"All right, my dear," said the Lioness.

  So they went into a shop, which they found belonged to a very civilelephant. They were quickly fitted out with nice suits, and then trottedcontentedly on. A large crowd of beasts and birds was going the sameway, and at the door it was hard to get in. The greatest excitementprevailed--which means, you know, that people--animals, I mean--werelaughing and talking, and wondering, and squeezing, and pushing, andtreading on one another's toes, and saying "Where are you shoving to?"and "There's plenty of room," and "Don't be disagreeable," and "Don'tlose your temper, pray," and asking questions, and all that kind ofthing. The Lion and his wife were afraid to take in the children, soleft them outside with an old Cow, who was herself too frightened toventure, and too fat to squeeze through the throng. Inside, the animalswere all staring their hardest. The humans in the cages didn't at allrelish being shown, and were very cross. A Wolf with a long stick wastelling about all their ways, and poking them up to make them roar. Oneyoung man in a blue coat howled with rage, until a good-natured oldRhinoceros, with a red shawl, threw him a bun. He was so ungrateful asto kick it out of his cage, which offended the old Rhinoceros, as youmay imagine.

  "Times are changed, ain't they?" said a jolly old Bear to the Lion,chuckling.

  "Quite time too," answered the Lion.

  The Ostrich craned his long neck, and stared as hard as he could, as didall the animals. The Lioness was very well pleased, but she hurried outto see after her children, while the Lion stayed to have a good look. Infact, there never had been such a sight seen in Beastland before, and Idon't suppose there ever will be such a one again.

  THE UNKIND TREES.

  "YOU know it's ridiculous, and we mustn't put up with it any longer,"said the Plane Tree. He wasn't called the Plane Tree because he was notgood looking, but because he always spoke his mind.

  "That's what _I_ say," grumbled the Elm.

  "To be sure," cried the Oak, in a deep, deep, deep voice--you would havefancied it came out of his boots. But I forgot: of course Oaks don'twear boots--but that does not signify.

  The Aspen and the Sycamore sighed, and shook their leaves, and lookedwise.

  The Chestnut and the Beech whispered to one another, and waved theirboughs indignantly.

  "Yes," said the Poplar, a tall, straight, stiff tree, with a squeakyvoice, "I _do_ think it's a shame the Wood-cutters should be allowed tocome here and cut us up whenever they choose. The Government, or theParish, or the Local Authorities, or--or--_somebody_, ought to hinderthem."

  "Everybody encourages them to do it," said the Box Tree, angrily. TheBox Tree was rather fond of fighting, and that's how he came by hisname.

  "I know what we ought to do," said the Birch, "Whip them."

  "Chop them up," cried the Plane Tree, who was fond of carpentry.

  The trees all fluttered their leaves. They were rather frightened at theideas of the Birch and Plane.

  "Well," growled the Oak. But he couldn't think of anything to say, sowas obliged to stop.

  The Ivy had not said a word, but listened to everything. Now she liftedup her head, and spoke--so softly that it seemed as if the summer windwas rustling through her leaves.

  Lith. Emrik & Binger, Haarlem]

  "I think," said the gentle Ivy--and though she spoke so sweetly, hervoice could be heard by every tree--"I think when there are so manybranches to spare, and when it is an improvement to the trees to belopped and pruned a little bit, it is foolish to object. And when weknow the poor wood-cutters make their living by cutting wood in theforest, and when poor children are often shivering in the winter forwant of fire, it is selfish to grumble about a few fagots of wood."

  There was a deep stillness. Not a word did any tree speak, till the Elmsaid, with a bit of a sneer, "Ivy does not know what she is talkingabout."

  "She means well," said the Cedar, "but she does talk nonsense." "So shedoes," murmured some other trees.

  Ivy hung her head, and heard with grief and displeasure that the verynext wood-cutter who came through the forest should be chopped up, as anexample. In the afternoon, Hans came along, singing gaily to himself.He looked about, and noticed some branches that might be cut off withoutspoiling the trees, for he loved the trees, and would not have hurt themfor the world. But as he laid down his saw on his wooden horse, it wassnatched by the Birch with its long arms, and he felt himself whippedup.

  "Oh, oh, oh," cried Hans.

  "Ho, ho, ho," cried the trees, maliciously.

  Ivy covered herself with her own leaves, for she could not bear to seeso sad a sight, and she cried. So Hans was cut up, and his poor childrenhad nobody to earn any money to buy them food, for their mother wasdead. And the wood-cutters were afraid to come near the forest, lestthey should be served like Hans. And what happened? Why, there wasnobody to prune the trees, and they grew so thick that their branchesall got entangled and twisted, and they smothered one another.

  * * * * *

  Transcriber's Notes:

  Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

  Word "too" added to text (was herself too frightened)

  "Chesnut" changed to "Chestnut" (The Chestnut and the Beech)

  Word "not" added to text on final paragraph, (for she could not bear)

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends

Ellen C. Clayton's Novels