frost king. "The trees that have been kind to the little
bird with the broken wing may keep their leaves."

This is why the leaves of the spruce, the pine, and the juniper are
always green.

WHY THE ASPEN LEAVES TREMBLE.

"It is very strange," whispered one reed to another, "that the queen bee
never guides her swarm to the aspen-tree."

"Indeed, it _is_ strange," said the other. "The oak and the willow often
have swarms, but I never saw one on the aspen. What can be the reason?"

"The queen bee cannot bear the aspen," said the first. "Very likely she
has some good reason for despising it. I do not think that an insect as
wise as she would despise a tree without any reason. Many wicked things
happen that no one knows."

The reeds did not think that any one could hear what they said, but both
the willow and the aspen heard every word. The aspen was so angry that
it trembled from root to tip. "I'll soon see why that proud queen bee
despises me," it said. "She shall guide a swarm to my branches or"--

"Oh, I would not care for what those reeds say," the willow-tree broke
in. "They are the greatest chatterers in the world. They are always
whispering together, and they always have something unkind to say."

The aspen-tree was too angry to be still, and it called out to the
reeds, "You are only lazy whisperers. I do not care what you say. I
despise both you and your queen bee. The honey that those bees make is
not good to eat. I would not have it a anywhere near me."

"Hush, hush," whispered the willow timidly. "The reeds will repeat every
word that you say."

"I do not care if they do," said the aspen. "I despise both them and the
bees."

The reeds did whisper the angry words of the aspen to the queen bee, and
she said, "I was going to guide my swarm to the aspen, but now I will
drive the tree out of the forest. Come, my bees, come."

Then the bees flew by hundreds upon the aspen. They stung every leaf and
every twig through and through. The tree was driven from the forest,
over the prairie, over the river, over the fields; and still the angry
bees flew after it and stung it again and again. When they had come to
the rocky places, they left it and flew back to the land of flowers. The
aspen never came back. Its bright green leaves had grown white through
fear, and from that day to this they have trembled as they did when the
bees were stinging them and driving the tree from the forest.

HOW THE B