The trees, also, were each year reclothed with leaves, and never looked more fresh and beautiful than in spring, renewed and strengthened, after the rude combat they had maintained with Winter.

In like manner, little Ilsee never appeared more radiant or lovely than when, the snow having melted upon the mountains, she flowed, dancing and foaming through the forest, with an allowable degree of pride.

The snow is an elixir of life to streamlets; the more they drink, the stronger and more beautiful they become.

The green forest was proud of her adopted daughter Ilsee, and the latter had ceased to be occupied with self, and thought only of her good friends the trees and plants, and how she could make herself most agreeable to them.

She had also forgotten that she was a Princess, so everybody else remembered it.

The trees and flowers, the mosses and tender grasses, held her in great esteem, and in their own peculiar way, paid her every homage.

Whenever little Ilsee crossed the valley, the plants and flowers followed in her steps, kissed the edge of her garments and her floating veil; whilst the light and elegant blades of grass, on their part, murmured joyously as she passed, and saluted her, bowing their pretty little plumed heads.

The pensive blue-bells, the most charming of all the forest flowers, had a most extraordinary love for little Ils6e; they always delighted in her presence, crept as close to her as they could, bent over her brow, and gazed at her with a reflective air, as if full of grave thought; they even advanced to the rich and shining stones which the Princess held in her bosom.

The little streamlet embraced these flowers tenderly, and placed a soft mossy carpet beneath them, as being more adapted to their little fibrous limbs, than the smooth pebbles were.

The blue-bells lived in peace and harmony with the reeds and ferns, and all the summer long, they lived a charming life, a real fairy-like existence, in an enchanted isle.

Wherever a spare corner could be found, there the ferns also climbed on to the damp stones; they waved theft magnificent green fans to refresh their friend, and tormented the Sunbeams, by trying to prevent theft kissing their dear Ilsee.

The Sunbeams also loved this child, and, whenever the clouds allowed them, would descend to the forest, and play with her under the trees.

The grey clouds have, for many ages, been the appointed guardians of the Sunbeams, but being themselves so massive, they would scarcely ever move from their place, if the Hurricane did not, from time to time, pass through them with his broom, to stir them up; therefore, they did not like to see the Sunbeams dancing joyously beneath them, with little Ilsee, and sparkling in the grass.

They would often remain, whole days, fixed like a wall on the mountain, and not allowing the smallest ray, however tiny it might be, to penetrate.

Indeed, they would even send rain into the valley, and, with a malicious pleasure, watch little Ilsee wandering on, sad and solitary, with her waters somewhat disturbed.

These proceedings of theft morose governors sadly irritated the Sunbeams, and put them quite into a rage.

To avenge themselves, they would crowd together behind their old guardians, and would tease and annoy them, making them so hot with.

their cutting sarcasm, that, unable to bear it any longer, the unfortunate victims would at last move away, completely overcome by their tormentors.

Then the way being clear, the Sunbeams would dart down to the forest, balancing themselves on the drops that hung amongst the trees, and often passing the whole day, playing on the grass with little Ilsee.

One day, whilst the Sunbeams were thus playing with her, a little white blossom from a strawberry plant (a fruit plentifully scattered through all the Hartz valleys) slyly approached, in order to gaze at her round little face in the transparent robe of the Princess.

But Ilsee, who had seen her coming, reprovingly held up her tiny finger, and said, "Strawberry blossom I strawberry blossom! you are vain, because you wear a golden button on your brow, and you wish to admire your own reflection here."

The strawberry blossom let all her white petals fall, and turned quickly away to hide beneath her green leaves; but the Sunbeams pursued her laughingly, and found her out in her place of concealment, to the chagrin of the little flower; every time that a Sunbeam looked at her, she blushed more and more, until at last she lay quite covered with crimson, beneath the green shelter of her leaves, and, in her confusion, let her little head hang to the ground.

To this day, she has never recovered the shame she experienced, at having her vanity so publicly exposed, and she always blushes in the presence of the Sunbeams.

The kind moon, that good old friend of little Ilsee, often came to pay her a visit, never feeling alarmed at the tiresome journey she had to take over the mountain.

She used to rest on the Ilsenstein, the most beautiful of all that rocky chain, named by the people of the valley after little Ilsee, and from thence would peep down with a benevolent air, and watch her little favourite flowing on with a gentle murmur, beneath the shades of the mountains, and gracefully playing with the silver stars which she had sent her.