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Updated: May 3, 2025
"I told you so." "Horrid vulgar fellow," said the nearest poplar. "Horrid ... vulgar ... fellow," whispered the poplars along the avenue. The winter passed and the spring came. Up in the middle of the willow-tree's top peeped a little green sprout. "Hullo, who are you?" asked the willow-tree. "I'm just a little dandelion," said the sprout.
There was any amount of accommodation for the two of us on the good-natured branches of the old willow-tree. When he had settled himself, my companion said, "Now, Syb, I'm ready for you. Fire away. But wait a minute, I've got something here for you which I hope you'll like."
"What are those funny little things up in the willow-tree's top?" said the oak. "Just look ... he's swelling, right up there ... it's a regular eruption.... If only we don't catch it!" "Oh dear no, those are buds!" said the willow-tree. "I can't understand it, but I can feel it. They are real live buds. I am turning green again, I am getting a new crown."
We went down to a stream under a big willow-tree, and he started on the usual, but I told him he must not say anything more to me on that subject, and if he were the man I thought him he would not allow Elizabeth to marry the Compensator she was no more in love with than I was. It didn't sound polite to say no, and yet I couldn't truthfully say yes, so I just sighed and shook my head.
Yes, he's like you in a way, but ever so much worse. There's nothing left of him but a very thin shell and just a wretched twig or two in his top. Almost all his roots are dead, too. And he's always full of owls and bats and other vermin. It's a terrible life he leads." "I'm very sorry to hear it," said the willow-tree. "I merely say, look out!" said the oak.
"Here's some one coming after you," said Bob, in a low voice; and he shrank away, leaving Dexter perched up in the crown of the tree, where he stopped without speaking, as he saw Helen come down the garden, and she walked close by him without raising her eyes, and passed on. Dexter got down out of the willow-tree with a seed in his brain.
But never mind that now. I have felt most awfully sorry for you since I heard that you were about to become hollow. Take care, that's what I say. It's a terrible misfortune." "I really don't know what to do to prevent it," said the willow-tree. "No more do I," said the oak. "But I tell you for all that: take care.
"Not idly is it written: 'Destiny has four feet, eight hands and sixteen eyes: how then shall the ill-doer with only two of each hope to escape? An even more ignominious end may await Fang, should he escape drowning, for, conveniently placed by the side of the stream, this person has introduced a spreading willow-tree.
"Perhaps that's what it is," said the willow-tree, sadly. "Well, there's nothing to be done. What can't be cured must be endured." "Now listen to me, Willow-Tree," said the oak. "On the whole I don't like you." "I don't know that I ever did you any harm," said the willow-tree. "Very likely," said the oak. "Only I thought you so arrogant ever since the time when you came the cutting over us.
The keeper, who was sitting on the box beside the coachman, pointed to the willow-tree: "It's that fellow there," he said. "He was planted by mistake and now he has stood and grown big. He shelters the ground from the wind and shades it from the sun, so there is always a big puddle under him, long after the rest of the avenue is dry." "Did you ever hear of such a thing?" said the squire.
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