The Beech Tree

Tliere stood in the forest an old beech tree. Her top was shattered by lightning, her sides were hollow, and pieces of fungus grew on her bark. She was the oldest of a nuinerons famlly, but j she had seen her children, as soon as they had grown np, fall under the woodman's ax, and only one danghter remained to her. This daughter was a i young beech tree, with smooth bark and heaven aspiring crest and only 80 years old. That is the best year f or a forest tree. The old tree etill thrnst out her twigs and leaves in the spring, but she feit that her life was drawing to a close, for it cost her great suffering to hold herself upright. And because she knew that she must die she feit her love increase for her beantiful daughter. Spring was approaching. The branches ■were still covered with the glittering frost, but the roots began to uncurl, and the warm wind melted the snow. The rivers and brooks were swelling with melted ice. In the meadows the silvery catkins burst from their wrappings, and the snowdrops peeped timidïy up throngh the white carpet of the forest ground. The old tree spoketothe young: "Tonight comes the violent thaw wind. It will throw me down upon my bed of leaves that I have scattered in the course of time, aud I shall go back into the bosom of the mother from whom I carne. Yet before I go home I will bequeath to you a gift that the gentle lord of the forest bestowed upon me when long ago he stopped to rest under my branches. You shall -onderstand men 's words and deeds and share alike in their joys and sorrows. That is the greatest happiness that eau fall to our lot, but be prepared to behold more soxtow than joy. " So spoke the old tree and blessed her daughter. In the night the thaw wind oame frora the west. It buried ships in the waves of the sea ; it rolled great masses of snow from the mountains that destroyed the homes of men in their progress; it roared through the forest, and everything that was old and weak perished. But the strong trees resisted it. It struck the old beech tree to the earth and shook her strong daughter as she wisely bent her head before the blast, and the great wind swept on. Three days the danghter wept sparkling dew for her mother ; then the sun came out and dried her tears. Then began everywhere such stir and commotion that the beech tree had no time to grieve. Her buds swelled and burst and one morning a hundred thousand trembling, tender green leaves sprang into the sunshine. That was joy ! Golden yellow primroses climbed from the ground. They pushed their silken leaves out into the broad sunlight. Red and blue blossoms grew uparound the primroses, and the sweet woodruff uncurled its delicate whirled leaves. That was life. And in the midst of all this bloom and f ragrance the young beech tree stood like a qneen. A flnch built her nest in her branches and a redheaded woodpecker paid her a visit. Once cnckoo came and once a distingnished squirrel with his bushy tail over his head ran up and down to see if he might not find an acorn. But men she had not yet seen this year, and they wonld have been the most welcome gnests of all, since she possessed the power to understand their words and deeds. Af ter all, one morning carne a slender yonng girl with her long brown braids, who walked through the woods straight to the tree. However, her visit did not seem to be for the beech alone. She glanced at the decaying trees on the gronnd and said, "Here is the spot. ' ' Then she sat down her basket filled with May flowers and leaned back against the beech tree without a glance at its green loveliness. The tree held her breath to hear what the maiden would say, bnt the pretty one was silent. Presently from the opposite side appeared a strong young man. He wore a little round hat with a curling feather like a huntsman. He crept up cautiously - so cautiously that hardly a leaf rustled under his feet. But softly as he stepped the quick ear of the maiden perceived his coming. She turned her head toward him, and the tree thought, "Now she will fly. " But the girl did not fly. Instead she sprang toward the yonth and tbrew both arms aronnd his brown neck. "MyHans!" "My Eva!" they cried together. Then they kissed each other passionately, called each other pet nam es, embraced again, and the beech tree found it all very tedious. Later they sat under the tree and spoke of their love. It was an old story they told, but it was all new to the beech tree, and she listened like a cbild to a fairy tale. It was a wonderful surprise to her. The youth arose from the ground, drew out his knifeand began to carve in the bark of the tree. This caused the beech great pain, but she held as still as a walL "What is that to be?" asked the maiden. "A heart with your name and mine, " answered Hans as he continned to carve. When the work was finished, they both looked at it, well pleased, and the trae was as happy as if a king had hang ft golden chain apon her. "Traly, men are eplendid people, " tkgught he. ow the hunter began to sing. She toM had liiMned many timet to the gong of the flnch and thrash, but she ! beard now for the first tiine something ; very different from bird songs. "Listen, Hans," said the girl when the huuter pansed in his song. "Your j song renainds me of something. I know - people say - that in the autumn you go secretly iuto the woods for game. Let the poachiug go. The forester is your ; eueniy. You know why, and if he ghould meet you poaching in the woods, ! tjieu - heavens! mylíans! if yon should hs bronght to me with a bullet through your breasfc. " The young man bent over the girl, i who leaned caressingly on his shoulder and kissed her lips. "People talk toomuch. Don 't beliove everything they say, sweetheart. ' ' And putting his arm around lier they went i singiug through the forest. When the couple disappeared among the trees, a man in hunter's dress crept from the bushes. He carried his gun on his back and a knife in his belt. His face was white and distorted. He went up to the beech tree and beheld the j 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 threateningly in the direction where the couple had disappeared, he muttered, grinding his teeth, "If I meet yon, you poacher, only once on forbidden ground, you will have beard the cuckoo singfor 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 oonrse of the summer - the poor women gathering leaves or dry bark, the berry pickers, foresters and pilgrims. But the most cherished amid the guests who gathered tmder 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 carne alone. He carried a gun on his shoulder and stepped as lightly through the underbrush as if he would take his sweetheart by surprise. This time his coming had nothing to do with lovely Eva - but the stag comes this way to drink I 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 fluttered and sang about the stream. The underbrush rustled. Hans raised his gun. A shot rang out on the clear air. Hans dropped his gun, sprang convulsively into the air and feil to the ground. A man strode hastily from the thicket with a smoking gun in his left hand. The beech tree knew him well. The huntsman bent over the murdered man. "It is all over with him, " he said, and taking his gun he vanished into the bushes. The bright sun rose and shone upon a still form with set white face. Sorrowfully the tree bent over and wept bitter tears, and the little robins flewup and covered the dead face and staring eyes with leaves and twigs. In the af ternoon some woodcutters came that way and found the body. "He has been shot while poaching, " they said, and taking him gently up they bore him to the distant valley. An old man lingered by the tree. He drew his knife and carved a cross over the heart that Hans had made. Then he took off his hat Lind breathed a prayer. The leaves of the green crest rustled, for the tree prayed, too, in her own way. For many summers on the anniversary of the death of the murdered man, the maiden came to the seat, knelt down and wept and prayed, and every time she was paler, more fragüe. One day she did not come, and the tree murmured, "She is dead I" and so it was. Years passed. The beech had become 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. A man came oue day and made a third mark on the bark, and the tree knew her time had come. She bore the sign of her de6truction - she must soon fall. Parewell, thou green and sunny forest ! She had not long to wait for the woodmen, who carne, and with cruel axes cut into her very life. A gloomy, glowering man in hnnter's dress, with long gray hair and beard, directed their movements. The beecb knew him right well, and he appeared to recognize the tree. He came close to her and tearing away both moss and vine he saw that heart and cross were safe. "Here it was,' he nruttered, and horror shook his very frame. "Back, Herr Forester ! Back!" cried the men. "The tree is falling!" The warned man stepped back, but it was too late. With a deafening crash the beech feil 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 the men stood in a circlo roundabout and prayed for his soul.