ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
27 B 
THE LITTLE PINE TREE. 
O NCE a little Pine tree, 
In the forest ways, 
Sadly sighed and murmured, 
Thro’ the summer days. 
“ I am clad in needles — 
Hateful things ! ” — he cried ; 
“Ad the trees about me 
Laugh in scornful pride. 
Broad their leaves and fair to see; 
Worthless needles cover me. 
“ Ah, could I have chosen, 
Then, instead of these, 
Shining leaves should crown me, 
Shaming all the trees. 
Broad as theirs and brighter, 
Dazzling to be'hold ; 
All of gleaming silver — 
Nay, of burnished gold. 
Then the rest would weep and sigh 
None would be so fine as I.” 
Slept the little Pine tree 
When the night came down. 
While the leaves he wished for 
Budded on his crown. 
All the forest wondered, 
At the dawn, to see 
What a golden fortune 
Decked this little tree. 
Then he sang and laughed aloud ; 
Glad was he and very proud. 
Foolish little Pine tree ! 
At the close of day, 
Thro’ the gloomy twilight, 
Came a thief that wav. 
Soon the treasure vanished ; 
Sighed the Pine, “Alas! 
Would that I had chosen ■ 
Leaves of crystal glass.” 
Long and bitterly he wept, 
But with night again he slept. 
St. Nicholas, May , 1889. 
Gladly in the dawning 
Did he wake to find 
That the gentle fairies 
Had again been kind. 
How his blazing crystals 
Lit the morning air ! 
Never had the forest 
Seen a sight so fair. 
Then a driving storm did pass ; 
All his leaves were shattered glass. 
Humbly said the Pine tree, 
“ I have learned ’t is best 
Not to wish for fbi tunes 
Fairer than the rest. 
Glad were I, and thankful, 
If I might be seen, 
Like the trees about me, 
Clad in tender green.” 
Once again he slumbered, sad ; 
Once again his wish he had. 
Broad his leaves and fragrant, 
Rich were they and fine, 
Till a goat at noon-day 
Halted there to dine. 
Then her kids came skipping 
Round the fated tree ; 
All his leaves could scarcely 
Make a meal for three. 
Every tender bud was nipt, 
Every branch and twig was stript. 
Then the wretched Pine tree 
Cried in deep despair, 
*. Would I had my needles ; 
The) r were.green and fair. 
Never would I change them,” 
Sighed the little tree ; 
‘ Just as nature gave them 
They' were the best for me.” 
So lie slept, and waked, and found 
All his needles safe and sound ! 
Eudora S. Bumstead. 
***** The earth has no more gorgeous sight 
When our wide woods and mighty lawns To show to human eyes. 
Bloom to the April skies, 
Bryant. 
