d arrived at the
foot of the tree. Imagine the feelings of the poor Prince when he saw
the sharp axes at hand to cut him down!

"I shall strike the first blow," said the chief wood-cutter, and he
lifted his axe in the air.

Suddenly from the tree-top a warning voice sang,--

"Throw the axe down, harm not me.
I am an enchanted tree.
He who strikes shall breathe his last,
Before Midsummer Eve hath passed."

"There is a spirit in the tree," cried the woodcutters, thoroughly
frightened. "Let us hurry away from here before it does us a mischief."
And in spite of all the chief wood-cutter's remonstrances, they ran
away as fast as their legs could carry them.

The chief wood-cutter, however, was bolder-hearted, and lifted the axe
again. As the blade shone uplifted in the sun, the maiden sang once
more,--

"Throw the axe down, harm not me.
I am an enchanted tree.
He who strikes shall breathe his last
Before Midsummer Eve hath passed."

Hearing the voice again, the chief began to feel just the littlest bit
alarmed; nevertheless, he stood his ground and lifted the axe a third
time. Once more the girl sang,--

"Throw the axe down, harm not me.
I am an enchanted tree.
He who strikes shall breathe his last
Before Midsummer Eve hath passed."

At the same moment, the elm managed to throw down a great branch which
struck the rogue a sound thump on the shoulders. Now thoroughly
terrified, the chief wood-cutter himself fled from the spot.

All day long, for fear lest he return, the maiden remained hidden in the
tree. At twilight, overcome by weariness, she fell into a deep sleep.
Just before midnight, alas, she was awakened from her slumber by hearing
an angry voice cry,--

"Come down from the tree, wicked, deceitful girl, or I shall cut it down
at once!"

Very much alarmed, the poor maiden looked down through the branches, and
discovered the wood-cutter standing at the foot of the elm. A lantern
swung from his left hand, and his sharpest axe rested on his right
shoulder. He had returned home, and not finding the maiden there, had
suspected that it was her voice which had frightened his men away.

"Come down," roared the rascal. "I'll teach you, you minx, to play
tricks with me. One--two--three." And lifting the axe in the air, he was
about to send it crashing into the trunk of the elm, when the mysterious
murmur which heralded the coming of the King of the Trees sounded
through the wood. Per