''
But behold, the tree bore neither fruit nor
blossoms the first year nor the second; then the
farmer sent for his brother the gardener, and
reproached him angrily, saying:--
``You have deceived me, and given me a barren
tree instead of a fruitful one. For, behold, this is
the third year and still it brings forth nothing but
leaves!''
The gardener, when he saw where the tree was
planted, laughed and said:--
``You have planted the tree where it is exposed
to cold winds, and has neither sun nor warmth.
How, then, could you expect flowers and fruit?
You have planted the tree with a greedy and
suspicious heart; how, then, could you expect to
reap a rich and generous harvest?''
THE DRYAD OF THE OLD OAK
BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL (ADAPTED)
In olden times there was a youth named Rhoecus.
One day as he wandered through the wood he saw
an ancient oak tree, trembling and about to fall.
Full of pity for so fair a tree, Rhoecus carefully
propped up its trunk, and as he did so he heard a
soft voice murmur:--
``Rhoecus!''
It sounded like the gentle sighing of the wind
through the leaves; and while Rhoecus paused
bewildered to listen, again he heard the murmur
like a soft breeze:--
``Rhoecus!''
And there stood before him, in the green glooms
of the shadowy oak, a wonderful maiden.
``Rhoecus,'' said she, in low-toned words, serene
and full, and as clear as drops of dew, ``I am the
Dryad of this tree, and with it I am doomed to
live and die.
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