145 
Chap. IX.—B. S.] THE WATS OF A PARASITE. 
tree, at the other end of the orchard, to whom he had 
paid, more than once, flattering compliments. 
“ Good morning, Mr. Apple-tree,” he said, “ how 
well you look! hut no one can wonder at that, hear¬ 
ing in mind your fine constitution, and the delightful 
locality you live in. I wish I could stay with you 
awhile; it really would do me good; for I have had 
so much trouble of late that I am quite worn out. 
You knew poor Mr. Apple-tree, of Appleton Grove ; 
I believe he was a connection of yours. Well, poor 
thing ! he is no more ; and I, who had been living so 
many years with him (you know he was so fond of 
my company that he would never part with me), was 
suddenly without a home. I fully expected some¬ 
thing would be left to me, considering all I have done 
for him; but in that I have been disappointed. So I 
must do the best I can, live as economically as pos¬ 
sible, and take the first shelter I can get. There 
seems to be plenty of room in your upper branches; 
I wish you would allow me to take up my quarters 
there for awhile.” 
“1 am really sorry to have to refuse you,” replied 
the Apple-tree; “but the farmer is a great enemy of 
Mistletos; he says they are idle fellows, and wherever 
they establish themselves they cause mischief, and 
there is no getting rid of them. Why don’t you go 
to the forest ? There are plenty of fine old Oaks, and 
no farmer to oppose you; besides, I have always 
heard that a Mistleto growing on an Oak was such a 
curiosity as to excite the greatest notice; indeed, if I 
remember rightly, at one time they were actually 
worshipped if found on such trees.” n 
