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Olcott, Frances Jenkins, 1872-1963

"Good Stories for Holidays"

``And then? What
happens then?''
``We did not see anything more: it beat everything!''
``I wonder if I am to sparkle like that!'' cried
the Tree, rejoicing. ``That is still better than to
go over the sea! How I do suffer for very longing!
Were Christmas but come! I am now tall, and
stretch out like the others that were carried off
last year! Oh, if I were already on the cart! I
wish I were in the warm room with all the splendor
and brightness. And then? Yes; then will come
something better, something still grander, or why
should they dress me out so? There must come
something better, something still grander,--but
what? Oh, how I long, how I suffer! I do not
know myself what is the matter with me!''
``Rejoice in us!'' said the Air and the Sunlight;
``rejoice in thy fresh youth out here in the open
air!''
But the Tree did not rejoice at all; he grew and
grew; and he stood there in all his greenery; rich
green was he winter and summer. People that
saw him said, ``That's a fine tree!'' and toward
Christmas he was the first that was cut down.
The axe struck deep into the very pith; the Tree
fell to the earth with a sigh: he felt a pang--it
was like a swoon; he could not think of happiness,
for he was sad at being parted from his home,
from the place where he had sprung up. He well
knew that he should never see his dear old comrades,
the little bushes and flowers around him,
any more; perhaps not even the birds! The setting
off was not at all pleasant.


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