oice in thy growth!" said the Sunbeams. "Rejoice in thy vigorous
growth, and in the fresh life that moveth within thee!"

And the Wind kissed the Tree, and the Dew wept tears over him; but the
Fir understood it not.

When Christmas came, quite young trees were cut down: trees which often
were not even as large or of the same age as this Fir Tree, who could
never rest, but always wanted to be off. These young trees, and they
were always the finest looking, retained their branches; they were laid
on carts, and the horses drew them out of the wood.

"Where are they going to?" asked the Fir. "They are not taller than
I; there was one indeed that was considerably shorter; and why do they
retain all their branches? Whither are they taken?"

"We know! We know!" chirped the Sparrows. "We have peeped in at the
windows in the town below! We know whither they are taken! The greatest
splendor and the greatest magnificence one can imagine await them. We
peeped through the windows, and saw them planted in the middle of the
warm room and ornamented with the most splendid things, with gilded
apples, with gingerbread, with toys, and many hundred lights!"

"And then?" asked the Fir Tree, trembling in every bough. "And then?
What happens then?"

"We did not see anything more: it was incomparably beautiful."

"I would fain know if I am destined for so glorious a career," cried
the Tree, rejoicing. "That is still better than to cross the sea! What
a longing do I suffer! Were Christmas but come! I am now tall, and my
branches spread like the others that were carried off last year! Oh!
were I but already on the cart! Were I in the warm room with all the
splendor and magnificence! Yes; then something better, something still
grander, will surely follow, or wherefore should they thus ornament me?
Something better, something still grander must follow--but what? Oh, how
I long, how I suffer! I do not know myself what is the matter with me!"

"Rejoice in our presence!" said the Air and the Sunlight. "Rejoice in
thy own fresh youth!"

But the Tree did not rejoice at all; he grew and grew, and was green
both winter and summer. People that saw him said, "What a fine tree!"
and towards Christmas he was one of the first that was cut down. The axe
struck deep into the very pith; the Tree fell to the earth with a sigh;
he felt a pang--it was like a swoon; he could not think of happiness,
for he was sorrowful at being separated from his home, from