“He danced about shouting for joy, and each day after that, could fairly see the little sprig turn into a tree.
“Johnny told him how the seeds sent tiny roots down into the earth and pushed the stem up through the ground, and Jack could hardly leave the spot which had now grown so dear.
“When the little tree was thirsty, the rain gave it drink. The kind wind blew and blew, bringing fresh sweet air for it to breathe, and with every whiff it seemed to swell.
“The spring sunshine warmed it down to its roots, and in time there were twigs with leaf buds, which presently uncurled and opened wide.
“‘See!’ said Johnny, ‘as the wind blows them they look like baby hands throwing kisses!’
“‘Yeth!’ cried Jack, ‘maybe they are the kitheth I planted.’
“‘To be sure,’ Johnny replied, and together they watched it grow day after day, week after week, month after month.
“Jack’s next birthday found the little tree a picture to behold. The trunk was sturdy, and on it there were many branches appearing here and there.
“Jack was quite a boy by this time, and soon after his little dresses were replaced by tiny trousers. His baby talk was no more, and he was now old enough to help care for the little tree.
“He dug about its roots with his wee spade, and Johnny showed him how to enrich the soil, and told him many things about the care of trees.