Every day now great dishes of these lovely apples and pears from their own garden were brought to the table, baskets and barrels of these fruits were sent to friends in the town and country and even to other countries. It was a great joy! It must be said, however, that these had been two remarkable summers for fruit trees; over all the country these had succeeded well.

Time passed; the family one day dined with the court. The day after, the gardener was sent for by his master. They had at dinner got melons from His Majesty’s greenhouse which were so juicy and so full of flavour.

“You must go to His Majesty’s gardener, good Larsen, and get for us some of the seeds of these precious melons.”

“But His Majesty’s gardener has got the seeds from us!” said the gardener, quite delighted.

“Then the man has known how to bring them to a higher development,” answered the master; “every melon was excellent!”

“Yes, then I maybe proud!” said the gardener. “I may tell your lordship that the court gardener this year has not been successful with his melons, and when he saw how lovely ours were, and tasted them, he ordered three of them to be sent up to the castle.”

“Larsen! don’t imagine that they were the melons from our garden!”

“I believe it!” said the gardener, and he went to the court gardener and got from him a written assurance that the melons at the king’s table had come from the gardens of the manor.

It was really a great surprise for the family, and they did not keep the story a secret; they showed the assurance, and they sent melon seeds far and wide, just as they had sent cuttings before.

About these they got news that they caught on and set quite excellent fruit, and it was called after the family’s estate, so that the name could now be read in English, German, and French. They had never thought of that before.

“If only the gardener won’t get too great an opinion of himself!” said the family.

But he took it in another manner: he would only strive now to bring forward his name as one of the best gardeners in the country, and tried every year to bring out something excellent in the gardening line, and did it; but often he heard that the very first fruits he had brought, the apples and pears, were really the best, all later kinds stood far below. The melons had really been very good, but that was quite another thing; the strawberries could also be called excellent, but still no better than those on other estates; and when the radishes one year were a failure, they only talked about the unfortunate radishes and not about any other good thing which he had produced.

It was almost as if the family felt a relief in saying, “It didn’t succeed this year, little Larsen!” They were very glad to be able to say, “It didn’t succeed this year!”

Twice a week the gardener brought fresh flowers for the rooms, always so beautifully arranged; the colours came as it were into a stronger light with the contrasts.

“You have taste, Larsen,” said the family; “it is a gift which is given to you from our Father, not of yourself!”

One day he came with a big crystal bowl in which lay a water-lily leaf; on it was laid, with its long, thick stalk down in the water, a brilliant blue flower, as big as a sunflower.

“The lotus flower of India,” exclaimed the family. They had never seen such a flower; and it was placed in the sunshine by day and in the evening in a reflex light. Every one who saw it found it both remarkable and rare, yes, even the highest young lady of the land, and she was the princess; she was both wise and good.

The family did itself the honour of presenting it to the princess, and it went with her up to the castle.

Now the master went down into the garden to pluck for himself a flower of the same kind, if such a one could be found, but there was not such a thing. So he called the gardener and asked him where he got the blue lotus from.