Brooks's Readers, Third Year Part 3

It was a friendly old tree. Under its branches men and animals found pleasant shade. In the spring it gave blossoms to all that came, and in the fall it dropped apples at their feet.

The apple tree was easy to climb, as d.i.c.k well knew. From its top he could see the sloping hillside and the little brook that flowed through the pasture. Indeed, he spent so much time playing in the old tree that his father often said, "Well, d.i.c.k, has the Apple-Tree Mother kept you out of mischief to-day?"

And so d.i.c.k came to wonder a great deal about the Apple-Tree Mother.

The time of green apples had come, and all day long a hard wind had been blowing. When supper time came d.i.c.k was ill. Perhaps the apple tree could have told the reason.

d.i.c.k was lying on the couch, and his mother was busy making a cup of tea for him.

After he had taken the hot and bitter drink he lay watching the steam that rose from the teakettle. Just as he was closing his eyes in sleep the steam began to turn from white to green. Then an apple tree grew up out of the teakettle and stretched its branches to the ceiling.

"That looks like the apple tree in the corner of our pasture," thought d.i.c.k.

And then he saw a woman sitting in the midst of the branches. She wore a dress that was green and brown, like the apple-tree leaves in the fall.

"I suppose that is the Apple-Tree Mother," said d.i.c.k to himself. "If she is as old as our tree, she must be very old indeed."

Then the Apple-Tree Mother laughed and all the leaves of the tree danced. "My little boy," she said, "I am so old that I have grown young again, and I bring with me pictures and stories of the world that has lived about my tree."

"Pictures and stories!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "Oh, can't you show me some of them?"

"That is just why I came to visit you," she said. "Will you have pictures of animals or of flowers?"

"I would like to see pictures of animals first," said d.i.c.k.

II.

dusty oriole drooping happen handled sadness whistling joyous

Then the room changed to the corner of the pasture. There was the fence and the brook and the old apple tree. Just above the fence, half hidden in the branches, was a nest that held five tiny eggs.

The sound of bird voices was heard, and there in the tree d.i.c.k saw two orioles. They were singing a song together, and somehow d.i.c.k could understand it all. They sang of their little home and of the eggs that lay within it. And they sang of the happy time when five little birds would come to be loved and cared for.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Oriole's Nest.]

Then the two orioles rose slowly into the air and flew across the field. The nest was left alone.

Down the road came a boy whistling and kicking up the dust with every step.

d.i.c.k began to feel very unhappy, for he knew just what would happen next.

The boy in the picture looked up and saw the brown nest among the leaves. "There is an oriole's nest," thought he. And in a moment he had climbed the tree, and the five tiny eggs were in his hand.

"I'll take them home," he said, as he put the eggs into his pocket.

But he handled them so roughly that three were broken.

With an angry word he threw all the eggs on the ground, and then went on whistling and kicking up the dust.

A joyous bird song was heard in the air, and the two orioles darted into the apple tree. The mother bird flew to her nest. Then she gave a cry so sharp and sad that it hurt one's heart to hear it.

The father bird joined the poor mother in her outcries of fright and sorrow. There on the dusty ground lay all that was left of the beautiful eggs.

Far across the field flew the oriole mother, almost wild with sorrow.

The father, with his feathers drooping, sat on a fence post, and his happy songs were changed to notes of sadness.

III.

empty whining shoulder weary stolen crooked cruelly shelter howled rattling pattering limping second wounded terrible banging

The Apple-Tree Mother looked very grave, but she only said, "Shall we have another picture?"

d.i.c.k was afraid to say "No." He lay quite still, looking at the apple tree. The rain was beginning to beat against the leaves. Then he saw a weary little dog come limping to the tree, whining, and licking one of his paws.

He was not a handsome dog. His legs were crooked and one ear was torn.

The branches of the tree bent above him. And when the poor dog looked up at their shelter, one could see how big and soft and sad were his eyes.

With a splashing noise two boys came wading across the brook. Each boy had a fishing pole over his shoulder, and in his hand was a small tin pail in which he had carried bait.

As they came toward the tree one of them pointed to the poor little dog. It was the same boy that had stolen the oriole's eggs.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Now for some fun!" he said. Then both the boys sat down on the ground, and to work they went with a fishing line and one of the empty pails.

They did not see how the apple tree shook its head at them. They did not hear how each raindrop called, "No! no! no!" as it fell pattering on the leaves.

The poor little dog lay resting under the tree, safe from the storm.

All at once he was caught and held by rough hands. He howled with fright and pain, but he could not get away. A strong cord was bound around his thin little body, and his wounded foot was sadly hurt.

At last the boys let him go, and with a wild bound he jumped through the fence and ran along the road.

But oh, what terrible thing is rattling and banging around him? At every leap he is cruelly struck on his crooked little legs.

d.i.c.k had turned his head the other way. His cheeks burned and his heart was sad. Then he opened his eyes and saw his mother standing beside him with a second cup of bitter tea in her hand.

"Such a nice sleep as you have had," she said. "I really think you are better. Now sit up and drink this like a man."

Never a word said d.i.c.k. He sat up and drank the bitter tea, while he thought of many things. Had he seen himself in the pictures which the Apple-Tree Mother had brought to his bedside?

--Adapted from "True Fairy Stories."

THE DIAMOND DIPPER