Just where a forest ended grew a pine tree taller and more beautiful than all the others in the forest. Far away could be seen its feathery round crown, whose soft branches waved so gracefully when the wind blew across the plain.
At the foot of the pine tree the fields of grain began.
Here the farmer sowed seeds of many kinds, but the flax was sowed nearest the pine. It came up beautiful and even, and the pine thought a great deal of the slender green thing.
The flax stalk raised itself higher and higher, and near the close of summer it bore a little blue helmet on his head.
“Thou art so beautiful!” said the tall pine.
The flax bowed itself low, but raised again so gracefully that it looked like a billowy sea.
The pine and the flax often talked to each other and became great friends.
“What folly!” said the other forest trees to the pine. “Do not have anything to do with the flax; it is so weak. Choose the tall spruce or the birch tree. They are strong.”
But the pine would not desert the flax.
The thistle and other small plants talked to the flax.