Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1872-01-11
THE OAK TREES CHRISTMAS GIFT.
BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE.

red sandstone pile themselves together &c
form Cape Ann, there stood, not many
years ago, a venerable oak tree. Its years
had been many, and il had seen much
that was sad and strange, and some things
that were more strange and joyful. One
might imagine that every branch could
murmur a history-every Leaf rustic
tale But the oak tree, If it had mys-
terry TO reveal, never while il lived reveal.
ed it, or, perhaps, of the many who had
reclined in its shade. not one had possess
ed the power TO extract significance
from It's multitudinous and ceaseiess
prattle. Certain il Is that no one, even OF
those who had known il longest and most
intimately. ever dreamed there was a
meaning In It's Iow-toned talk.
The ocean alone was the oak trees
confdant they kept Up ver-ending
conversation together The tree opened
its heart unrescrvedly 10 its immeasgrably
ancient friend, who, in return, sent lis
soft messages on The June breezes, or bel
lowed form thunderous warnings on the
September gales No wonder that, under
the guidance Of an Instructor 50 profound
IL wise, of experience so inimitably vast,
vet possessing. in all its vigor, the fresh
ness and power ofan immortal youth, the
oak tree should become inspired, during
the two or three centuries OF Its exist
ence. with countless noble thoughts and
lofty aspirations, and long TO do some.
thing 10 prove itself a worthy pupil of It's
mighty master But many years had
passed, and still the opportunity delayed.
In summer the tree spread a cool shade
across ihe green sward. and in winter gave
broken branches to kindle poor peoples
fires; more ii could not do, and yet with
this ii was not satisfied Ii yearned for
task commensurate with the height OF its
love and knowledge; gladly would il have
given up its life in the accomplishment of
an object worthy of its sacrifice; but alas,
j; was but a tree, and doomed TO stand
forever where it grew. Why had it not
been made a man, speaking in language
men could conpfchend-abie 10 walk
amongst them, and pour forth the truth
and wisdom with which its soul was over
burdenedg In the lonely nights the oak
tree tossed its great arms unanimously
abroad, and call to the sea for comfort
and counsel; and the sea beat out re-
sounding answer on the shore, bidding it
wait, and trust to the future to bring the
opportunity at last
One night, in the heart Of winter, the
oak stood looking out across the gloomy
ocean, its bare brown arms laden with
newly. fallen snow. The prospect was
bleak and dismal one, relieved only by
the warm glow of candle in the window
of neighboring cottage. BY the candle
sat the young wife Of Skipper Donnc, who
owned the fastest schooner on the coast
and near at hand, in cradle, young
child lay sleeping. The mother, ever and
anon, would turn her face TO the window,
and shade Of anxiety would fit across
her sweet and thoughtful features but
when she Looked upon the sleeping child
the shade would soften and tighten, and
merge at last into "a mothers smile AS
the hours passed on, however, and still
her husband did not return, her eyes
were turned more often to the window
than 10 the child. The oak tree wished,
from the bottom of its heart, that il could
have ssothed and comforted her stand
ing, as it did, on the plot of ground be
longing To the cottage il felt a special in
terest and affection for its inhabitants. 1t
rustled its crisp brown leaves, and sighed
sympathizingly; but the wife of Skipper
Donnc never so much as looked at it, I'M
less il were to shudder at its cold branch
es, outlined against the wintry sky. The
oak tree was in despair, and had not the
heart to seek consolation even from the
immemorial friend who sobbed and muir
INJURED among the weeds and rocks on the
shore. IL had never felt quite SO misera-
BILE.
All al once there sounded on the breeze
the noise of rustling sails, the splash of
waves against the ships side, and the
hoarse but low-spoken orders Of the skip
per 20 his men. The schooner brought
up against the wind, and cast her anchor.
Dark figures moved to and fro on her
deck then the boat was launched, some
heavy, solid object was lowered into il,
the men followed, and the skipper took
his place at the helm. They rowed ashore
with muffled oars, and drew the boat up
silently on sandy spot between two rocks.
Then the heavy, solid object was lifted
out, and borne with difficulty up the
bank, and set down at the oak trees foot.
1t was square, massive chest, heavily
clamped with brass, and studded with
nails. Evidently it contained something
of vast value it is in such receptacles as
this that tradition places the ill-gottcn
gains of Captain Kidd, and surely there
was room within its sturdy framework
for a whole fortune of silver and gold.
Perhaps, too, this chest was made heavier
still by the stain Of innocent blood but,
if SO, it Is secret which the oak, in life
or death, has never once revealed, and
therefor let us be thankful.
Let's anchor her here for the present,
my lads" said the skipper to his men.
"Therc's no chance to divide our fortune
till these hawks of custom-house officers
be off our wake Let but this night
pass, and they find us in the morning
safe in port and no tell-tale ballast in the
hold, and we may enjoy a merry Christ
mas even yet. Come now to work !"
Thus urged, the men grasped the heavy
picks and spades they had brought with
them, and in half an hour had made a
deep excavation directly under the oak
trees roots and here the mysterious
chest found its resting place. Then the
earth was shoveled back and stamped
down fresh snow was brought and scat
tered over it, and soon not sign of the
recent disturbance remained. The la
borers paused, and their captain spoke
again
"And now, my lads" said he, eve
part for this night. But first let us join
hands, and swear never, in life or death,
to reveal what lies beneath yon oak tree
1t belongs to us: we have labored and
fought for II +; let no outsider, then, de-