THE FAIRY WHO WAS
by Rodolph Mrs. Stawell · from Fairies I Have Met
Adapted Version
A tiny fairy named Flicker lived. He had no home. He lived in a garden. He lived in pink buds. He lived in daisies. People picked the flowers. He had to leave. Flicker was sad. He had no home.
Flicker felt very sad. He wanted a real home. He felt very alone. He flew away from the garden. He looked for a new home. He flew far away.
He found a quiet yard. Green grass grew there. The yard was calm. Flicker liked the grass. He made a home there. He took care of the grass.
One day, the garden man came. He was a big man. His shovel was huge. He pulled up the grass. Flicker was very scared. His home was gone again.
Flicker flew far, far away. He flew over the garden wall. He flew over many streets. His tiny wings ached. He was very tired. He needed to rest.
He saw an open window. He flew inside the room. The room was quiet. He saw a pot of black ink. It was on a big table. He hid inside the pot.
A man sat at the table. He was The Man. He had a thin coat. He did boring number work. He sighed often. He wanted to write pretty words.
Flicker was in the ink. His magic touched the pen. The ink glowed softly. The pen wrote good words. It did not write numbers. The Man did not know why.
The Man was confused. He tried to write numbers. More poems appeared. The pen wrote only words. He tried again and again. He felt a little angry.
The Boss came to the table. He saw the words. He had a big coat. The Boss frowned first. He was a little cross. Then he read the poem aloud.
The poem was about summer. It was about flowers. All the men listened. They smiled softly. They felt happy. They thought of green fields. They thought of sunny days.
While they listened, Flicker flew out. He left the ink-pot. A sunbeam showed him a flower. A flower pot sat there. It was a bright red flower. The red petals were soft. It was a perfect home. He would be safe here.
The Man with the thin coat was happy. He felt a warm glow. He wrote a good poem. He never wrote one more one. But he was always happy. It was a special thought.
Many years later, His Daughter knew. She was a clever girl. She knew his secret. She said, "A fairy was in your ink-pot!"
Original Story
*THE FAIRY WHO WAS
LOOKING FOR A HOME*
LITTLE Fairy Flitterwing had no home. Whenever he settled down in a place something happened to turn him out. If he found a comfortable rosebud some one would come and pick it, and then it died and he was homeless again. If he chose a pink-edged daisy to live in, the gardener would mow the lawn at once. He grew very tired of wandering about the garden, and he determined at last to go out into the world in search of a home.
It was quite a small garden, in the middle of a town. Flitterwing felt rather afraid of venturing into the streets, because he knew there would not be many fairies there, and not many nice places for a fairy to live in. So he was a little sad and anxious as he flew over the high brick wall of the garden and looked about him. He found himself in a queer little yard, not nearly as nice as the garden, with a pavement of round stones and an ugly brick house at one end of it. There never was a more unlikely place for a fairy to find a comfortable home. Flitterwing was on the point of flying back again over the garden wall, when he caught sight of something green at the further end of the courtyard. Some grass had grown up among the stones.
"The very place for me!" said Flitterwing to himself. "No one is likely to disturb me here, and I can fly across to the garden whenever I feel lonely."
So he found a cosy corner between two stones, where the grass was thick and soft, and there he made up his mind to stay. It was not, of course, the very best kind of place for a fairy, but, after all, it was quiet and near his friends, and he was terribly tired of moving about from rose to rose and from daisy to daisy. So he thought he would make the best of it.
Very soon he felt quite at home in the grass-patch at the end of the yard. Every morning, of course, he had to attend to the grass and see that it was always fresh and green, for it is the business of every fairy to take care of the place he lives in. He does it instead of paying rent. Then, after polishing his wings nicely and making them shine like opals, he would fly across the brick wall and have a chat with the grass-fairies and flower-fairies in the garden.
His life went on in this quiet and comfortable way for some time.
