she uttered a cry of joy. The whole ground in front of her
was a mass of shimmering gold, where the cistus flowers spread their
yellow blossoms. Above them waved whole bushes of the deep blue-bell
flowers. Heidi stood and gazed and drew in the delicious air. Suddenly
she turned round and reached Clara's side out of breath with running
and excitement. "Oh, you must come," she called out as soon as she came
in sight, "it is more beautiful than you can imagine, and perhaps this
evening it may not be so lovely. I believe I could carry you, don't you
think I could? ---Heidi