And the sleepy, fat owl will wake up, the old thing!
As I sing to the birds, the gay happy birds,
The silly young birds in the tree tops.
“Then they tied ribbons to the tallest pine and took hold of the ends and danced a May dance, and their pink and white dresses, with their baby cheeks all flushed, and their golden hair waving, they looked just like the South Wind.
“But of course such nice things could never last. Pretty soon one of the children found a spray of Child of The Oak and plucked it and carried it to the awfully awesome person who was in charge of the party. She said it was:
“‘Remarkably beautiful and most ethereal,’ and, although I haven’t an idea what that means, I know by the way she said it that it must be something hateful. Back she sent the children to gather as much as they could find. They rushed about tearing Child of The Oak up by the roots and it hurt just as much as though someone were to pull Liza’s hair. The tall trees all hung their heads so they wouldn’t see Child of The Oak suffer and the Mother Oak moaned and held out her arms, but of course no human being could understand her. It was so pitiful, so unfair, and no one knew the least thing to do. And then, what do you think? Guess what, Edward Lee! What do you think, Walter? Oh, you never can guess!
“Down from the top of the mountain came the North Wind. Princess went to him, weeping, and, ‘Father Wind,’ she cried, ‘can’t you help Child of The Oak?’
“‘Certainly,’ said North Wind. Down to the May party he swept and blew deep breaths of the pollen that grows on dryads’ wings all over the Child of Oak branches. The pollen that grows on dryads’ wings is deadly poison, you know. So, as soon as the children touched it, they became ill; they found spots of red on their arms, and their faces became swollen as though they had mumps. They itched simply miserably, and all went home sick, and had to be put to bed with salves all over them. And so, they never dared touch Child of The Oak again, because the North Wind had put the poison on her to protect her. When the men came to the mountains they never touched the lovely colored leaves, for they called them ‘Poison Oak.’
“But Princess did not mind, because she knew that the real name was Child of The Oak and that Child of The Oak was the loveliest child in all the hill world.”