But one morning poor Flitterwing received a great shock. He was very busy cleaning the grass with a dewdrop, and thinking how strong and tall the blades had grown since he first began to take care of them. They were a good deal taller than himself now, and he was not able to see over them. So, when he heard a heavy footstep clattering across the yard, he peered between the blades of grass to see who was coming.
"Oh dear, oh dear," he cried, "here's that dreadful gardener! I'm sure he's going to turn me out!"
He quickly dropped the crumpled cobweb soaked in dewdrop with which he was rubbing the green blades, and folding his wings closely round him he hid himself in the grass, and waited to see what was going to happen.
The gardener was carrying a basket in one hand, and in the other a tool with dreadful prongs. He was going to pull up the grass that had grown among the stones! Poor Flitterwing's nice new home was going to be spoilt!
One by one the tufts were dragged up by the roots, while the sharp prongs clinked against the stones and the gardener's fingers crumpled up the blades of grass that had looked so green and fresh a few minutes before. Flitterwing was terribly frightened.
"The sooner I get out of this the better," he said to himself, skipping away from the gardener's big fingers. Then he spread his wings and flew up and away, over the wall and over the garden and on and on. He went on flying, flying, till all his friends were left far behind and he came to strange streets such as he had never seen before. Still he went on flying, flying. You see he was extremely anxious to be very far away from the gardener with the big fingers and the terrible, sharp prongs.
At last he became dreadfully tired. It would be impossible, he felt, to go on flying much longer, so he looked about him for shelter. He saw an open window, and beyond it a large cool room. Here was shelter at all events, so he flew straight in. There were a number of tables and chairs in the room, and at each table a man sat writing; but Flitterwing was too much frightened to see anything. He only wanted to find a place where he could hide and rest. A large ink-pot stood on a table, and just inside the ink-pot was a little ledge where a fairy might rest comfortably. Flitterwing lost no time; he darted into the ink-pot and sat down on the ledge. In a few moments he folded his tired wings about him and fell fast asleep.
Now, the room into which Flitterwing had flown was a place where a great deal of business was done. Every day a number of men sat there adding up figures and writing letters about dull things that neither you nor I could understand. If you have done many sums, you will agree with me that no sensible man could really like spending all his time in adding up pounds, shillings, and pence. Very few of the men in this big room really liked it. Some of them wanted to be playing cricket or golf, some would rather have been reading books or listening to beautiful music; and every one of them was longing to be in the country among the flowers and the fairies. And there was one among them—a little man with a pale face and a thin coat—who wished above all things to be making poetry. There were two good reasons against his doing this. In the first place, he was obliged to earn money, and this is more easily done by adding up figures than by making poetry; and in the second place, he did not in the least know how poetry ought to be made.
On the sunny morning when Flitterwing took refuge in the ink-pot the Man in the Thin Coat was very busy. There were rows and rows of figures waiting to be added up, so that there seemed to be no end to them. A large sheet of paper was before him on which he was doing these sums, and the figures were arranged in terribly long columns—and no doubt you know how unpleasant that is. Suddenly something glittered in the air for a moment and then disappeared. It was so bright that it caught his eye and made him lose his place. He thought it was some beautiful kind of insect with the sunshine caught in its wings.
"It was like a messenger from the summer!" he said to himself.
Then he dipped his pen in the ink-pot and went back to his sums.
He had been working busily for some time when he noticed something very curious. His pen was not writing figures at all! He was thinking about figures, and he wished to put figures on the paper, so it was a very strange thing that his pen was writing words all the time. The words were arranged in short lines with a capital letter at the beginning of each line.
"Dear me, how annoying!" he said to himself. "What can I have been thinking of? This will never do."
So he took a fresh sheet and began again.
He imagined that he was copying all the figures on to the clean sheet of paper, for that was what he intended to do. He wrote the figures very quickly, as he thought, because he wanted to make up for lost time. Then he glanced at what he had written—and threw down his pen angrily.
There were no figures at all on the paper; nothing but line after line of words. He began to think he must have got a sunstroke.
"This is really terrible!" he muttered. "I must pay more attention to what I am doing."
