Arbor Day

I. The Little Tree That Longed For Other Leaves

By Friedrich Ruchert (Translated)

There was a little tree that stood in the woods through both good and stormy weather, and it was covered from top to bottom with needles instead of leaves. The needles were sharp and prickly, so the little tree said to itself:--

``All my tree comrades have beautiful green leaves, and I have only sharp needles. No one will touch me. If I could have a wish I would ask for leaves of pure gold.''

When night came the little tree fell asleep, and, lo! in the morning it woke early and found itself covered with glistening, golden leaves.

``Ah, ah!'' said the little tree, ``how grand I am! No other tree in the woods is dressed in gold.''

But at evening time there came a peddler with a great sack and a long beard. He saw the glitter of the golden leaves. He picked them all and hurried away leaving the little tree cold and bare.

``Alas! alas!'' cried the little tree in sorrow; ``all my golden leaves are gone! I am ashamed to stand among the other trees that have such beautiful foliage. If I only had another wish I would ask for leaves of glass.''

Then the little tree fell asleep, and when it woke early, it found itself covered with bright and shining leaves of glass.

``Now,'' said the little tree, ``I am happy. No tree in the woods glistens like me.''

But there came a fierce storm-wind driving through the woods. It struck the glass, and in a moment all the shining leaves lay shattered on the ground.

``My leaves, my glass leaves!'' moaned the little tree; ``they lie broken in the dust, while all the other trees are still dressed in their beautiful foliage. Oh! if I had another wish I would ask for green leaves.''

Then the little tree slept again, and in the morning it was covered with fresh, green foliage. And it laughed merrily, and said: ``Now, I need not be ashamed any more. I am like my comrades of the woods.''

But along came a mother-goat, looking for grass and herbs for herself and her young ones. She saw the crisp, new leaves; and she nibbled, and nibbled, and nibbled them all away, and she ate up both stems and tender shoots, till the little tree stood bare.

``Alas!'' cried the little tree in anguish, ``I want no more leaves, neither gold ones nor glass ones, nor green and red and yellow ones! If I could only have my needles once more, I would never complain again.''

And sorrowfully the little tree fell asleep, but when it saw itself in the morning sunshine, it laughed and laughed and laughed. And all the other trees laughed, too, but the little tree did not care. Why did they laugh? Because in the night all its needles had come again! You may see this for yourself. Just go into the woods and look, but do not touch the little tree. Why not? BECAUSE IT PRICKS.

II. Why The Evergreen Trees Never Lose Their Leaves

By Florence Holbrook

Winter was coming, and the birds had flown far to the south, where the air was warm and they could find berries to eat. One little bird had broken its wing and could not fly with the others. It was alone in the cold world of frost and snow. The forest looked warm, and it made its way to the trees as well as it could, to ask for help.

First it came to a birch tree. ``Beautiful birch tree,'' it said, ``my wing is broken, and my friends have flown away. May I live among your branches till they come back to me?''

``No, indeed,'' answered the birch tree, drawing her fair green leaves away. ``We of the great forest have our own birds to help. I can do nothing for you.''

``The birch is not very strong,'' said the little bird to itself, ``and it might be that she could not hold me easily. I will ask the oak.'' So the bird said: ``Great oak tree, you are so strong, will you not let me live on your boughs till my friends come back in the springtime?''

``In the springtime!'' cried the oak. ``That is a long way off. How do I know what you might do in all that time? Birds are always looking for something to eat, and you might even eat up some of my acorns.''

``It may be that the willow will be kind to me,'' thought the bird, and it said: ``Gentle willow, my wing is broken, and I could not fly to the south with the other birds. May I live on your branches till the springtime?''

The willow did not look gentle then, for she drew herself up proudly and said: ``Indeed, I do not know you, and we willows never talk to people whom we do not know. Very likely there are trees somewhere that will take in strange birds. Leave me at once.''

The poor little bird did not know what to do. Its wing was not yet strong, but it began to fly away as well as it could. Before it had gone far a voice was heard. ``Little bird,'' it said, ``where are you going?''

``Indeed, I do not know,'' answered the bird sadly. ``I am very cold.''

``Come right here, then,'' said the friendly spruce tree, for it was her voice that had called.

``You shall live on my warmest branch all winter if you choose.''

``Will you really let me?'' asked the little bird eagerly.

``Indeed, I will,'' answered the kind-hearted spruce tree. ``If your friends have flown away, it is time for the trees to help you. Here is the branch where my leaves are thickest and softest.''

``My branches are not very thick,'' said the friendly pine tree, ``but I am big and strong, and I can keep the North Wind from you and the spruce.''

``I can help, too,'' said a little juniper tree. ``I can give you berries all winter long, and every bird knows that juniper berries are good.''

So the spruce gave the lonely little bird a home; the pine kept the cold North Wind away from it; and the juniper gave it berries to eat. The other trees looked on and talked together wisely.

``I would not have strange birds on my boughs,'' said the birch.

``I shall not give my acorns away for any one,'' said the oak.

``I never have anything to do with strangers,'' said the willow, and the three trees drew their leaves closely about them.

In the morning all those shining, green leaves lay on the ground, for a cold North Wind had come in the night, and every leaf that it touched fell from the tree.

``May I touch every leaf in the forest?'' asked the wind in its frolic.

``No,'' said the Frost King. ``The trees that have been kind to the little bird with the broken wing may keep their leaves.''

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