The Arkansaw traveler., 1886-05-15

uSHTu uiiil tSLl these NOnITuuS tAtukS and she never wearied with the listen ing
 How the oak tree loves her. said the ash The lazy vine has naught to do but twine herself about the arrogant oak tree and hear him tell his wondrous storiesl'
 The ivy heard these envious words, and they made her very sad but she said nothing of them to the oak tree, and that night the oak tree rocked her to sleep as he repeated the lullaby a zephyr was singing to him.
 There Is storm coming over the hills, said the oak tree one day The east wind tells me so; the swallows fly low, and the sky is dark. Clasp me round with thy dear arms. my beloved, and nestle close unto my bosom and no harm shall befall thee
 have no fear. murmured the ivy; and she clasped her arms most closely about him and nestled unto his bosom.
 The storm came over the hills and swept down upon the greenwood with deafening thunder and vivid lightning. The storm-king himself rode on the blast: his horses breathed flames and his chariot trailed through the air ikea serpent of fire The ash fell before the fury of the storm.king, and the cedars groaning fell, and the hemlocks and pines-but the oak tree alone quailed not.
 Ono" cried the storm-king augrilv the oak tree does not bow to me-he does not tremble in my presence We shall see.
 With that the stormking hurled n mighty thunder-bolt at the oak tree and the brave, strong monarch was riven Then. with shout of triumph the storm-king rode away
 Dear oak tree you are riven by the storm-kings thunderbolt' cried the ivy in anguish
 Ay' said the oak tree feebly; my end has come; see, am shattered and helpless.
 But l am unhurt, remonstrated the ivy, and will bind up your wounds and nurse you back to health and vigor'
 And SO it was that, although the oak tree was ever afterwards riven and broken thing, the ivy concealed the sears on his shattered form and covered his wounds all over with her soft foliage
 "l had hoped, dear one, she said, to grow up to thy height to live with thee among the clouds and to hear the solemn voices thou didst hear Thou wouldst have loved me better then?
 But the old oak tree said Nay, nay. my beloved; l love thee better as thou art, for with thy beauty and thy love thou eomfortcst me in my old age.
 Then would the ivy tell quaint stories to the old and broken oak tree-stories she had learned from the bees, the erickcts, the butterflies and the mice when she was an humble little vine and played about the feet of the majestic oak tree, towering in the greenwood with no thought of the tiny shoot that crept towards him with her love And these simple tales pleased the old and riven oak tree; they were not as heroic as the tales the winds, the stars and the clouds told, but they were far sweetcr, for they were tales of contentmcnt of humility, of love
 So the old age of the oak tree was grander than his youth
 And all who went through the green wood paused to behold and admire the beauty of the oak tree then; for about his scared and broken trunk the gentle ivy had so entwined her graceful ten drils and spread her fair foliage, that one saw not the sad havoc of the years nor the ruin of the tempest, but only the glory of the oak trees age, which was the ivy's love and ministering- CHtcago Currftd.