So he took another clean sheet of paper and began again.
It was no use; the pen refused to make a single figure.
Then the Man in the Thin Coat was in despair. He pushed the paper away from him and threw himself back in his chair.
"There is something very serious the matter with me," he said to himself. He did not notice that another man had come up to the table and was gathering together the sheets of paper that lay on it. This was the person who paid the Man in the Thin Coat for doing his sums for him. He had a round face and a big waistcoat.
"Come, come! what's this?" he said, looking at the sheets of paper. "Poetry, I declare! So you're a poet, are you? That's all very well, but I don't pay you to write poetry."
The poor Man in the Thin Coat looked very much disturbed. When you come to think of it, it is a disturbing thing to find you are writing poetry when you imagine you are doing sums.
"I couldn't help it," he said meekly.
"Yes, yes, that's the excuse they all make," said the Man with the Big Waistcoat. Then he took up the papers and began to read. There was silence in the room while he was reading the poem that the Man in the Thin Coat had written by mistake; every one left off working, and watched with great interest to see what would happen. The silence lasted for some time.
"Dear me!" said the Man with the Big Waistcoat at last. "This is a very beautiful poem!"
Then he began to read aloud.
The poem was about the summer; about the sunshine and the blue sky and the singing larks that were far away from that ugly room. It seemed as though the far-off fields and the glory of the sun had been really brought there, to the tired men who sat listening. And to each man as he listened came a dream of the thing he loved best. To one man the room seemed to have turned into a garden; the scent of a thousand roses was in the air, and the colours of a thousand flowers. Another man thought he was in a field, lying under a tree and looking at the pattern of the leaves against the sky. And another saw the sunshine sparkling on the dear sea, and the little ripples running races on the sand. But the Man in the Thin Coat saw more things than any of them.
And while they were all listening to the beautiful poem about the summer, little Fairy Flitterwing slipped out of the ink-pot and flew off to play with a sunbeam on the window-sill. The sunbeam showed him a very comfortable scarlet geranium that was growing in a window not far off, so Flitterwing went to live in it, and found a safe home at last.
And the Man in the Thin Coat went back to his sums. He was happier than he had ever been before, because he had written a beautiful poem. He was never able to write any more poetry, and he thought this was rather odd until, years afterwards, his little daughter guessed the truth. He had just finished reading to her his poem about the summer.
"Why, Daddy," she said, "there must have been a fairy in your ink-pot when you wrote that!"
Story DNA
Moral
Even in the most unlikely places, magic can inspire beauty and help us find our true home or calling.
Plot Summary
Fairy Flitterwing is constantly displaced from his homes in a garden, leading him to venture into the world. He finds a temporary home in a patch of grass in a courtyard, but it is destroyed by a gardener. Fleeing, he takes refuge in an ink-pot in a busy office, where a man secretly yearns to write poetry. Flitterwing's magical presence causes the man's pen to write beautiful poetry instead of figures, much to the man's confusion. When the poetry is discovered and read aloud, it deeply moves and inspires all the office workers. During this magical moment, Flitterwing finds his permanent home in a scarlet geranium, and the man finds lasting happiness from his unexpected poetic creation.
Themes
Emotional Arc
anxiety to peace | frustration to inspiration
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Reflects a time when office work was often monotonous and unfulfilling, and nature was seen as a strong escape or ideal.
Plot Beats (14)
- Fairy Flitterwing is constantly displaced from his homes in rosebuds and daisies within a small garden.
- Tired of being homeless, Flitterwing leaves the garden to search for a home in the wider world.
- He finds a patch of grass in a quiet, unlikely courtyard and settles there, taking care of the grass.
- A gardener arrives and pulls up all the grass, destroying Flitterwing's new home and terrifying him.
- Flitterwing flies far away, over the garden and into strange streets, until he is exhausted.
- He seeks shelter in an open window and hides inside an ink-pot on a desk in a busy office.
- A Man in the Thin Coat, who secretly longs to write poetry but is stuck doing sums, is working at the desk.
