nder-land.
There the two would lie upon the belfry floor by the hour, talking
together of the strangest things.

"I saw the dear Angel Gabriel again yester morn," said Brother John.

"So!" says Otto, seriously; "and where was that?"

"It was out in the garden, in the old apple-tree," said Brother John. "I
was walking there, and my wits were running around in the grass like a
mouse. What heard I but a wonderful sound of singing, and it was like
the hum of a great bee, only sweeter than honey. So I looked up into the
tree, and there I saw two sparks. I thought at first that they were
two stars that had fallen out of heaven; but what think you they were,
little child?"

"I do not know," said Otto, breathlessly.

"They were angel's eyes," said Brother John; and he smiled in the
strangest way, as he gazed up into the blue sky. "So I looked at the two
sparks and felt happy, as one does in spring time when the cold weather
is gone, and the warm sun shines, and the cuckoo sings again. Then,
by-and-by, I saw the face to which the eyes belonged. First, it shone
white and thin like the moon in the daylight; but it grew brighter and
brighter, until it hurt one's eyes to look at it, as though it had been
the blessed sun itself. Angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver, and
in it he held a green bough with blossoms, like those that grow on the
thorn bush. As for his robe, it was all of one piece, and finer than the
Father Abbot's linen, and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow.
So I knew from all these things that it was the blessed Angel Gabriel."

"What do they say about this tree, Brother John?" said he to me.

"They say it is dying, my Lord Angel," said I, "and that the gardener
will bring a sharp axe and cut it down."

"'And what dost thou say about it, Brother John?' said he."

"'I also say yes, and that it is dying,' said I."

"At that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut my
eyes."

"'Now I begin to believe, Brother John, that thou art as foolish as men
say,' said he. 'Look, till I show thee.' And thereat I opened mine eyes
again."

"Then Angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig that
he held in his hand, and there was the dead wood all covered with green
leaves, and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold. Each
smelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers, and better to the taste
than white bread and honey.

"'They are souls of the apples,' sa