ions the
treasures of beauty that she brought with her.

"Her dwarf Amaranth sounded his horn, and instantly a young girl of
every nation presented herself at the foot of the Blue Fairy's throne.
Then, after having made a short speech, she proceeded to distribute her
gifts.

"She gave to the young girl who represented all the Castiles locks so
black and long that she could make a mantilla of them.

"To the Italian she gave eyes as bright and burning as an eruption of
Vesuvius in the middle of the night.

"To the Turkish girl, a figure as round as the moon and as soft as
eider-down.

"To the English girl, an aurora borealis to tint her cheeks, her lips,
and her shoulders.

"To the German, teeth like her own, and a tender heart.

"To the Russian, the dignity of a queen.

"Then, going into details, she put gayety on the lips of the Neapolitan
_wit in the brain of the Irish girl_ good sense in the heart of the
Flemish girl; and, when nothing remained to be given, she arose to take
her flight.

"'And I?' said the Parisian to her, detaining her by the floating border
of her tunic.

"'I had forgotten you.'

"'Entirely forgotten, madam.'

'"I overlooked you. But what can I do? My bag of gifts is empty.'

"She reflected an instant, and then called around her the recipients of
her gifts, told them the situation, and asked them to share their
treasures with their unfortunate sister. Who could refuse a fairy, and
above all the Blue Fairy? So, with the graciousness always conferred by
happiness, these girls in turn approached the neglected Parisian and as
they passed her one threw her a part of her black hair, another a tint
of her rosy complexion; this one a beam of her joyousness, that one a
touch of her sensibility; and thus it came about that the Parisian, so
poor, so obscure, so eclipsed by her sisters, found herself in an
instant, by this generous division, richer and more attractively endowed
than any of her companions."

Now this charming little parable is by courtesy true of the Parisienne;
but it is far truer of the American woman, for of her it might have been
written as a parable indeed. The product of no one blood, no isolated
race, she has been given by the fusion of variant races in her ancestry
an origin and a tradition, both physical and mental, such as has been
granted to no other woman of whom history tells us. Into the ancestry of
the English woman entered the elements of the Celtic blood, Bryt