“How well you can talk!” said the little mice, and the next night they came again and brought with them four other little mice who also wanted to hear the tree’s history.
The more the tree spoke of his youth in the forest the more vividly he remembered it. “Those were pleasant times,” he remarked in conclusion, “and they may come again. Thumpty Klump fell down stairs, and yet for all that he won the princess. Perhaps I, too, may win a princess;” and then the fir-tree thought of a pretty little birch-tree that grew in the forest. She was a very real and very lovely princess to him.
“Who is this Thumpty Klump?” the little mice inquired.
So he related the tale. He could remember every word of it perfectly, and the little mice were so pleased they jumped for joy. The night following, several more mice came, and on Sunday they returned and brought with them two rats. The rats, however, declared that the story was not at all amusing, and the little mice, after hearing the rats’ opinion, did not like it so well either.
“Do you know only that one story?” asked the rats.
“Only that one,” answered the tree. “I heard it on the happiest evening of my life, though I did not then know how happy I was.”
“It is a miserable story,” the rats declared. “Do you know none about pork and tallow? Don’t you know some storeroom story?”
“No,” said the tree.
“Well, then, we have heard enough,” said the rats, and they went their way.
They did not come again, nor did the little mice. As the lonely days passed, the tree sighed and said: “It was very pleasant when those lively little mice sat around me listening to my words. Now that, too, is all past. However, I still have the pleasure of remembering it.”