He picked one and ate it:
"Um!" he said. "Why, that's the genuine flavour! I almost think they're even better than those in the garden."
"And is the tree to be cut down, father?"
"On no account!" said the squire. "It would be a thousand pities. Why, he's the most remarkable tree on the whole estate! See and have a hoop put round him at the top, keeper. And then put a railing round him, so that the cows can't get at him and do him harm. We'll keep this fine old willow-tree as long as we possibly can. I'm exceedingly fond of him."
For that happened to be his mood that day.
An iron hoop was put round the willow-tree's trunk at the top and a railing at the bottom. Every time the squire came driving along the avenue he stopped the carriage at the willow-tree:
"Yes, the avenue is very nice indeed," he said to his guests. "But they're only quite ordinary poplars. Now here I can show you something out of the common. Yes, I know it looks like an old willow-stump, but just come over here...."
They stepped out of the carriage and on to the stone, one after the other, and admired the garden in the willow-tree's top.
"If the hoop wasn't there, I should burst," said the willow-tree. "What an honour and what luck for a wretched cripple like me! Only think: the squire really climbed up and ate strawberries off me! And all the visitors to the manor-house are brought to look at me."
"It's incredible," said the oak. "It's just as though there were a premium on getting hollow."