The Van Buren press., 1895-07-06

maiden.
"A heart with your name and mine.r y
answered Hans, as he continued to
carve.
When the work was finished they
both looked at it, well pleased, and the
tree was as happy as II king had
hung golden chain upon her.
Truly, men are splendid people,"
thought she.
Now the hunter began to sing. The
tree had listened many times to the
song of the finch and thrush, but she
heard now for the first time something
very different from bird songs.
Listen, Hans" said the girl, when
the hunter paused in his song. Your
song reminds me of something.
know-peop1e say-that in the autumn
you go secretly into the woods for
game. Let the poachihg GO The
forester Is your enemy. You know
why-and II he should meet you posch-
Ing In the woods, then-heavensl my
Hansl II You should be brought to me
with q bullet through your breast"
The young man bent over the girl,
who leaned caressingly on his
shoulder, and kissed her lips.
People talk too much; don't believe
everything they say, sweetheart" And
putting his arm around her they went
singing through the forest.
When the couple disappeared among
the trees man in hunters dress crept
from the bushes. He carried his gun
on his back and knife in his belt.
His face was white and distorted; he
went up to the beech-tree and beheld
the heart that Hans had carved, he
laughed wildly and drew out his knife
to destroy the writing, then changing
his mind he thrust the blade again in
its sheath. Shaking his fist threaten
ingly in the direction where the couple
had disappeared, he muttered, grind
ing his teeth: III meet you, you
poacher, only once, on forbidden
ground, you will have heard the
cuckoo sing for the last time" With
these words he went into the woods.
And the tree shook her head sadly.
The beech tree got many a sight Of
the faces of the children of men in the
course of the summer-the poor women
gathering leaves or dry bark, the
berry pickers, foresters and pilgrims.
But the most cherished amid theguests
who gathered under her leafy roof
were the youth and brown-haired
maid. They made weekly visits to her,
spoke OF their love, embraced each
other, and day by day the beech tree
| came to love them more.
One morning before sunrise, when
the mountains were just casting off
their gray mist caps, Hans came alone.
He carried gun on his shoulder and
stepped as lightly through the under
brush as if he would take his sweet
heart by surprise. This time his COM
ing had nothing to do with the lovely
Eva-but the stag comes this way to
drink
At the foot of the tree the hunter
paused and stood as motionless as the
beech herself. The cool morning wind
blew and the mist disappeared in
heavy clouds. The gay birds futtered
and sang about the stream. The un-
derbrush rustled. Hans raised his gun.
A shot rang out on the clear air. Hans
dropped his gun, sprang convulsively
INTO the air and fell to the ground. A
man strobe hastily from the thicket
with smoking gun in his left hand.
The beech tree knew him well. The
huntsman bent over the murdered
man. ut is all over with him." and
ia king his gun he vanished into the
bushes.
The bright sun rose and shone upon o
still form with set white face. Sorrow
| fully the tree bent over him and wept
bitter tears, and the little robins flew
~ and covered the dead face and
staring eyes with leaves and twigs
In the afternoon some woodcutters
came that way and found the body.
"He has been shot while poaching,"
the said, and taking him gently up
they bore him to the distant valley
An old man fingered by the tree. He
drew his knife and carved a cross over
the heart that Hans had made. Then
he took off his hat and breathed q
prayer. The leaves of the green crest
rustled, for the tree prayed, too, in her
own way.
For many summers on the anniver-
sary Of the death of the murdered man,
the maiden came to the spot, knelt
down and wept and prayed, and every
time she was paler, more fragile. One
day she did not come, and the tree
/ murmured "She Is dead!' and SO it
was.
Years passed. The beech had be-
come a mighty tree. Her bark was
covered with brown moss. The wild
vines clustered about her trunk, and
heart and cross were both nearly
covered. man came one day and
made a mark on the bark, and the tree
knew her time had come. She bore
the sign of her destruction-shc must
soon fall. Farewell, thou green and
sunny forest! She had not long to wait
for the woodmen, who came, and with
cruel axes cut into her very life.
A gloomy, glowering man in hunters
dress, with long gray hair and beard,
directed their movements The beech
knew him right we'll, and he appeared
to recognize the tree. He came close
to her and tearing away both moss
and vine he saw that heart and GROSS
were safe. ''Here it was" he NUT
tered, and horror shook his very'frame.
"Back, Herr Forester Backf cried
the men. "The tree is falling"
The warned man stepped back, but
it was too late. With a deafening crash
the beech fell to the ground and buried
the forester under her corpse. When
they picked him up he was dead.
The beech had crushed his head. And