“Summer is gone!” said the Trees. “The fall of the year is come, and it
is time for us to dress up and be gay.”
“I shall wear red!” said a Maple. “Sunset red is my color.”
“Yellow for me!” said another. “My dress shall be like pure gold.”
“I choose purple!” said the Ash. “It is the color of Kings, and suits
me very well.”
“What will you wear?” they all said to the little Fir.
“I have no other dress!” said the Fir sadly. “I must wear my plain
green frock.”
“Te hee!” laughed the Maples and Birches and Ash trees, rustling their
leaves and nodding their heads. “She has but one dress! What a poor
thing she is!”
But the old Pine waved his dark branches and said: “Hush! hush! I know
what I know!”
“We know, too,” cried the Maples. “We know that in snow-time Santa
Claus comes, and chooses the finest tree, and dresses it in gold and
silver and hangs stars all over it. That is why we wish to be fine and
gay.”
“Hush! hush!” said the old Pine. “I know what I know.”
So the trees put on their gay robes, gold and red and purple, and each
one was finer than the rest; only the little Fir and the great old Pine
stayed just as they were, in their plain green dresses.
Now it grew cold, and a bleak wind blew through the forest. The trees
shivered and drew their bright robes close around them. Colder still it
grew, and snow fell, and the wind moaned; one day Jack Frost came in
his silver coat and touched the bright leaves with his shining brush,
and they curled up and turned brown, and, one by one, fell rustling
to the ground. Soon the poor Maples and Birches and the purple Ash who
thought he looked like a King stood all bare, and the wind blew through
their branches, and they shook with the cold. They looked at the Fir
and wished that they had her warm, green dress. Now came Santa Claus,
driving his reindeer team through the forest, cracking his whip and
jingling his bells. He looked at the trees with his bright eyes.
[Illustration]
“Ho! ho!” he said as he saw the Maples and Birches. “What a beggarly
set! Why, they have not a cloak among them to keep them warm. These
will never do for me.”
But now he saw the little Fir, and a smile came over his face.
“This is the tree for me!” he cried. “Will you come with me, little
Fir, and be the children’s tree, and make many hearts glad?”
“That I will!” said the little Fir gladly.
So Santa Claus took her away and dressed her in gold and silver and
hung bright stars all over her; and she became the Christmas Tree, and
many hearts were glad because of her.
“Hush! hush!” said the old Pine. “I knew what I knew.”