THE TALKING TREES

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 946, 12 April 1930, Page 31

THE TALKING TREES

One fine morning Cyril lay in the hammock under the trees, and he tried to decide what he would like beet to do. So many pleasant things occurred to him.

But before he had decided which of them he tvould like best to do, his mother came out on the porch and said: “Cy, my boy, I inust go into town, so will you please stay here and tell the men where to plant the new tree? It is to go where that stake is. Goodbye, dear. I’ll not be long." How, remaining at home and telling some workmen where to plant a tree was not one of the pleasant things Cy had in mind, but of course he said: ‘‘Very’ well, mother, but you won’t be very long, will you?” When his mother had gone, he” said: ‘‘Oh, dear, having to stay here is about as bad as having my feet planted like a tree. It must be very stupid to be a tree, and have to stay in one spot always.” He went and stood by the stake, with his feet together, and with his arms spread out, and gently waving as if blown by the wind, pretending that he was a tree. “Oh, it would be terrible to be a tree!” he shouted, and then leaped and ran and turned handsprings and kicked his heels, because he was so glad that he was a boy. “Well, well! Did you hear what that absurd boy said?” asked a voice that seemed to come from the heart of a large cedar. “Did I hear? Didn't he shout as if he were alone in the world, while we were standing right here?” asked an elm tree in reply. “Strange manners, I must say!” declared a handsome beech. “But what can you expect from such fidgety creatures? Humans don’t remain quiet long enough to ha.ve repose and real manners. Besides, he may not have realised that we could understand him. That is one strange thing about humans—-they don’t seem to realise that the rest of us have any feelings or any sense.” Cy was so astonished that he sat flat on the ground, and stared up at the trees. “I beg your pardon—l didn't know that you could hear and talk,” he gasped. “Didn’t I tell you so? Humans think we know nothing,” said the beech. “Now, fancy their having the cheek to be sorry for us, and to think that we lead, stupid lives, because we don’t dash about as they do!” The cedar tree looked up proudly at the sky, and exclaimed: “The absurd little fellow! How thankful we ought to be that we can stand here year in and year out, and be bathed oy tho rain and be fanned bv the winds, and be fed by the air and the earth, instead of hustling about for food and clothing and shelter like humans! ” ‘A’es, indeed.’ Wouldn’t wo look silly hunting- about for a tub largo enough to bathe in!” cried the elm. “Wouldn’t it be terrible to have to eat cornel beef and cabbage!" At this Cy rolled over on the grass and laughed. “But you always have to look at the sanie things/’ ho said. “You can’t go to parties and see strange sights!” The beech replied: “The parties and strange sights come to us. That is much better. Circus parades, garden parades, airplanes—all sorts of things pass by. And all w© have to do is to stand still and be trees.” Cy pulled a funny face, and said: ‘But if everybody followed your example and stood still, nothing would pass by.” “That’s so!” gasped one tree after another. , well!” remarked the cedar. Perhaps the old earth needs all kinds of creatures—those that stand still and those that move about. But I am glad I am a tree!” “And I am glafr I am a boy!” shouted Cy, kicking his heels, to be sure they hadn’t taken root, “Well, nobody would take you for anything else! Boy, do you know where the lady wants this tree planted? asked a man. “Who are you talking to, anyhow?” 1 was just pretending,” answered Cy, and showed the man the stake. THE DIFFERENCE Customer: You say you have sultanas at sevenpence and at ninenerce a pound What is the difference? Loy: Twopence, madam. T he Woodpecker is guarding 50m kind thoughts for Trixie, Imelda RyarT Sheridan * Fileen Kiely and Muriel Peggy Danaker, Karaki: You are enrolled as a Sunbeam, Peggy, and vour membership card will reach you soon! Aie you interested in competitions? Joan Petterson, Whangarei: Yes I read about that sad accident. Joan. PerS P G, f , you wrote to Gloria Rawlinson at JJ Gladstone Road, Parnell, Auckland, WhH V l° send you a copy of “The Little White Pigeon.” I like that and “The Singer as well as any poems she has written. The Little Thought sends a special wish to your baby niece. Harry Towler, Ohura: Welcome, Harry. Your painting has arrived in Happy Town, °;Od I hope I shall soon hear ail about Lioyd Morison. National Park: And you would like to be “one of my little penboys.’ Most certainly you shall be a little “pen-boy,” Lloyd, and I shall love to have your letters. Your birthday is in the same month as mine, so we are sure to be the best of friends. A big package of love for this laddie. Graham Gemming, Te Puke: Your painting is excellent, Graham. The Little Thought wants to know if you borrowed the colours from the fairies. It surely makes a pretty picture. 6