draw with a pencil. How I wish I were a
painter!"

As he said these words he felt the flower move. He looked, and the
cluster of stamens at the bottom of the lily-cup glittered like a crown
of gold. The dewdrops which hung upon the stamens changed to diamonds
before his eyes. The white petals flowed together, and the next moment a
beautiful little fairy stood on his hand. She was no taller than the
lily from which she came, and she was dressed in a robe of the purest
white.

"Child, are you happy?" she asked.

"No," said the boy in a low voice, "because I want to paint and I
cannot."

"How do you know that you cannot?" asked the fairy.

"Oh, I have tried a great many times. It is of no use to try any more."

"But I will help you."

"Oh," said the boy. "Then I might succeed."

"I heard your wish, and I am willing to help you," said the fairy. "I
know a charm which will give you success. But you must do exactly as I
tell you. Do you promise to obey?"

"Spirit of a water lily!" said the boy, "I promise with all my heart."

"Go home, then," said the fairy, "and you will find a little key on the
doorstep. Take it up and carry it to the nearest pine tree; strike the
trunk with it, and a keyhole will appear. Do not be afraid to unlock the
door. Slip in your hand, and you will bring out a magic palette. You
must be very careful to paint with colors from that palette every day.
On this depends the success of the charm. You will find that it will
make your pictures beautiful and full of grace.

"If you do not break the spell, I promise you that in a few years you
shall be able to paint this lily so well that you will be satisfied; and
that you shall become a truly great painter."

"Can it be possible?" said the boy. And the hand on which the fairy
stood trembled for joy.

"It shall be so, if only you do not break the charm," said the fairy.
"But lest you forget what you owe to me, and as you grow older even
begin to doubt that you have ever seen me, the lily you gathered to-day
will never fade till my promise is fulfilled."

The boy raised his eyes, and when he looked again there was nothing in
his hand but the flower.

He arose with the lily in his hand, and went home at once. There on the
doorstep was the little key, and in the pine tree he found the magic
palette. He was so delighted with it and so afraid that he might break
the spell that he began to work that very night. After that he spent
nearly all his