throughout the lands of the East. And the more the Star was sought for,
and the more its fame increased, so much the more all the people of the
Land of Ind desired to see it. So they ordained twelve of the wisest
and greatest of the clerks of astronomy, that were in all that country
about, and gave them great hire to keep watch upon the Hill of Vaws for
the Star that was prophesied of Balaam.
Now, when Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea, His Star began to rise
in the manner of a sun, bright shining. It ascended above the Hill
of Vaws, and all that day in the highest air it abode without moving,
insomuch that when the sun was hot and most high there was no difference
in shining betwixt them.
But when the day of the nativity was passed the Star ascended up into
the firmament, and it had right many long streaks and beams, more
burning and brighter than a brand of fire; and, as an eagle flying and
beating the air with his wings, right so the streaks and beams of the
Star stirred about.
Then all the people, both man and woman, of all that country about when
they saw this marvelous Star, were full of wonder thereat; yet they knew
well that it was the Star that was prophesied of Balaam, and long time
was desired of all the people in that country.
Now, when the three worshipful kings, who at that time reigned in Ind,
Chaldea, and Persia, were informed by the astronomers of this Star, they
were right glad that they had grace to see the Star in their days.
Wherefore these three worshipful kings, Melchior, Balthazar, and Jasper
(in the same hour the Star appeared to all three), though each of them
was far from the other, and none knew of the others' purpose, decided
to go and seek and worship the Lord and King of the Jews, that was new
born, as the appearance of the Star announced.
So each king prepared great and rich gifts, and trains of mules, camels,
and horses charged with treasure, and together with a great multitude of
people they set forth on their journeys.
THE CHILD
Now, when these three worshipful kings were passed forth out of their
kingdoms, the Star went before each king and his people. When they
stood still and rested, the Star stood still; and when they went forward
again, the Star always went before them in virtue and strength and gave
light all the way.
And, as it is written, in the time that Christ was born, there was peace
in all the world, wherefore in all the cities and towns through which
they went there was no gate shut neither by night nor by day; and all
the people of those same cities and towns marveled wonderfully as they
saw kings and vast multitudes go by in great haste; but they knew not
what they were, nor whence they came, nor whither they should go.
Furthermore these three kings rode forth over hills, waters, valleys,
plains, and other divers and perilous places without hindrance, for all
the way seemed to them plain and even. And they never took shelter by
night nor by day, nor ever rested, nor did their horses and other beasts
ever eat or drink till they had come to Bethlehem. And all this time it
did seem to them as one day.
But when the three blessed kings had come near to Jerusalem, then a
great cloud of darkness hid the Star from their sight. And when Melchior
and his people were come fast by the city, they abode in fog and
darkness. Then came Balthazar, and he abode under the same cloud near
unto Melchior. Thereupon appeared Jasper with all his host.
So these three glorious kings, each with his host and burdens and
beasts, met together in the highway without the city of Jerusalem. And,
notwithstanding that none of them ever before had seen the other, nor
knew him, nor had heard of his coming, yet at their meeting each one
with great reverence and joy kissed the other. So afterward, when they
had spoken together and each had told his purpose and the cause of his
journey, they were much more glad and fervent. So they rode forth, and
at the uprising of the sun, they came into Jerusalem. And yet the Star
appeared not.
So then these three worshipful kings, when they were come into the city,
asked of the people concerning the Child that was born; and when Herod
heard this he was troubled and all Jerusalem with him, and he privately
summoned to him these three kings and learned of them the time when
the Star appeared. He then sent them forth, bidding them find the young
Child and return to him.
Now when these three kings were passed out of Jerusalem the Star
appeared to them again as it did erst, and went before them till they
were come to Bethlehem.
Now, the nearer the kings came to the place where Christ was born, the
brighter shined the Star, and they entered Bethlehem the sixth hour
of the day. And they rode through the streets till they came before a
little house. There the Star stood still, and then descended and shone
with so great a light that the little house was full of radiance; till
anon the Star went upward again into the air, and stood still always
above the same place.
And the three kings went into the little house and found the Child with
his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him, and offered him gifts.
