I 32 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



The oak stood there awake through the spring morning, the noon of sum- 

 mer, and the evening of autumn; and its time of rest, its night, was coming on 

 apace. Winter was approaching. 



Already the storms were singing their " good-night, good-night ! " Here fell 

 a leaf and there fell a leaf. 



" We'll rock you and dandle you ! Go to sleep, go to sleep ! We sing you to 

 sleep, we shake you to sleep, but it does you good in your old twigs, does it 

 not ? They seem to crack for very joy ! Sleep sweetly, sleep sweetly ! It's 

 your three hundred and sixty-fifth night. Properly speaking, you're only a 

 stripling as yet ! Sleep sweetly ! The clouds strew down snow, there will be 

 quite a coverlet, warm and protecting, around your feet. Sweet sleep to you, 

 and pleasant dreams ! " 



And the oak tree stood there denuded of all its leaves, to sleep through the 

 long winter, and to dream many a dream, always about something that had 

 happened to it just as in the dreams of men. 



The great oak had once been small indeed, an acorn had been its cradle. 

 According to human computation, it was now in its fourth century. It was the 

 greatest and best tree in the forest; its crown towered far above all the other 

 trees, and could be descried from afar across the sea, so that it served as a 

 landmark to the sailors : the tree had no idea how many eyes were in the habit 

 of seeking it. High up in its green summit the wood- pigeon built her nest, 

 and the cuckoo sat in its boughs, and sang his song; and in autumn, when 

 the leaves looked like thin plates of copper, the birds of passage came and 

 rested there, before they flew away across the sea ; but now it was winter, and 

 the tree stood there leafless, so that every one could see how gnarled and 

 crooked the branches were that shot forth from its trunk. Crows and rooks 

 came and took their seat by turns in the boughs, and spoke of the hard times 

 which were beginning, and of the difficulty of getting a living in winter. 



It was just at the holy Christmas time, when the tree dreamed its most 

 glorious dream. 



The tree had a distinct feeling of the festive time, and fancied he heard the 

 bells ringing from the churches all around ; and yet it seemed as if it were a fine 

 summer's day, mild and warm. Fresh and green he spread out his mighty 

 crown ; the sunbeams played among the twigs and the leaves ; the air was full 

 of the fragrance of herbs and blossoms ; gay butterflies chased each other to 

 and fro. The ephemeral insects danced as if all the world were created merely 

 for them to dance and be merry in. All that the tree had experienced for years 

 and years, and that had happened around him, seemed to pass by him again, as 

 in a festive pageant. He saw the knights of ancient days ride by with their 

 noble dames on gallant steeds, with plumes waving in their bonnets and fal- 

 cons on their wrists. The hunting-horn sounded, and the dogs barked. He 

 saw hostile warriors in colored jerkins and with shining weapons, with spear 

 and halbert, pitching their tents and striking them again. The watch-fires 

 flamed up anew, and men sang and slept under the branches of the tree. He- 

 saw loving couples meeting near his trunk, happily, in the moonshine; and 

 they cut the initials of their names in the gray-green bark of his stem. Once 

 but long years had rolled by since then citherns and ./Eolian harps had 



