4 
THE) STORY OR THR OAK TRRR 
contained an oracle—a god who could foretell events. 
The priests who tended this oak slept on the ground be¬ 
neath its branches; when the time came to ask the oracle 
a question, these priests would raise their heads and catch 
the answer in the rustling of the myriad leaves above. 
When the breeze was not blowing and the leaves made no 
sound the priests found their answers in the moaning of 
the doves upon the spreading branches. 
Wise men of Greece in later years, philosophers whose 
names are still revered, believed that we trees could see, 
and hear, and feel, and think. Maybe you have helped 
to plant a tree on Arbor Day, or maybe you have watched 
them plant a tree after the ceremony of laying the 
cornerstone of a new church, or school, or public library. 
Have you ever wondered why they did this? I will tell 
you why. It is the last remnant of the beliefs of your 
ancestors, who thought the life of a man and the life of 
a tree were bound up together. When a child was born 
those ancient people would fix upon some young tree as 
that child’s tree. If the tree grew tall and strong, the 
child grew tall and strong; if the tree sickened and died, 
it was ten to one the boy would die too. In Africa to¬ 
day there live savages who abandon their homes and fly 
from their village forever if the sacred tree of the village 
dies. In ancient Rome there stood in the market place a 
fig tree sacred to Romulus, founder of that great city. 