And you shall understand that these three kings had brought great gifts
from their own lands, rich ornaments and divers golden vessels, and many
jewels and precious stones, and both gold and silver,--these they had
brought to offer to the King of the Jews. But when they found the Lord
in a little-house, in poor clothes, and when they saw that the Star gave
so great and holy a light in all the place that it seemed as though they
stood in a furnace of fire, then were they so sore afraid, that of all
the rich jewels and ornaments they had brought with them, they chose
from their treasures what came first to their hands. For Melchior took
a round apple of gold in his hand, and thirty gilt pennies, and these he
offered unto our Lord; and Balthazar took out of his treasury incense;
and Jasper took out myrrh, and that he offered with weeping and tears.
And now after these three kings had worshiped the Lord, they abode in
Bethlehem for a little space, and as they abode, there came a command
to them, in their sleep, that they should not return to Herod; and so by
another way they went home to their kingdoms. But the Star that had gone
before appeared no more.
So these three kings, who had suddenly met together in the highway
before Jerusalem, went home together with great joy and honor. And when,
after many days' journey over perilous places, they had come to the Hill
of Vaws, they made there a fair chapel in worship of the Child they had
sought. Also they agreed to meet together at the same place once in the
year, and they ordained that the Hill of Vaws should be the place of
their burial.
So when the three worshipful kings had done what they would, they took
leave of each other, and each one with his people rode to his own land
rejoicing.
HOW THEY CAME TO COLOGNE
Now, after many years, a little before the feast of Christmas, there
appeared a wonderful Star above the cities where these three kings
dwelt, and they knew thereby that their time was come when they should
pass from earth. Then with one consent they built, at the Hill of
Vaws, a fair and large tomb, and there the three Holy Kings, Melchior,
Balthazar, and Jasper died, and were buried in the same tomb by their
sorrowing people.
Now after much time had passed away, Queen Helen, the mother of the
Emperor Constantine, began to think greatly of the bodies of these three
kings, and she arrayed herself, and, accompanied by many attendants,
went into the Land of Ind.
And you shall understand that after she had found the bodies of
Melchior, Balthazar, and Jasper, Queen Helen put them into one chest
and ornamented it with great riches, and she brought them into
Constantinople, with joy and reverence, and laid them in a church that
is called Saint Sophia; and this church the Emperor Constantine did
make,--he alone, with a little child, set up all the marble pillars
thereof.
Now, after the death of the Emperor Constantine a persecution against
the Christian faith arose, and in this persecution the bodies of
the three worshipful kings were set at naught. Then came the Emperor
Mauricius of Rome, and, through his counsel, the bodies of these three
kings were carried to Italy, and there they were laid in a fair church
in the city of Milan.
Then afterward, in the process of time, the city of Milan rebelled
against the Emperor Frederick the First, and he, being sore beset, sent
to Rainald, Archbishop of Cologne, asking for help.
This Archbishop with his army did take the city of Milan, and delivered
it to the Emperor. And for this service did the Emperor grant, at the
Archbishop's great entreaty, that he should carry forth to Cologne the
bodies of the three blessed kings.
Then the Archbishop, with great solemnity and in procession, did carry
forth from the city of Milan the bodies of the three kings, and brought
them unto Cologne and there placed them in the fair church of Saint
Peter. And all the people of the country roundabout, with all the
reverence they might, received these relics, and there in the city of
Cologne they are kept and beholden of all manner of nations unto this
day.
Thus endeth the legend of these three blessed kings,--Melchior,
Balthazar, and Jasper.
ARBOR DAY
THE LITTLE TREE THAT LONGED FOR OTHER LEAVES
BY FRIEDRICH RUCHERT (TRANSLATED)
There was a little tree that stood in the woods through both good and
stormy weather, and it was covered from top to bottom with needles
instead of leaves. The needles were sharp and prickly, so the little
tree said to itself:--
“All my tree comrades have beautiful green leaves, and I have only sharp
needles. No one will touch me. If I could have a wish I would ask for
leaves of pure gold.”
When night came the little tree fell asleep, and, lo! in the morning it
woke early and found itself covered with glistening, golden leaves.
“Ah, ah!” said the little tree, “how grand I am! No other tree in the
woods is dressed in gold.”
But at evening time there came a peddler with a great sack and a long
beard. He saw the glitter of the golden leaves. He picked them all and
hurried away leaving the little tree cold and bare.
“Alas! alas!” cried the little tree in sorrow; “all my golden leaves
are gone! I am ashamed to stand among the other trees that have such
beautiful foliage. If I only had another wish I would ask for leaves of
glass.”
