The Fir Tree
He did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air; he did not care for the little cottage children that ran about and prattled when they were in the woods looking for wild-strawberries. The children often came with a whole pitcher full of berries, or a long row of them threaded on a straw, and sat down near the young tree and said,
"Oh, how pretty he is! What a nice little fir!" But this was what the Tree could not bear to hear.
"Oh, how pretty he is! What a nice little fir!" But this was what the Tree could not bear to hear.