"I want to get higher," sighed the elder twig; "there is plenty to be seen outside."
And he kept growing taller and taller.
"You are going beyond us," cried his sister twigs, "bend down a little, brother."
"If I bent my back I should stop growing," said the twig; and he listened to catch their voices.
"Conceited fellow! he is trying to grow the tallest!" said some of the twigs; and a murmuring swept through the hedge.
One day more of pushing and striving, and he was nearly at the top of the hedge. He could no longer see his brother, but he called to him down through the branches.
"Brother, where are you?" he cried, "and what do you see down there?"
"I am wrapped up in softness," said the fair younger brother; "the green boughs are round me, the wind does not touch me—all round me is nothing but green. Just down below me grows a round, white daisy—oh, such a beautiful daisy! All the day long I am looking at her."
The first brother felt a little lonely when he heard all this, but the sun still drew him upward. The next day he was quite at the top of the hedge, and a head and shoulders taller than any of his brothers. The voice of his younger brother came up to him, but it sounded very faint and far away.