[Illustration]

Then men came with axes and cut up the tree and carried all of it away.

When the hot summer days came the sun beat down upon the old, rough Stone and he missed the shade of the gnarled tree.  “My!  It’s hot!” said the old, rough Stone, “I wish the gnarled tree with its pretty rustling leaves were here again to shade me and keep me cool!”

When winter came the old, rough Stone missed the leaves which fell around him and kept him warm.

“Oh dear!  How cold it is!” he cried, “I wish the gnarled tree would come back and scatter his leaves about me to protect me from the cold!”

So years and years and years passed, and the great old, rough Stone lay all alone.

“I wish another squirrel would come to eat nuts upon me!” he thought.  “Squirrels are such knowing little creatures, I am sure another might drop a nut which would grow into a lovely tree to keep me company.”

But, many more years passed, and never again did a tiny squirrel sit upon the old, rough Stone and eat nuts.  And never again did another tree grow above the old, rough Stone to keep him company.

“Ah me!” sighed the old, rough Stone, “We never know how well off we are until we lose something we really need!”

[Illustration]

SALLY MIGRUNDY

Sally Migrundy lived all alone in a tiny little cottage no larger than a piano box.  This was plenty large enough for Sally Migrundy though, for she was a tiny little lady herself.  Sally Migrundy’s tiny little cottage stood at the edge of a stream, a beautiful crystal clear stream of tinkling water which sang in a continual murmur all day and all night to Sally Migrundy.

The stream tinkled merrily through a great forest which lay for miles and miles, a green mantle over the hills and valleys, and Sally Migrundy’s tiny little cottage stood in the exact center of the great whispering forest.

All the wood creatures knew and loved Sally Migrundy and she knew and loved all of the wood creatures.

Each morning she would scatter food upon the surface of the singing stream and the lovely fish, their sides reflecting rainbow colors, would leap from the tinkling waters and splash about to show their pleasure.  And she would place food about her little garden for the birds and they in turn repaid her by their wonderful melodies.

Even the mama deer brought their little, wabbly-legged baby deer to introduce to Sally Migrundy; and she rubbed their sleek sides and talked to them so they couldn’t but love her.

Now Sally Migrundy had always lived in her tiny cottage on the bank of the tinkling stream which ran through the whispering forest.  She had lived there when the largest trees in the forest were tiny little sprouts.  She had lived there long before that, and even still longer than that, and that, and that.  Ever so much longer!