"Well?" said the mistletoe.
"My dear little foster-child," said the crab-apple-tree, "if there's anything you require, do, for goodness' sake, say so!"
When the keeper's old dog came out and wanted to rub himself, he remained standing in amazement and looked at the fence with his one, half-blind eye.
"You can go back to the garden and rub yourself against the real apple-trees!" said the crab-apple-tree, haughtily. "I stand here with a mistletoe and must be treated with the utmost care. If I die, the mistletoe dies: do you understand? I have been written about in the papers. I am the most important tree in the wood!"
"Yes ... you're all that!" said the dog and jogged home again.
