134 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
“But the beautiful thyme of last summer — and in the last year there was 
certainly a place here covered with lilies of the valley! and the wild apple tree 
that blossomed so splendidly ! and all the glory of the wood that came year by 
year— if that had only just been born, it might have been here now! ” 
“ We are here, we are here ! ” replied voices still higher in the air. It seemed 
as if they had flown on before. 
“ Why, that is beautiful, indescribably beautiful! ” exclaimed the old oak tree, 
rejoicingly. “ I have them all around me, great and small; not one has been 
forgotten ! How can so much happiness be imagined ? How can it be possible ? ’ 
“In heaven, in the better land, it can be imagined, and it is possible!” the 
reply sounded through the air. 
And the old tree, who grew on and on, felt how his roots were tearing them¬ 
selves free from the ground. 
“That's right, that’s better than all!” said the tree. “Now no fetters hold 
me ! I can fly up now, to the very highest, in glory and in light! And all my 
beloved ones are with me, great and small 1 — all of them, all! ” 
That was the dream of the old oak tree; and while he.dreamt thus a mighty 
storm came rushing over land and sea—at the holy Christmas-tide. The sea 
rolled great billows toward the shore; there was a crackling and crashing in 
the tree — his root was torn out of the ground in the very moment while he 
was dreaming that his root freed itself from the earth. He fell. His three 
hundred and sixty-five years were now as the single day of the ephemera. 
On the morning of the Christmas festival, when the sun rose, the storm had 
subsided. From all the churches sounded the festive bells, and from every 
hearth, even from the smallest hut, arose the smoke in blue clouds, like the 
smoke from the altars of the druids of old at the feast of thanks-offerings. 
The sea became gradually calm, and on board a great ship in the offing, that 
had fought successfully with the tempest, all the flags were displayed, as a 
token of joy suitable to the festive day. 
“The tree is down — the old oak tree, our land-mark on the coast!” said the 
sailors. “ It fell in the storm of last night. Who can replace it ? No one can.” 
This was the funeral oration, short but well meant, that was given to the 
tree, which lay stretched on the snowy covering on the sea-shore ; and over its 
prostrate form sounded the notes of a song from the ship, a carol of the joys 
of Christmas, and of the redemption of the soul of man by His blood, and of 
eternal life. 
“Sing, sing aloud, this blessed morn — 
It is fulfilled — and He is born: 
Oh, joy without compare ! 
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” - 
Thus sounded the old psalm-tune, and every one dn board the ship felt lifted 
up in his own way, through the song and the prayer, just as the old tree had 
felt lifted up in its last, it most beauteous dream in the Christmas night. 
Hans Christian Andersen. 
Friendship is a sheltering tree. 
Coleridge, Youth and Age . 
