were such pretty legends about trees as 

 I have learned within the last few 

 weeks." 



"You have carried with you in your 

 rambles the 'ears of imagination' and 

 that is why. Birds too, have legends, 

 and flowers, some of them being very 

 beautiful; but my subject is trees and 

 only those of our family. The Aspen is 

 a useful tree as well as pretty. On the 

 mountains of Arizona they often grow 

 to the height of one hundred feet. Their 

 seeds are provided with hairs and thus 

 are wafted great distances by the wind. 

 Often they fall on ground rendered infer- 

 tile by fire or on steep mountain- 

 ous slopes where the heavy rains wash 

 away the soil. Here they quickly ger- 

 minate, the seedling plants grow very 

 rapidly even in exposed situations, and 

 soon the barren, sandy places are a mass 

 of waving, tender green. The land is 

 thus often reclaimed through their 

 agency. I will give you an instance of 

 this in connection with Napoleon, of 

 whom you no doubt have read in your 

 history." 



''To be sure I have ; he was sometimes 

 called the 'Little Corporal.' " 



"You are right. Well it is said that 

 the greatest monument to his name was 

 brought about through the agency of 

 some of my relatives," and the Willow 

 Tree waved its plumy branches proudly. 



Mabel was listening intently, as the 

 wind played lightly in the green 

 roof overhead. 



"For fully one hundred miles along 

 the Bay of Biscay," continued the Wil- 

 low, "There stretched a threatening 

 array of sand dunes, which year by year 

 pursued their irresistible march inland, 

 some years to the extent of nearly two 

 hundred feet. The restless winds which 

 swept across the broad Atlantic, would 

 catch this sand and carry it in great 

 waves over the smiling plains of sunny 

 France, burying fields, meadows, vine- 

 yards, houses, churches and even villages 

 in their onward march — leaving behind 

 them only gray billows, to which clung 

 branches of bracken, a few starved 

 bunches of scrub oak, and thickets of 

 white and purple gorse, fighting stub- 



bornly for a foothold upon the shifting 

 sands. In some places would be seen a 

 straggling group of pines, the protesting 

 remains of a great forest. Napoleon 

 caused a great number of Willows to be 

 planted there and steadily the land was 

 reclaimed, and today that stands out as 

 the greatest of Napoleon's victories." 



"You might also add — and one that 

 did the most good for his people." 



Mabel lay back on her cushions pon- 

 dering silently over all the wonderful 

 things she had heard. A new world had 

 opened out to her and she wandered 

 through it with ever-increasing admira- 

 tion. The rustling of leaves, the twitter- 

 ing of birds, the breaking of the tiny 

 waves against the side of her canoe, the 

 ever-changing clouds — all had a new and 

 a deeper meaning to her. Thoughtfully 

 she fingered the Willow leaves so near 

 her face, deep in reverie. The Willow 

 Tree was silent too ; presently it stirred 

 its many leaves and a musical murmur 

 floated to her ears as it seemed to say : 



"We not only beautify the banks of 

 the streams along which we grow, glad- 

 dening the eye, and affording shelter to 

 many birds, but our roots interlace and 

 prevent the washing away of the banks 

 by the continual action of the water ; our 

 roots often are larger than our stems. 

 Some members of our family grow so 

 low that they trail along the ground like 

 vines, others again rise to the heig"ht of 

 sixty, seventy and even one hundred 

 feet, waving their great masses of foliage 

 and presenting a beautiful sight." 



The Tree ceased and Mabel roused 

 from her reverie, when she noticed the 

 soft, mellow light had given place to a 

 dim twilight with shadows lurking in 

 some places. Mechanically she sat erect, 

 arranged her cushion and paddle and 

 pushed out of the opening into clear 

 water. She looked at the beautiful mass 

 of foliage as if loth to leave it. 



"Goodnight, dear Willow," she said. 

 "I certainly have enjoyed your graceful 

 branches and the musical murmur of 

 your voice. I shall come to you again 

 and bring with me the 'ears of imagina- 

 tion.' In fact I think I shall always 

 carry them." 



Evelyn Singer. 



104 



