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And in the winter time when the limbs of the tree were bare, the old, rough Stone said, "Just see how he lets the snow and the cold rain fall right on me!" |
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One night during a heavy storm the old, rough Stone heard a crash, and in the morning he saw the gnarled tree lying upon the ground. "Now I shall be all by myself again!" he said. Then he counted the rings in the trunk of the gnarled tree until he came to three hundred, which was as far as he could count. "More than three hundred years have passed since that silly little squirrel dropped the nut from which this tree grew!" said the old, rough Stone to himself.
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 |
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