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Updated: June 21, 2025
"It is just as though I had quite a piece of the world in my head," said the willow-tree. "It's not healthy to have too much in one's head," said the oak. "Once I had a large and glorious crown," said the willow-tree, sadly. "Now I am satisfied and delighted with less. We must take life as it comes." "That's so," said the wild rose-bush. "It will be all right," said the elder-bush.
"Ah, my dear old Conrad," sighed Haydn, sinking into the easy-chair which Conrad had placed for him under the fragrant elder-bush, "a thousand years hence no one will know any thing about us, and we shall be nothing but dust returned to dust.
The Elder-bush moved and spoke: "Thou layest in my shadow; my perfume flowed round thee, but thou understoodst me not. The perfume is my speech, when Love kindles it." The Evening-Wind came gliding past, and said: "I played round thy temples, but thou understoodst me not. Breath is my speech, when Love kindles it."
The keeper sat down in the ditch and waited, for he thought that the wisest thing to do: "The young rascal has the squire's temper," he said. "What did I tell you?" said the elder-bush. "You should always listen to those who know." "It's an awful tension to be in," said the willow-tree. "If only I don't go to pieces for sheer fright.
"What did I tell you?" said the elder-bush, who stood quite full of dark-green leaves. "Now I have a crown again," said the willow-tree. "Even though it's not so smart as the old one, it's a crown, as nobody can deny." "No," said the wild rose. "That's true enough. Besides, one can live very happily without a crown.
Then, one day, there had been a great chattering about the warm cup of milkweed fiber and thistle-down in the elder-bush, husky cheeping from the nest mingling with the joyous chirps of the mother-bird as she tilted and danced on its edge or fluttered ecstatically above it; and from the end of a swaying twig close by had swelled the proud song of the male. The big egg had hatched.
I think it must be better to make an end of it than to stand and get hollower day by day." "We all cling to life," said the willow-tree sadly. "And what will become of my boarders?" "They may be thankful that they lived so long," said the wild rose-bush. "Let's first see what happens," said the elder-bush. "I have been through times that looked worse still and have escaped for all that."
That's a great honour for me." "It's folly," said the oak. "He must be going to die." "We all have to die," said the elder-bush. One day the squire came walking down the avenue. He had the keeper with him and his own two children, a little boy and a little girl. They had not been long at the manor-house and looked about them inquisitively, for everything was new to them.
It will be just like that with the willow-tree. He comes of a tough family too." "Do you hear that?" said the nearest poplar. "The elder-bush is comparing his family with ours! Let's pretend not to hear him. We'll stand erect and whisper." "We'll stand erect and whisper ... whisper ... stand erect and whisper," whispered the poplars along the avenue.
The angler is hidden by an elder-bush, but I can see the fly drop delicately, artistically on the water. Fishing upstream, too! There is a bit of broken water there, and the midges dance in myriads; a silver gleam, and the line spins out, and the fly falls just in the right place.
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