Then men came with axes and cut up the tree and carried all of it away.
When the hot summer days came the sun beat down upon the old, rough Stone and he missed the shade of the gnarled tree. "My! It's hot!" said the old, rough Stone, "I wish the gnarled tree with its pretty rustling leaves were here again to shade me and keep me cool!"
When winter came the old, rough Stone missed the leaves which fell around him and kept him warm.
"Oh dear! How cold it is!" he cried, "I wish the gnarled tree would come back and scatter his leaves about me to protect me from the cold!"
So years and years and years passed, and the great old, rough Stone lay all alone.
"I wish another squirrel would come to eat nuts upon me!" he thought. "Squirrels are such knowing little creatures, I am sure another might drop a nut which would grow into a lovely tree to keep me company."
But, many more years passed, and never again did a tiny squirrel sit upon the old, rough Stone and eat nuts. And never again did another tree grow above the old, rough Stone to keep him company.
"Ah me!" sighed the old, rough Stone, "We never know how well off we are until we lose something we really need!"