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Tree Stories For Children 



Wky tke Almond-Tree Blossomea 

 By Mary Isabel Curtis 



VT'OU like to crack and eat nuts, don't you? Yes, of course you do ; and 

 * if you and I agree, then you think the almond kernel is the sweetest 

 nut of all. But when you're crunching the firm, white nut-meats do you 

 ever think about the tree from which the almonds come? 



If you live in the northern states you very seldom see an almond tree. 

 These trees are timid things and dreadfully afraid of cold, dark winters. 

 They prefer a smiling, sunny country like Italy or California ; and there, 

 on every hand, you can see almond trees which flower out in springtime 

 into wonderful pink blossoms, and in the autumn throw down these best 

 of nuts for your enjoyment. 



At one time, though, so long ago that no one can remember just when 

 that time was, the almond was quite an ordinary tree. It had no blossoms 

 and no fruit, but just a few green leaves that dropped ofif in the fall and 

 left it bare. At that time there lived in Greece two children who were 

 the dearest friends and playmates that you can imagine. Phyllis was 

 a slender, dark-eyed little maiden, but though she was a girl, she was 

 as fleet of foot and agile as was young Demophoon, and could play all 

 the games that he liked best. He thought there never had been anyone 

 so nice as Phyllis, and she adored Demophoon. They had such merry 

 times together that they never longed for. any other play-fellows, but 

 were as happy as the day was long. 



Once, however, Demophoon had to go away for a short time, to see an 

 aunt or cousin who lived a day's journey distant ; and while he was gone 

 some most unkind and mischief-making person went to Phyllis and told 

 her that Demophoon was never coming back. Now though poor Phyl- 

 lis had been lonely without the comrade whom she dearly loved, she had 

 comforted herself by thinking of the happy times in store for her when 

 he came home again. But when she heard this sad news she was over- 

 come with sorrow and dismay. The more she thought about it, the more 

 she felt that she could never live without Demophoon. At last, in an 

 excess of grief, she tried to kill herself, but the gods, in pity, would not 

 let her really die. They changed her into an almond-tree beside the 

 brook where she had often played. 



About this time Demophoon, having finished his visit, came home and 

 learned with horror what had happened while he was away. He hur- 

 ried to the almond-tree that had been Phyllis and, flinging his arms 

 around the tree, he shed bitter tears and called to his dear playmate : 



"Oh, Phyllis, how could you believe that I had gone away forever? 

 You know I loved you far too well to even think of such a thing !" 



And Phyllis heard and answered him. For as he spoke, the tree burst 

 forth into a thousand blossoms which at first were white but, as he 

 watched them, turned to a most beautiful and joyful pink. 



Demophoon had made her happy again ; and she has remained so ever 

 since. 



If you have ever seen an almond-tree in blossom you know that it is 

 one of the happiest sights upon this whole, round earth. 



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