Childs Story Garden | Page 4

the water and sailed away. Pine Tree was very happy now, for he was
seeing new and strange things. The waves dashed carelessly against the
ship. They seemed to have a song, too. Pine Tree had not forgotten the
songs that the old pines used to sing. The waves did not always sing the
same song--sometimes they would rush and roll against the ship very
hard until they grew tired, and then they would roll on, and sing a quiet
song again.
Sometimes the ship would stop at strange countries, people would get
off, other people would get on, and then the ship would sail off out into
the sea again. Now, the pine tree had been a part of the ship for many

years, when one night while the ship was sailing the seas the waves
grew so high and strong that the parts of the ship could not stay
together. So Pine Tree was thrown out upon the angry waves and was
rocked all night long--very roughly at first, but gently afterwards.
When the sunshine looked down upon the sand the next morning it saw
Pine Tree. Pine Tree lay there many days.
How lonesome Pine Tree was! He seemed to hear the songs of the old
pines, and sometimes the songs of the waves. One day he heard another
song. It was a new song to the pine tree, for the song was sung by some
little children who were digging in the sand close by. They came here
every day to play, and once a man came with them. When he saw Pine
Tree lying upon the sand he said: "This is just what I have been looking
for. I will use this for the ridge-pole for my little cottage." So he took
Pine Tree away with him. After a time Pine Tree found himself a part
of the man's cottage, and, of course, he could not hear the songs of the
forest, nor the songs of the waves, but he heard new songs. They were
rock-a-bye-baby songs that the mother in this little cottage would sing
to her children in the evening, when it was time for them to go to sleep.
Years passed, and the children grew to be men and women, and after a
while all the songs Pine Tree heard were those of the grandmother,
which were soft and low. At last these, too, were heard no more--the
little cottage grew quiet and everything was still. Pine Tree wondered
where everybody was. The only company he had were the birds that
came in through the window and built nests in the attic. Now the
cottage was no longer a home, but was used as a barn, and the gentle
cows, the woolly sheep and the kind horses rested there at night. They,
too, seemed to sing a song to Pine Tree, but by and by even their song
could not be heard--nothing but the wind and the owls in the trees
outside--because what had once been the cottage, and then a barn, was
now a forsaken little hut.
One day Pine Tree heard a man whistling. Oh! how he hoped he would
come in, for he had not seen anybody nor heard any of the songs he had
loved for so long. Pine Tree heard the whistle come nearer and nearer,
and at last the man stepped through the doorway. He looked about him
and saw the spider webs hanging in the corners and the birds flying in
and out of the windows, and he wondered how long it had been since
people had lived there. He looked up and saw the ridge-pole, which had

once been Pine Tree. "Oh!" he said, "I have found what I have long
been looking for." So he climbed up and loosened the boards and took
Pine Tree out of his resting place. Now Pine Tree was going once more
out into the world. The man carried him on and took him into a little
shop. It was a queer shop, too, for there were many bright, shining
things lying on the work-bench. They were tools, you know. The man
had a kind face and he handled Pine Tree very carefully. He sawed and
smoothed Pine Tree many days, and as he worked he whistled and sang,
for he was happy. Sometimes he would whistle some of the songs that
Pine Tree had heard when he lived in the forest, and then sometimes
those he had heard on the ocean, and again he would whistle the songs
that Pine Tree had heard in the home of the children.
At last the man's work was finished. Pine Tree had been made into a
wonderful musical instrument--a violin. The man took a bow and drew
it across the strings, and