- Unbeknownst to him, the Man's pen, influenced by Flitterwing's magic, begins to write beautiful poetry instead of figures.
- The Man becomes frustrated and confused, repeatedly trying to write figures but only producing poetry.
- His employer, the Man with the Big Waistcoat, discovers the poetry and, initially annoyed, begins to read it aloud.
- The poem about summer deeply affects all the men in the office, transporting them to their individual dreams of nature.
- While everyone is engrossed, Flitterwing slips out of the ink-pot and is guided by a sunbeam to a comfortable scarlet geranium, where he finds a safe, permanent home.
- The Man in the Thin Coat is profoundly happy for having written the poem, though he never writes another.
- Years later, his daughter correctly deduces that a fairy must have been in his ink-pot when he wrote the poem.
Characters
Fairy Flitterwing ★ protagonist
Tiny, ethereal being, small enough to hide between blades of grass or rest on a ledge inside an ink-pot. His body is delicate and light, allowing for swift, effortless flight.
Attire: No specific clothing mentioned, as fairies are often depicted with natural, minimal attire or simply as glowing beings. His wings are his primary 'attire'.
Wants: To find a safe, permanent, and comfortable home where he won't be disturbed.
Flaw: Vulnerability to human activities (gardening, office work) due to his tiny size; easily scared and prone to fleeing.
Starts as a homeless, anxious wanderer, finds temporary solace, is displaced again, and finally finds a truly safe and comfortable home in a geranium, achieving his primary goal.
Determined, anxious, adaptable, resourceful, easily frightened, appreciative of comfort and quiet.
Image Prompt & Upload
A tiny, delicate male fairy, no taller than a human thumb, with iridescent, opalescent wings that shimmer with all colors. He has a slender, ethereal body. He is looking forward with a slightly anxious yet determined expression. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Gardener ⚔ antagonist
Large, heavy-footed man, with big fingers. His presence is imposing and threatening from Flitterwing's perspective.
Attire: Practical, sturdy work clothes appropriate for gardening. He carries a basket and a tool.
Wants: To maintain the garden and yard, removing weeds and unwanted growth.
Flaw: Unaware of the tiny life he disrupts.
Remains unchanged; serves as a catalyst for Flitterwing's journey.
Unaware, diligent (from a human perspective), destructive (from a fairy perspective), focused on his tasks.
Image Prompt & Upload
A large, burly adult man with big, strong hands, wearing practical, earth-toned work trousers and a sturdy, faded green canvas jacket. He has a focused, determined expression. He holds a woven gardening basket in one hand and a long-handled weeding tool with three sharp metal prongs in the other. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Man in the Thin Coat ◆ supporting
A little man with a pale face and a thin coat. He is likely of average height but appears somewhat frail or unassuming.
Attire: A thin, perhaps worn, coat, indicating modest means or a lack of concern for outward appearance compared to his inner world. Likely a simple, dark office coat of the early 20th century.
Wants: To earn money through his sums, but secretly longs to make poetry and escape the dullness of his work.
Flaw: Lack of confidence in his artistic abilities; bound by the necessity of earning money; initially unaware of his poetic talent.
Starts as a dull, unfulfilled clerk, unknowingly writes a beautiful poem due to Flitterwing's influence, and becomes happier, though he never writes poetry again. His daughter later provides insight into the event.
Dreamy, artistic (unbeknownst to himself), meek, easily disturbed, diligent (in his assigned work), imaginative, longs for nature and beauty.
Image Prompt & Upload
A slender adult man with a pale, somewhat tired face and short, neat brown hair. He wears a simple, dark grey, thin wool coat over a white collared shirt and a dark tie. He sits at a wooden desk, looking forward with a thoughtful, slightly melancholic expression. He holds a quill pen in his right hand. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Man with the Big Waistcoat ◆ supporting
A man with a round face and a big waistcoat, suggesting a prosperous or well-fed appearance, and an air of authority.
Attire: A prominent, large waistcoat, likely of a fine fabric, indicating his status as an employer. Probably a formal business suit of the era.
