The record-union., 1891-12-26
THE STORY OF In OAK TREE.

makes his life Perhaps the sap in his
Limbs circulates more freely than it does
in ours-perhaps he is quicker, higher
intelligence. Be that as it may, I. who
Lave lived four hundred years, have not
suffered or enjoyed as do men who only
reach four score years. Moreover, there
are some who do not live longer than
twenty years-tender sapIing, as ii were,
who yet seem glad to lie down and rest
in the earth. Truly, it seems sad to me
tlat they should so greatly care to lie
still and be forgotten by all, seeing that
i is the one great desire of our young
seed TO free itself from the clinging soil
and stand erect, facing the keen winds of
Ieaven. Yet, know full well that men
lave great trials to bear, for I myself
have seen much OF human sorrow.
The story / am-about to tell is one that
understand well, for I saw its begin
ring and its tragic end. 1t is as well
nown to my neigbbors as to my young
branches; oftentimes have | told it the
latter while they were yet children, and /
ad much ado to rock them to sleep with
the winds help.
Indeed, the wind is a great ally of mine.
lie brings me news of the wonderful
cutter world, aTh he has helped me in the
compilation OF this story, being a keen
actions. He 1t was who told me there
was mischief abroad and it was he who
explained 10 me the mystery of the boom
lag noises and the cries and meanings
that were waited to me from the other
side OF the great moors, and who were
the various men that rode past me hur-
I!edIy, some pale and sad, others gay and
eiated-al stained with the dust OF the
roadside and the strange, beautiful-col-
cred human blood.
IL was on a still day in June, little af-
ter such mysterious noises and sounds,
U1at L first saw a strange sight-naught
else but woman, beautiful and young,
supporting on her arm a young man who
seemed sick Of some disease. One of his
LIMBS hung listlessly by his side, and his
lale face was encompassed by a bandage.
lie seemed faint and weary, and me-
thought eager to finish his pilgrimage on
earth, Tor he made many objections and
Ilutterinps. FC
sweetheart he said land the tone of
lis voice was like the speech Of the west
Wind to my tenderest leaflets, ''let me
alone to die here, as all my companions
rave died. Do not, pray you, risk your
beautiful life. / have seen you once again
therefore can l bear to die"
but she was reSOlute, though so young.
She called to another woman older, more
Gnarled than She Counting as men count,
this one might have borne fifty winters
y
barely known twenty summers, and her
lame well suited the ruggedness of her
exterior.
Elizabeth, - she cried, the young and
Iretty one. i pray you help me lay
answered, es, my lady"
Then the two women, with marvellous
smount Of care, helped the man to re-
cline on the soft, green moss that creeps
slong the ground to my roots. Twas
then | noticed that he had wounded foot
which caused him 10 halt in his walk,
and lean somewhat upon the slender
woman; and was much grieved thereat,
laVIng myself. long ago, received a hurt
n my roots, and recalling how much
suffering / endured. When they had
helped him to lay himselfdown, he caught
eagerly at the loose drapery of the Young
Noman's dress and spoke hurriedly
Dorothy sweetheart! You must leave
Ile now. 1t maddens me to lie here a use
less log, and see you expose yourself to
CANCERS for my sakei See, this oak will
shelter me until die; there were no bet
ter, sweeLer death-place, except your dear
arms, in the world, think"
Then she looked down on him with a
Iush on her sweet face, and a light came
Into her eyes.
- My dearest she said, you have
spoken well; the oak shall shelter you
until you are healed of your hurt. 'IiS
l3afy, and has branches which will afford
You resting and a hiding place. And
tnen," she continued, and the red blood
mounted to her cheeks, 81 shall find
means for you to escape to Holland, and
You viii be happy yet, sweetheart"
But he shook his head.
"Dorothy, if aught happened to you
through my fault, there is nothing on
earth below, or ia heaven above, that
would compensate me for it. Think of
NY lying here, maddening with the
Crtrf hot
the way. 'Twere better to drag myself to
Scarborough and let my enemies see how
man Of honor can die! Better then ly-
lag here, trembling lest my sweetheart
meet with disaster l should be impotent
t1avert.n
But she knelt down beside him. 81
pray you, Ralph" she said, s'let me work
ny own will. l will take such care that
one shall track me, or even watch me-
for discovery would mean death to you,
sweetheart. Let me have my wiIlful way,
I;alph.n
Then there was a silence between them,
and waved my branches gently in order
t. show them that / would do my best to
shield them from the enemies they
seemed to fear. My leaves Were so thick
that the good sunshine could scarce pierce
10 the place where they sat, which, me-
tanks, must surely have been an advan-
tage to them. Twas fortunate they
sought shelter this bright summer time
When the leaves sat thick on the branches
instead OF in the winter, when they stand
are and shiyering, the sport OF unruIy
winds. / have heard il said that most
trees have been doomed to suffer in this
wise for the fault OF the one tree that was
too tempting to the first man and woman,
Who were placed for their trial in q gar
cen. How this may be / know not, but
j has always seemed TO me cruel thing
that our leaves should fall when we are
1aost inneed of them
u pray you make no coward Of me-
Dorothy" said the man at last, ''for you
now whatever you bid me do [ must
co. l can deny you nothing, SWEET
Then she, exultant, sprang to her feet
and paced me round, looking at me the
hIle with admiring eyes, whereby was
Ike to be much uplifted, for | felt great
pride IN my comeliness, inasmuch as it
vas to be of use in sheltering this pair of
lovers. Mistress Dorothy scanned me
deliberately, seeking a safe resting place
for him she loved, and though some of
my younger branches stretched out their
arms to make themselves attractive in her
eyes young branches have wonderful
way of obtrUding Themselves, she would
Lave none of them, but chose a thick
sturdy limb which was bravely covered
ty short and leaty branches, and when,
after much deIlberatlon, she had at last
come to n satisfactory conclusion. she
called her attendant, and with great care
and tenderness helped the man to attain
the selected branch, and then took leave
Of him with much sadness, and many
warnings that he would not attempt the
descent too often, as the enemy were still
securing the moors. All of this he prom
ised-more, think, to comfort and pacify
her than from any thought of his own
safety; for when she was about to leave
him he begged she would not have any