'Yes, I know I am timid, and cling to my parent tree for security and protection. What would you do if you were free? We are so happy here, I would not leave my home; the soft breezes are ever among us with cheerful stories of the countries they have visited to amuse us; and as to the birds, why, all the day long they are singing their sweetest melodies to gladden our hearts and cheer us.'
'I have heard their songs until I am quite tired of their sameness,' was the ungrateful response; 'besides, in a few months the cold winds will be here, and then we shall fall to the ground and be trodden under foot—that will be the end of us. So I am determined to see something of the world before that time comes. I shall go off with the first north wind that visits us—so I tell you. You will not reason me out of my plan.'
'Oh, stay, stay with us!' cried the trembling listener; 'you cannot surely know the sorrow you would cause, nor the troubles you would have to endure. It is true we leave our kind branches but to die, but we are not carelessly trodden on; the rustling of we poor faded leaves beneath man's feet recall to his mind pure and holy thoughts of the unknown future, filling his heart with unuttered prayers to the Great Power who changeth not. Then, if we poor leaves can teach a lesson, we have not lived in vain. Do not murmur at your humble fate, dear friend, but stay with us, contented with your simple destiny and the goodness of God.'
The Aspen leaf ceased speaking, overcome by its emotion, whilst the little grumbler, silenced, but not convinced, turned sulkily away. It did not relish the kind advice of its true friend, nor did it at all intend to follow it, but still it settled down on its tiny twig so very quietly, that all its relatives firmly believed it had given up its foolish scheme of imaginary happy freedom; but they were mistaken, for a few days after a north wind came quite unexpectedly upon them. It bent the Aspen tree almost to breaking, still the loving little leaves clung trembling to their parent, feeling that their very safety rested on their keeping close to it. Then, finding its strength was in vain, away the north wind rushed to the sturdy old Oak, swaying its branches wildly about, and even making them crack in its fierce rage.
But the Oak reared its proud head defiantly, and its leaves hung tightly on—all save one. Alas! with a mocking laugh at his friends' and his brothers' fears, he threw himself into the arms of the cruel north wind, who bore him swiftly away, and ere the night came the foolish leaf lay faded and dead.
As he was whirled away, a sad, sad moan sighed through the branches of the old Oak. 'Twas a cry of anguish for its wilful child.
The bright summer was gone.
One by one the leaves were falling. With a gentle rustle they fell from their parent trees, and lay in their faded beauty upon the earth.
The little Aspen leaf lingered, but one day a soft, sweet zephyr came and gently released her, and she fluttered slowly down to the calm bosom of the little brook, who had, alas! seen many flowers bloom and die.