TREES

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 852, 21 December 1929, Page 39

TREES

(Second Prize Story) The lake lay shimmering in the light of the nioon. and its dancing ripples made music as they lapped the shore. Trees bordered this lake and stood darkly silhouetted against the clear sky. Suddenly a tuneful song rang acrossi the water and echoed in the shadows; again it sounded—clear, ringing and gay, it increased into silvery laughter, and a merry little sprite emerged from the darkness and stood in a pool of moonlight on the shore. He sat down, crossed his legs and hummed a tune so melodious that the trees swayed to its rhythm, for they knew this elf, this happy little creature of the woodlands, and each night the}’ looked forward to his coming. Having finished his melody, the elf, Wimple, stood up, raced toward the water’s edge and sprang on to a water-lily leaf which lay idly floating in shallow water. Wimple paddled away into the middle of the lake. But the cruel night wind was watching, for he hated the wood sprite for his love of the trees and flowers. Wimple turned on his leaf to wave good-bye to the trees. The night wind saw his chance and blew with his icy breath. The little elf overbalanced, tipped his leaf, and fell with a splash into the lake. The night wind passed on, smiling . Again the lake lay gleaming in the light of the moon. Trees grew all around the lake, but they were changed. No carefree song echoed and re-echoed in the shadows. Wimple was gone! The trees had before been all alike in size and shape, but now they were altered. Willows hung drooping branches over the water, weeping; poplars stood erect, alert, ready to catch the first note of the song they loved to hear; pohutukawas bent toward the lake, endeavouring to see a quaint elfish face that had gone for ever. Alas! All was changed! The moon sank behind the hiltls, leaving the lake in darkness, but the trees still whispered together and moaned when the night wind rose. They could not forget Wimple the wood elf. —Joy Hill, aged 15.