Then the little tree fell asleep, and when it woke early, it found
itself covered with bright and shining leaves of glass.
“Now,” said the little tree, “I am happy. No tree in the woods glistens
like me.”
But there came a fierce storm-wind driving through the woods. It struck
the glass, and in a moment all the shining leaves lay shattered on the
ground.
“My leaves, my glass leaves!” moaned the little tree; “they lie broken
in the dust, while all the other trees are still dressed in their
beautiful foliage. Oh! if I had another wish I would ask for green
leaves.”
Then the little tree slept again, and in the morning it was covered with
fresh, green foliage. And it laughed merrily, and said: “Now, I need not
be ashamed any more. I am like my comrades of the woods.”
But along came a mother-goat, looking for grass and herbs for herself
and her young ones. She saw the crisp, new leaves; and she nibbled, and
nibbled, and nibbled them all away, and she ate up both stems and tender
shoots, till the little tree stood bare.
“Alas!” cried the little tree in anguish, “I want no more leaves,
neither gold ones nor glass ones, nor green and red and yellow ones! If
I could only have my needles once more, I would never complain again.”
And sorrowfully the little tree fell asleep, but when it saw itself in
the morning sunshine, it laughed and laughed and laughed. And all the
other trees laughed, too, but the little tree did not care. Why did they
laugh? Because in the night all its needles had come again! You may see
this for yourself. Just go into the woods and look, but do not touch the
little tree. Why not? BECAUSE IT PRICKS.
WHY THE EVERGREEN TREES NEVER LOSE THEIR LEAVES
BY FLORENCE HOLBROOK
Winter was coming, and the birds had flown far to the south, where the
air was warm and they could find berries to eat. One little bird had
broken its wing and could not fly with the others. It was alone in the
cold world of frost and snow. The forest looked warm, and it made its
way to the trees as well as it could, to ask for help.
First it came to a birch tree. “Beautiful birch tree,” it said, “my
wing is broken, and my friends have flown away. May I live among your
branches till they come back to me?”
“No, indeed,” answered the birch tree, drawing her fair green leaves
away. “We of the great forest have our own birds to help. I can do
nothing for you.”
“The birch is not very strong,” said the little bird to itself, “and it
might be that she could not hold me easily. I will ask the oak.” So the
bird said: “Great oak tree, you are so strong, will you not let me live
on your boughs till my friends come back in the springtime?”
“In the springtime!” cried the oak. “That is a long way off. How do I
know what you might do in all that time? Birds are always looking for
something to eat, and you might even eat up some of my acorns.”
“It may be that the willow will be kind to me,” thought the bird, and
it said: “Gentle willow, my wing is broken, and I could not fly to
the south with the other birds. May I live on your branches till the
springtime?”
The willow did not look gentle then, for she drew herself up proudly and
said: “Indeed, I do not know you, and we willows never talk to people
whom we do not know. Very likely there are trees somewhere that will
take in strange birds. Leave me at once.”
The poor little bird did not know what to do. Its wing was not yet
strong, but it began to fly away as well as it could. Before it had gone
far a voice was heard. “Little bird,” it said, “where are you going?”
“Indeed, I do not know,” answered the bird sadly. “I am very cold.”
“Come right here, then,” said the friendly spruce tree, for it was her
voice that had called.
“You shall live on my warmest branch all winter if you choose.”
“Will you really let me?” asked the little bird eagerly.
“Indeed, I will,” answered the kind-hearted spruce tree. “If your
friends have flown away, it is time for the trees to help you. Here is
the branch where my leaves are thickest and softest.”
“My branches are not very thick,” said the friendly pine tree, “but I am
big and strong, and I can keep the North Wind from you and the spruce.”
“I can help, too,” said a little juniper tree. “I can give you berries
all winter long, and every bird knows that juniper berries are good.”
So the spruce gave the lonely little bird a home; the pine kept the cold
North Wind away from it; and the juniper gave it berries to eat. The
other trees looked on and talked together wisely.
“I would not have strange birds on my boughs,” said the birch.
“I shall not give my acorns away for any one,” said the oak.
“I never have anything to do with strangers,” said the willow, and the
three trees drew their leaves closely about them.
In the morning all those shining, green leaves lay on the ground, for
a cold North Wind had come in the night, and every leaf that it touched
fell from the tree.
