bone of an undoubted goose. The old councillor, who had
received three medals for holding his tongue, declared that the
Skipjack possessed the gift of prophecy; one could tell by his bones
whether there would be a severe winter or a mild one; and that's
more than one can always tell from the breastbone of the man who
writes the almanac.

"I shall not say anything more," said the old King. "I only go
on quietly, and always think the best."

Now they were to take their jump. The Flea sprang so high that
no one could see him; and then they asserted that he had not jumped at
all. That was very mean. The Grasshopper only sprang half as high, but
he sprang straight into the King's face, and the King declared that
was horribly rude. The Skipjack stood a long time considering; at last
people thought that he could not jump at all.

"I only hope he's not become unwell," said the Yard Dog, and
then he smelt at him again.

"Tap!" he sprang with a little crooked jump just into the lap of
the Princess, who sat on a low golden stool.

Then the King said, "The highest leap was taken by him who
jumped up to my daughter; for therein lies the point; but it
requires head to achieve that, and the Skipjack has shown that he
has a head."

And so he had the Princess.

"I jumped highest, after all," said the Flea. "But it's all the
same. Let her have the goose-bone with its lump of wax and bit of
stick. I jumped to the highest; but in this world a body is required
if one wishes to be seen."

And the Flea went into foreign military service, where it is
said he was killed.

The Grasshopper seated himself out in the ditch, and thought and
considered how things happened in the world. And he too said, "Body is
required! body is required!" And then he sang his own melancholy song,
and from that we have gathered this story, which they say is not true,
though it's in print.

THE LAST DREAM OF THE OLD OAK

In the forest, high up on the steep shore, and not far from the
open seacoast, stood a very old oak-tree. It was just three hundred
and sixty-five years old, but that long time was to the tree as the
same number of days might be to us; we wake by day and sleep by night,
and then we have our dreams. It is different with the tree; it is
obliged to keep awake through three seasons of the year, and does
not get any sleep till winter comes. Winter is its time for rest;
its night after the long day of spring, summer, and autumn. On man