Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1896-04-03
THE OAK TREE AND THE IVY.


From "A Little BOOK OF Ptohtable tales, pup
lished by Charles Scrbners Sons
In the greenwood stood a mighty oak.
So majestic was he that all who came that
way paused to admire his strength and
beauty, and all the other trees of the green
wood acknowledged him to be their mon
arch.
Now it came to pass that the ivy loved
the oak tree, and, inclining her graceful
tendrls where he stood, she crept about
his feet and twined herself around his
sturdy and knotted trunk. And the oak
tree pitied the ivy.
"O!' he cried, laughing boisterously,
but good-naturedly, go! so you love me,
do you, little vine? Very well, them play
about my feet, and / will keep the storms
from you, and tell you pretty stories about
the clouds, the birds and the stars"
The ivy marveled greatly at the strange
stories the oak tree told; they were stories
the oak tree heard from the wind that loi-
tered about his lofty head and whispered
to the leaves of his topmost branches.
Sometimes the story was about the great
ocean in the east, sometimes of the broad
prairies in the west, sometimes of the ice
king who lived in the north, and some
times of the flower queen who dwelt in
the south. Then, too, the moon told a
story to the oak tree every night-or at
least every night she came to the green
wood, which was very often, for the green
wood is very charming spot, as we all
know. And the oak tree repeated to the
ivy every story the moon told and every
song the stars sang
"Pray, what are the winds saying now?"
or "What song is that l hear?" the ivy
wOUld ask; and then the oak tree
would repeat the story or the song, and the
ivy would listen in great wonderment.
Whenever the storms came the oak tree
cried TO the little ivy: ceiling close to me
and no harm shall befall you. See how
strong l am! The tempest does not so
much as stir mel mock its furyI'
Then seeing how strong and brave he
was the ivy Rugged him closely; his
brown, rugged breast protected her from
every harm and she was secure.
Years went by; how quickly they flew
spring, summer, winter, and then spring
again, summer, wnter-ah, life is short in
the greenwood as elsewhere! And now
the ivy was no longer a weakly little vine
to excite the pity of the passer by. Her
thousand beautiful arms had twined hither
and thther around the oak tree, covering
his brown and knotty trunk, shooting
forth bright. delicious foliage, and
stretching far up among his lower branches.
Then the oak trees pity grew into a love
for The ivy, and the ivy was filled with a
great JOY. And the oak tree and the ivy
were wed one June night, and there was a
wonderful celebration in the greenwood;
AMI there was the most beautiful music, in
which the pine trees, the crickets, the ka-
tydids, the frogs aud the nightingales join
ed in pleasing harmony.
The oak tree was always good and gen.
tie to the ivy. "There is storm coming
over the hills" he woald say. "The east
wind tells me so; the swallows fly low in
the air and the SKY is dark. Cling close to
me, my beloved, and no harm shall befall
you"
Then, confdentially and with an always
growing love, the ivy would cling more
closely to the oak tree and no harm came
to her.
"How good the oak tree is to the ivy!"
said the other trees of the greenwood. The
ivy heard them, and she loved the oak tree
more and more. And although the ivy was
now the most outrageous and luxuriant
vine in all the greenwood, the oak tree re-
garded her still as the tender little thing
he had laughin ely called to his feet that
spring day many years before-the same
little ivy he had told about the stars, the
clouds and the birds. And, just as pa
tlently as in those days, he had told her of
these things he now repeated other tales
the winds whispered to his topmost boughs
tho tales of the ocean in the east, the
prairies in the west, the ice king in the
north and the flower queen of the south
Nesting up on his brave breast and in his
stou' arms the ivy heard him tell these
wondrous things, and she never weared
with the listening.
GLOW the oak tree loves herl" said the
ash. 1.-The lazy vine has naught to do but
to Irvine herself about the arrogant oak
tree and hear him tell his wondrous sto-
ries."
The ivy heard these envious words and
they made her very sad, but she said moth
ing of them to the oak tree, and that night
the oak tree rocked her to sleep as he re-
peated the lullaby 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 in the air
and the sky is dark. Clasp me round about
with thy dear arms, my beloved, and nestle
close under my bosom, and no harm shall
befall thee.'
81 have no fear" murmured the ivy land
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 upon the blast his horses
breathed flames and his chariot trailed
through the air like a serpent of fire. The
ash fell before the violence of the storm
kings fury, and the cedars groaning fell,
and the hemlocks and the pines but the
oak tree alone quailed not.
"O!' cried the storm king, angrly,
'the oak does not bow to me; he does not
Tem0le in my presence. Well, we shall
see."
With that, the storm king hurled
mighty thunderbolt at the oak tree, and
the brave, strong monarch of the green
wood was riven. Then, with shout of
triumph, the storm king rode away.
Dear oak tree, you are rlven by the
storm kings thunderbolt!" cried the ivy
in anguish.
GAY" said the oak tree, feebly, "my
END has come; see, am shattered and
helpless"
"But l am unhurt," demonstrated 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 afterward a riVen and broken
thing, the ivy concealed the scars upon his
shattered form and covered his wounds all
over with her soft foliage.
81 had hoped, dear one" she said, "to
grow up to thy height, to live with thee
among the clOuds and IN haar tha sOlaDnn