THE TALKING TREE

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 367, 30 May 1928, Page 6

THE TALKING TREE

The Greeks and Romans crowned their heroes with evergreen myrtle, and since then it has wreathed many a bride, and reigned over all sorts of joyful celebrations. There came to a Far Eastern land a brave knight and his wonderful winged horse, beloved companion of his travels. Tired after their day’s journey, they lay down to rest under the spreading branches of a myrtle tree. The knight was seeking the most beautiful palace In the world, said to be not far distant from that spot. As he mused on his quest, a voice hailed him from the boughs above. “Who or what are you?” demanded the knight, starting to his feet and peering upwards. “Though I am now but a myrtle tree,” replied the voice, “I was once the Paladin of France. I, too, came to see the enchanted palace, whose walls are of gold, with doors and pillars of precious stones. But when I had eaten there, the enchantress spitefully changed me into this form.” Gummy tears streamed down the ■>ark of the wailing myrtle, but the knight paid no heed to its story. Next day he came to the palace, and feasted on a sumptuous repast spread ready for him. As he was quaffing a last glas of rare wine he suddenly felt his toes turning into roots, and saw' with horror his fingers changing into myrtle leaves. Within a few moments he would have become a tree had not his sagacious steed, flying to his aid, gripped the witch in its powerful jaws. There followed a parley, and the knight, regaining his freedom, forced the enchantress to break the spell she had cast over other visitors to her palace. So all the myrtle trees near by suddenly became princesses and nobles again.