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THE GIANTS HEART. |
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rough and difficult, the tree was so full of humps and hollows. Now and then they plashed into a pool of rain ; now and then they came upon twigs growing out of the trunk where they had no business, and they were as large as full-grown poplars. Sometimes they came upon great cushions of soft moss, and on one of them they lay down and rested. But they had not lain long before they spied a large nightingale sitting on a branch, with its bright eyes looking up at the moon. In a moment more he began to sing, and the birds about him began to reply, but in a very different tone from that in which they had replied to the owl. Oh, the birds did call the nightingale such pretty names ! The nightingale sang, and the birds replied like this:—
" I will sing a song.
I'm the nightingale." " Sing a song, long, long,
Little Neverfail!
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