The dry leaves and small twigs crackled under the little old man’s feet as he walked along.
He could hear the soft, rippling sound of the water as it ran over the stones in the brook.
He knew that in the shade of the bending willow trees little fishes played in the water.
Blue sky was above him. Green grass was all around him. Flowers grew at his feet.
Was not the forest a glorious place in which to be!
The queer little old man drew in a deep, deep breath.
The air was filled with the perfume of the pine trees.
“Tap, tap, tap!” Who is disturbing the peace of the forest? It sounds like a carpenter with his hammer.