THE MAN WHO MADE TREES BLOSSOM

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 137, 31 August 1927, Page 6

THE MAN WHO MADE TREES BLOSSOM

A TALE OF OLD JAPAN A dog was heard whimpering outside a cottage door in Japan. The old woman who lived there let the creature in. It was a wretched cur, but she fed it, and in a day or two she and her husband came to love it like a child. Their neighbours, however, had nothing but kicks and abuse for the mongrel. One day, as the good old couple sat in their garden at twilight, they saw the dog digging in an excited manner, giving little cries as he worked. "I must see what he’s after,” said the old man, “for lie’s an intelligent fellow.”

He got a spade, and very soon he came upon a coffer of gold pieces. The dog wagged his tail, and the old couple almost cried with delight. They all three had a good supper that evening. Next day the old couple went round to give a share to all their poorer neighbours, and they told the story freely. The disagreeable couple next door sent round to borrow the wonderful dog, to see if he would bring them fortune also. For some time he did nothing but stare at the sky. Then he trotted off to a corner and began to dig. Alas! when the man took his spade to the place he found nothing but bones and broken crockery! In his rage the man lifted the spade and killed the dog. Then, growing afraid of its master’s anger, he buried it at the foot of a pine tree. The old couple were very sad when their pet did not return. But in the night his spirit came trotting into their room, and said: “Master, cut down the pine tree and make a mortar of the wood, and think of me whenever you use it.” Next day the old man obeyed, but when the old woman began to grind rice in the mortar the grain turned to gold! They made no secret of- their good fortune, nor did they refuse to lend the mortar to the wicked neighbours. But when these people began to grind the rice became evil-smelling mud! The angry couple carried the mortar outside and burned it on a bonfire. That night the dog’s spirit appeared again, and said: “Master, take up the ashes from the bonfire and sprinkle them over your withered cherry tree; it will blossom again.” The old man gathered up the ashes, and threw a handful on the dead tree. It immediately burst into radiant blossoms. After that he went up and down the country, restoring poor people’s withered trees for them, till the story of his fame reached the emperor. He was commanded to perform the miracle in the Royal gardens, and was afterwards loaded with gifts and honours. When the bad couple heard this they gathered up the remaining ashes from the bonfire, and set out for the court. The emperor and his courtiers assembled to watch the performance. But this time the tree remained as dead in every twig, and the ashes had been thrown so clumsily that they halfblinded the emperor below. The bad man was beaten for being an impostor, and crept home to seek the charity of his good neighbour.

There is a feeling of Eternity in youth which makes us amends for everything. To be young is to be as one of the immortals.—Hazlitt.

How cunningly Nature hides every wrinkle of her inconceivable antiquity under roses and violets and morning d e w.—Em er s o n.

The great world spins' forever down the ringing grooves of change.—Tennyson.

Everything great is not always good, but everything good is great.