“May I touch every leaf in the forest?” asked the wind in its frolic.
“No,” said the Frost King. “The trees that have been kind to the little
bird with the broken wing may keep their leaves.”
This is why the leaves of the spruce, the pine, and the juniper are
always green.
WHY THE ASPEN QUIVERS
OLD LEGEND
Long, long ago, so the legend says, when Joseph and Mary and the Holy
Babe fled out of Bethlehem into Egypt, they passed through the
green wildwood. And flowers and trees and plants bent their heads in
reverence.
But the proud aspen held its head high and refused even to look at the
Holy Babe. In vain the birds sang in the aspen's branches, entreating it
to gaze for one moment at the wonderful One; the proud tree still held
its head erect in scorn.
Then outspake Mary, his mother. “O aspen tree,” she said, “why do you
not gaze on the Holy Child? Why do you not bow your head? A star arose
at his birth, angels sang his first lullaby, kings and shepherds came to
the brightness of his rising; why, then, O aspen, do you refuse to honor
your Lord and mine?”
But the aspen could not answer. A strange shivering passed through its
stem and along its boughs, which set its leaves a-quivering. It trembled
before the Holy Babe.
And so from age to age, even unto this day, the proud aspen shakes and
shivers.
THE WONDER TREE
BY FRIEDRICH ADOLPH KRUMMACHER (ADAPTED)
One day in the springtime, Prince Solomon was sitting under the palm
trees in the royal gardens, when he saw the Prophet Nathan walking near.
“Nathan,” said the Prince, “I would see a wonder.”
The Prophet smiled. “I had the same desire in the days of my youth,” he
replied.
“And was it fulfilled?” asked Solomon.
“A Man of God came to me,” said Nathan, “having a pomegranate seed in
his hand. 'Behold,' he said, 'what will become of this.' Then he made a
hole in the ground, and planted the seed, and covered it over. When he
withdrew his hand the clods of earth opened, and I saw two small leaves
coming forth. But scarcely had I beheld them, when they joined together
and became a small stem wrapped in bark; and the stem grew before my
eyes,--and it grew thicker and higher and became covered with branches.
“I marveled, but the Man of God motioned me to be silent. 'Behold,' said
he, 'new creations begin.'
“Then he took water in the palm of his hand, and sprinkled the branches
three times, and, lo! the branches were covered with green leaves, so
that a cool shade spread above us, and the air was fined with perfume.
“'From whence come this perfume and this shade?' cried I.
“'Dost thou not see,' he answered, 'these crimson flowers bursting from
among the leaves, and hanging in clusters?'
“I was about to speak, but a gentle breeze moved the leaves, scattering
the petals of the flowers around us. Scarcely had the falling flowers
reached the ground when I saw ruddy pomegranates hanging beneath the
leaves of the tree, like almonds on Aaron's rod. Then the Man of God
left me, and I was lost in amazement.”
“Where is he, this Man of God?” asked Prince Solomon eagerly. “What is
his name? Is he still alive?”
“Son of David,” answered Nathan, “I have spoken to thee of a vision.”
When the Prince heard this he was grieved to the heart. “How couldst
thou deceive me thus?” he asked.
But the Prophet replied: “Behold in thy father's gardens thou mayest
daily see the unfolding of wonder trees. Doth not this same miracle
happen to the fig, the date, and the pomegranate? They spring from the
earth, they put out branches and leaves, they flower, they fruit,--not
in a moment, perhaps, but in months and years,--but canst thou tell the
difference betwixt a minute, a month, or a year in the eyes of Him with
whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day?”
THE PROUD OAK TREE
OLD FABLE [11]
[Footnote 11: From Deutsches Drittes Lesebuch, by W. H. Weick and C.
Grebner. Copyright, 1886, by Van Antwerp, Bragg & Co. American Book
Company, publishers.]
(TRANSLATED)
The oak said to the reed that grew by the river: “It is no wonder that
you make such a sorrowful moaning, for you are so weak that the little
wren is a burden for you, and the lightest breeze must seem like a
storm-wind. Now look at me! No storm has ever been able to bow my
head. You will be much safer if you grow close to my side so that I may
shelter you from the wind that is now playing with my leaves.”
“Do not worry about me,” said the reed; “I have less reason to fear the
wind than you have. I bow myself, but I never break. He who laughs last,
laughs best!”
