It was as if a bright light flashed upon the mountain when all the parish children covered it.  Here again was something sweet and delicate; something fresh and rosy; something young and growing.  Perhaps these children would bring to the poor abandoned forest a little new life.

When the children had rested and eaten their luncheon, they seized hoes and spades and began to work.  The foresters showed them what to do.  They set out shrub after shrub on every clear spot of earth they could find.

As they worked, they talked quite knowingly among themselves of how the little shrubs they were planting would bind the soil so that it could not get away, and of how new soil would form under the trees.  By and by seeds would drop, and in a few years they would be picking both strawberries and raspberries where now there were only bare rocks.  The little shrubs which they were planting would gradually become tall trees.  Perhaps big houses and great splendid ships would be built from them!

If the children had not come here and planted while there was still a little soil in the clefts, all the earth would have been carried away by wind and water, and the mountain could never more have been clothed in green.

“It was well that we came,” said the children.  “We were just in the nick of time!” They felt very important.

While they were working on the mountain, their parents were at home.  By and by they began to wonder how the children were getting along.  Of course it was only a joke about their planting a forest, but it might be amusing to see what they were trying to do.

So presently both fathers and mothers were on their way to the forest.  When they came to the outlying stock farms they met some of their neighbours.

“Are you going to the fire-swept mountain?” they asked.

“That’s where we’re bound for.”

“To have a look at the children?”

“Yes, to see what they’re up to.”

“It’s only play, of course.”

“It isn’t likely that there will be many forest trees planted by the youngsters.  We have brought the coffee pot along so that we can have something warm to drink, since we must stay there all day with only lunch-basket provisions.”

So the parents of the children went on up the mountain.  At first they thought only of how pretty it looked to see all the rosy-cheeked little children scattered over the gray hills.  Later, they observed how the children were working—­how some were setting out shrubs, while others were digging furrows and sowing seeds.  Others again were pulling up heather to prevent its choking the young trees.  They saw that the children took the work seriously and were so intent upon what they were doing that they scarcely had time to glance up.

The fathers and mothers stood for a moment and looked on; then they too began to pull up heather—­just for the fun of it.  The children were the instructors, for they were already trained, and had to show their elders what to do.