Norwich bulletin., 1912-06-08
WHAT THE OLD TREE SAID


 started off for the little rcd school | house at the crossroads, taking thelr brother for the first time.
 Ire proved a proud pupil, and ad- vanced rapidly in the good opinion or both teachers and schoolmates. No one could spell him down in the fre- quent contests they had, and as Tor numbers. he stood at the head of the class. One or two other boys came into the family. but Harry was all ways my favorite. Oh, hadn't l told you his name2 Well, he was Harry Whitcomb, but I find names hard to speak. and l always called him my own boy for he seemed to like nne more than the others did, and often brought his lessons to do in my com pany
 After a time Harry must leave home to attend a higher school, and how we all missed him! The frequent visits he made to the old home were al ways times of happy reunion, and he never failed to visit me and make me feel that was still hls old friend. He often told me no such fine trees could be found in the city streets, and that one whifr of my piny fragrance was worth more than all the hothouse flowers to be obtained there.
 | After finishing school he found em- | ployment in the city of his choice, where his industry and faithfulness advanced him from one post of re- 1 sponsiblity to another of still greater ! service. All his letters home were read in my hearing, and l waved my i branches in joy at the news l heard. | My boy was always patriotic from the | time when he used to dress me up | in flags for Fourth of July and Memo | rial Day, and in his adopted home the same quality led him into political | circles.
 Here he became a leader of men and gained the favor of many One office ! after another became his until at last 1 his native town was iubilant over the fact that they had furnished the can didate for mayor in that important city, and we were all certain of his success. And so it proved, and great was the rejoicing at the news when it was flashed over the wires to Browns vile. l had always felt glad those wires did not go through my branches, for they kill trees. l am told, but think I should thrill with joy in re- sponse to a message from my own boy"
 Here the pine tree ceased it's talk, and rattled down on me a shower of cones, which effectually reused me from the drowsiness which had so 
 nearly overcome me while listening to
 it's droning voice, but my interest in
 the story led me to the house where l found that the pine trees own boy''
 was a well-known man in my town.
 Yes, we are proud of him. the old
 people told me, and he has never
 forgotten us. He built us this com
 fortable home to take the place of the
 old one, when he found we preferred
 staying here instead of coming to the
 city to live All our children are
 thoughtful of us, but some of them
 have removed to greater distances. and
 we see them less frequently. We are happier here in the shade of the old pine tree than we should be anywhere
 else, 1 am sure. Harry was so fond
 or that old pine tree! He used to talk to 1t like an old friend, and has ofter
 sald, Don't ever cut down the olc
 pine, will you? Some of the dearest memories of my life are wrought in. ! 10 its life, and 1 value it as I would dh oId friend" AN IDLER.