grief,
And you did comfort them and cheer
Their bruised hearts, and steal a tear
That, healed, rose a leaf.

And what has built you up so strong,
Arbre Fee de Bourlemont?

The children's love! They've loved you long
Ten hundred years, in sooth,
They've nourished you with praise and song,
And warmed your heart and kept it young--
A thousand years of youth!

Bide always green in our young hearts,
Arbre Fee de Bourlemont!
And we shall always youthful be,
Not heeding Time his flight;
And when, in exile wand'ring, we
Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee,
Oh, rise upon our sight!

The fairies were still there when we were children, but we never saw
them; because, a hundred years before that, the priest of Domremy had
held a religious function under the tree and denounced them as being
blood-kin to the Fiend and barred them from redemption; and then
he warned them never to show themselves again, nor hang any more
immortelles, on pain of perpetual banishment from that parish.

All the children pleaded for the fairies, and said they were their good
friends and dear to them and never did them any harm, but the priest
would not listen, and said it was sin and shame to have such friends.
The children mourned and could not be comforted; and they made an
agreement among themselves that they would always continue to hang
flower-wreaths on the tree as a perpetual sign to the fairies that they
were still loved and remembered, though lost to sight.

But late one night a great misfortune befell. Edmond Aubrey's mother
passed by the Tree, and the fairies were stealing a dance, not thinking
anybody was by; and they were so busy, and so intoxicated with the wild
happiness of it, and with the bumpers of dew sharpened up with honey
which they had been drinking, that they noticed nothing; so Dame Aubrey
stood there astonished and admiring, and saw the little fantastic atoms
holding hands, as many as three hundred of them, tearing around in a
great ring half as big as an ordinary bedroom, and leaning away back
and spreading their mouths with laughter and song, which she could hear
quite distinctly, and kicking their legs up as much as three inches
from the ground in perfect abandon and hilarity--oh, the very maddest and
witchingest dance the woman ever saw.

But in about a minute or two minutes the poor little ruined creatures
discovered her