"An oak!" said the willow-tree, overcome with respectful awe.
"He blew over here in the great storm of the autumn before last," said the earth-worm. "I remember it distinctly, because you were creaking so that I thought it would have been up with all of us."
"What's that you're saying?" said the oak on the little hillock in the fields. "Is one of my children growing on you?"
"Yes," said the old willow-tree. "It's really a little oak. That's a great honour for me."
"It's folly," said the oak. "He must be going to die."
"We all have to die," said the elder-bush.
10
One day the squire came walking down the avenue.
He had the keeper with him and his own two children, a little boy and a little girl. They had not been long at the manor-house and looked about them inquisitively, for everything was new to them.
"What on earth is that ugly old stump doing there?" asked the squire, pointing at the old willow-tree with his cane. "He's enough to spoil the whole avenue. See that you get rid of him to-morrow, keeper. It makes me quite ill to look at him."