That night there came a fearful hurricane. The oak stood erect. The
reed bowed itself before the blast. The wind grew more furious, and,
uprooting the proud oak, flung it on the ground.
When the morning came there stood the slender reed, glittering with
dewdrops, and softly swaying in the breeze.
BAUCIS AND PHILEMON
ADAPTED FROM H. P. MASKEL'S RENDERING OF THE GREEK MYTH
On the slopes of the Phrygian hills, there once dwelt a pious old couple
named Baucis and Philemon. They had lived all their lives in a tiny
cottage of wattles, thatched with straw, cheerful and content in spite
of their poverty.
As this worthy couple sat dozing by the fireside one evening in the late
autumn, two strangers came and begged a shelter for the night. They had
to stoop to enter the humble doorway, where the old man welcomed them
heartily and bade them rest their weary limbs on the settle before the
fire.
Meanwhile Baucis stirred the embers, blowing them into a flame with dry
leaves, and heaped on the fagots to boil the stew-pot. Hanging from the
blackened beams was a rusty side of bacon. Philemon cut off a rasher
to roast, and, while his guests refreshed themselves with a wash at the
rustic trough, he gathered pot-herbs from his patch of garden. Then the
old woman, her hands trembling with age, laid the cloth and spread the
table.
It was a frugal meal, but one that hungry wayfarers could well relish.
The first course was an omelette of curdled milk and eggs, garnished
with radishes and served on rude oaken platters. The cups of turned
beechwood were filled with homemade wine from an earthen jug. The second
course consisted of dried figs and dates, plums, sweet-smelling apples,
and grapes, with a piece of clear, white honeycomb. What made the
meal more grateful to the guests was the hearty spirit in which it was
offered. Their hosts gave all they had without stint or grudging.
But all at once something happened which startled and amazed Baucis and
Philemon. They poured out wine for their guests, and, lo! each time the
pitcher filled itself again to the brim.
The old couple then knew that their guests were not mere mortals;
indeed, they were no other than Jupiter and Mercury come down to
earth in the disguise of poor travelers. Being ashamed of their humble
entertainment, Philemon hurried out and gave chase to his only goose,
intending to kill and roast it. But his guests forbade him, saying:--
“In mortal shape we have come down, and at a hundred houses asked
for lodging and rest. For answer a hundred doors were shut and locked
against us. You alone, the poorest of all, have received us gladly and
given us of your best. Now it is for us to punish these impious people
who treat strangers so churlishly, but you two shall be spared. Only
leave your cottage and follow us to yonder mountain-top.”
So saying, Jupiter and Mercury led the way, and the two old folks
hobbled after them. Presently they reached the top of the mountain, and
Baucis and Philemon saw all the country round, with villages and people,
sinking into a marsh; while their own cottage alone was left standing.
And while they gazed, their cottage was changed into a white temple. The
doorway became a porch with marble columns. The thatch grew into a roof
of golden tiles. The little garden about their home became a park.
Then Jupiter, regarding Baucis and Philemon with kindly eyes, said:
“Tell me, O good old man and you good wife, what may we do in return for
your hospitality?”
Philemon whispered for a moment with Baucis, and she nodded her
approval. “We desire,” he replied, “to be your servants, and to have the
care of this temple. One other favor we would ask. From boyhood I have
loved only Baucis, and she has lived only for me. Let the selfsame hour
take us both away together. Let me never see the tomb of my wife, nor
let her suffer the misery of mourning my death.”
Jupiter and Mercury, pleased with these requests, willingly granted
both, and endowed Baucis and Philemon with youth and strength as well.
The gods then vanished from their sight, but as long as their lives
lasted Baucis and Philemon were the guardians of the white temple that
once had been their home.
And when again old age overtook them, they were standing one day
in front of the sacred porch, and Baucis, turning her gaze upon her
husband, saw him slowly changing into a gnarled oak tree. And Philemon,
as he felt himself rooted to the ground, saw Baucis at the same time
turning into a leafy linden.
And as their faces disappeared behind the green foliage, each cried
unto the other, “Farewell, dearest love!” and again, “Dearest love,
farewell!” And their human forms were changed to trees and branches.
And still, if you visit the spot, you may see an oak and a linden tree
with branches intertwined.
THE UNFRUITFUL TREE
BY FRIEDRICH ADOLPH KRUMMACHER