"Now I shall be able to see the world," it thought. "This tree is big and will shelter me, and I can climb to the very top."
As soon as the big tree saw what was happening it told the little Morning-glory it would not have it climbing about its branches, because it would spoil its leaves.
"What are you doing in our woods?" asked the tree. "You should be growing in a garden, on an arbor or up the side of some little house. How came you here?"
The poor little Glory had to tell how it ran away from its mother with the breeze and was left alone in the woods all winter.
"Please don't send me back to the ground. I cannot see a thing there and I am so lonely," pleaded the little Morning-glory.
"I am sorry for you," said the tree, "but I cannot have my leaves spoiled on any account. I'll tell you what I will do, but you must be satisfied and never ask for more liberty. If you do, back you go to the ground."
The poor little Morning-glory was so lonely and sad it was ready to promise anything to get off the ground.
"You should stay where you are, but you cannot grow up any higher. If you do I shall grow my twigs and leaves about you and crush you," said the tree.
So the little Morning-glory had to promise to stay on the trunk of the tree and never grow any higher, but it sighed for its mother vine, and, because it could not climb, never grew any big blossoms, but tiny little flowers which sighed because they could not stretch out their vines and grow. But the tree kept the little Glory to its promise and not a vine could get above the trunk.
And then one day when the days grew cold and the Morning-glory vine was going to sleep for the winter, the runaway Glory was heard to say to the other blossoms: "Children, be careful of the breeze and what he may tell you next summer. I may not be here to care for you, but he will surely come and tempt you to go along with him. He is fickle and will carry you far, far away and then drop you in a place perhaps worse than this, for we do not belong here, but in a garden with other flowers. I ran away from my mother vine one day, and this is where the breeze left me; so cling to the big tree as long as you bloom, for here you are safe at least, even if you do not live and bloom in a garden." And then she went to sleep.