Wants: To oversee his business and ensure his employees are productive; to collect the work he pays for.
Flaw: Initially dismissive of anything not directly related to business.
Starts as a strict businessman, but is moved and impressed by the unexpected poem, revealing a deeper, more sensitive side.
Authoritative, initially stern and business-focused, but surprisingly appreciative of beauty and poetry, discerning.
Image Prompt & Upload
A stout adult man with a round, clean-shaven face and short, neatly combed dark hair. He wears a formal, dark wool suit jacket over a crisp white shirt, and a large, patterned silk waistcoat that is visibly prominent. He has a stern but curious expression. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Little Daughter ○ minor
A young girl, likely small and innocent.
Attire: Simple, age-appropriate clothing for a child of the early 20th century, perhaps a cotton dress.
Wants: To understand the world and her father's experiences.
Flaw: None apparent.
Appears only at the end to provide the crucial explanation for the poem's origin, completing the narrative's magical element.
Observant, intuitive, imaginative, curious.
Image Prompt & Upload
A young girl, approximately 7 years old, with bright, curious blue eyes and light brown hair tied back with a simple ribbon. She wears a knee-length, light blue cotton dress with a white Peter Pan collar. She is looking forward with a thoughtful, slightly smiling expression. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
The Town Garden
A small, well-maintained garden in the middle of a town, featuring comfortable rosebuds and pink-edged daisies. It is enclosed by a high brick wall.
Mood: Initially safe and comfortable, but quickly becomes precarious and unsettling due to human activity.
Fairy Flitterwing's initial, temporary homes are here, and it's his starting point for seeking a permanent residence.
Image Prompt & Upload
A vibrant, small English town garden, enclosed by a weathered red brick wall. Manicured green lawns are dotted with clusters of blooming pink-edged daisies and lush rose bushes with tightly closed rosebuds. Soft, dappled sunlight filters through unseen trees, casting gentle shadows on the grass. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Queer Little Yard
A small, unkempt yard behind the high brick wall of the garden, featuring a pavement of round, uneven stones and an ugly brick house at one end. A patch of thick, soft grass has grown up between some of the stones.
Mood: Initially uninviting and 'ugly', but becomes a cozy, quiet refuge for Flitterwing until disturbed.
Flitterwing finds what he believes to be a safe, quiet home in the grass patch, only to be driven out by the gardener.
Image Prompt & Upload
A neglected, narrow English urban courtyard paved with rough, uneven round cobblestones, some dislodged. At one end, a plain, dark red brick house with small, grimy windows stands. Along the far wall, a vibrant patch of thick, wild green grass and weeds pushes up between the stones, catching bright morning sunlight. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Large Cool Office Room
A large, cool room with an open window, furnished with numerous wooden tables and chairs. Men sit at each table, writing and adding figures. A large, dark ink-pot sits on one table, containing a small internal ledge.
Mood: Dull, busy, and uninspiring for the men, but becomes a place of unexpected magic and inspiration.
Flitterwing takes refuge in the ink-pot, inadvertently inspiring the Man in the Thin Coat to write a beautiful poem.
Image Prompt & Upload
A large, cool Victorian-era office room with tall, sash windows letting in bright morning sunlight. Rows of heavy, dark wooden desks are arranged, each with a simple wooden chair. On one desk, a large, ornate ceramic ink-pot with a hinged lid sits beside stacks of paper and quill pens. The room feels quiet and industrious. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Scarlet Geranium in a Window Box
A very comfortable scarlet geranium plant growing in a window box, visible from the office window.
Mood: Safe, comfortable, and finally a permanent home.
Flitterwing finds his ultimate, safe home here after his adventures.
Image Prompt & Upload
A vibrant scarlet geranium plant, its bright red blossoms and lush green leaves spilling out of a weathered terracotta window box. The plant is bathed in warm, golden afternoon sunlight, casting soft shadows. The background shows a hint of a distant, indistinct urban street. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
