The children danced about with their pretty toys. No one looked at the
Tree except one old man, who came up and peeped among the branches,
but only to see if a fig or an apple had been forgotten.
"A story! A story!" shouted the children; and they drew a little fat
man toward the tree; and he sat down just beneath it--"for then we
shall be in the green wood," said he, "and the tree may have the
advantage of listening to my tale. But I can only tell one. Will
you hear the story of Ivede-Avede, or of Klumpey-Dumpey, who
fell downstairs, and still was raised up to honor and married the
Princess?"
"Ivede-Avede!" cried some, "Klumpey-Dumpey!" cried others, and there
was a great crying and shouting. Only the Fir Tree was quite silent,
and thought, "Shall I not be in it? Shall I have nothing to do in
it?" But he had been in the evening's amusement, and had done what was
required of him.
And the fat man told about Klumpey-Dumpey who fell downstairs, and yet
was raised to honor and married the Princess. And the children clapped
their hands, and cried, "Tell another! tell another!" for they
wanted to hear about Ivede-Avede; but they only got the story of
Klumpey-Dumpey. The Fir Tree stood quite silent and thoughtful; never
had the birds in the wood told such a story as that.
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