belonging to the lordly manor-house was beautiful, well-kept garden, with rare trees and flowers; the guests of the proprietor declared their admiration of it; the people of the neighborhood, from town and country, came on sundays and holidays, and asked permission to see the garden; indeed, whole schools used to pay visits to it.
outside the garden, by the palings at the road-side, stood a great mighty thistle, which spread out in many directions from the root, so that it might have been called a thistle bush. nobody looked at it, except the old ass which drew the milk-maid’s cart. this ass used to stretch out his neck towards the thistle, and say, “you are beautiful; i should like to eat you!” but his halter was not long enough to let him reach it and eat it.
there was great company at the manor-house—some very noble people from the capital; young pretty girls, and among them a young lady who came from a long distance. she had come from scotland, and was of high birth, and was rich in land and in gold—a bride worth winning, said more than one of the young gentlemen; and their lady mothers said the same thing.
the young people amused themselves on the lawn, and played at ball; they wandered among the flowers, and each of the young girls broke off a flower, and fastened it in a young gentleman’s buttonhole. but the young scotch lady looked round, for a long time, in an undecided way. none of the flowers seemed to suit her taste. then her eye glanced across the paling—outside stood the great thistle bush, with the reddish-blue, sturdy flowers; she saw them, she smiled, and asked the son of the house to pluck one for her.
