cheon--a slice or two of bread, a bit of
cold meat, and a cold potato; and because it seemed so poor a
luncheon, grandfather went back to the house and brought two big
apples from the cellar. The old man thanked him and ate the apples.
Then he got up, brushed the bread crumbs from his leather breeches,
and taking a little tin dipper from his pack, went down to the brook
for a drink of water. When he had had his fill, he came back to the
bench and sat down.

"Now, my boy," he said, "we will make a tree to grow here by the
brook. There ought to be one, for shade."

"Make a tree!" cried grandfather. "How can we make a tree? I thought
only God made trees."

"True," said the old man. "Only God makes trees, but sometimes we can
help Him."

With that, he took from the bench at his side a stick that he had cut
somewhere by the road, and had been using for a cane. It was slender
and straight, and grandfather noticed that the bark was smooth and of
a beautiful light green.

"Of this," said the old man, "we will make a tree in which the birds
of the air shall build their nests, and under which the beasts of the
field shall find shelter, and rest in the heat of the day. But first
there shall be music, to please the spirits of the springtime. Take
this stick down to the brook, and wet it all over."

So my grandfather took the stick and did as the old man told him. When
he came back to the bench, the tinker had a large horn-handled knife
open in his hand. With the blade, which seemed very sharp, he made a
single cut through the bark of the stick, about a foot from one end,
and by holding the knife still, and spinning the stick slowly toward
him in his fingers, he carried the cut all the way round. Then, near
the end, he cut a deep notch, and four or five smaller notches in a
line farther down; and after that he laid the stick across his knee,
and turning it all the while, began to pound it gently with the handle
of the knife.

When he had pounded a long time, he laid down the knife, and taking
the stick in both hands, gave it a little twist. At that, grandfather
heard something pop, and saw the bark slip from the end of the stick
above the knife-cut, all whole except for the notches, a smooth, green
tube.

Of the part of the stick from which he had slipped the bark, the old
man cut away more than half, and across the upper end he made a
smooth, slanting cut. Then he bade grandfather wet the stick again,
and when he had do