THECONCEITEDAPPLE
THE CONCEITED APPLE-BRANCH
IT was the month of May. The wind still blew cold; but
from bush and tree, field and flower, came the welcome sound,
"Spring is come." Wild-flowers in profusion covered the
hedges. Under the little apple-tree, Spring seemed busy, and
told his tale from one of the branches which hung fresh and
blooming, and covered with delicate pink blossoms that were
just ready to open. The branch well knew how beautiful it was;
this knowledge exists as much in the leaf as in the blood; I
was therefore not surprised when a nobleman's carriage, in
which sat the young countess, stopped in the road just by. She
said that an apple-branch was a most lovely object, and an
emblem of spring in its most charming aspect. Then the branch
was broken off for her, and she held it in her delicate hand,
and sheltered it with her silk parasol. Then they drove to the
castle, in which were lofty halls and splendid drawing-rooms.
Pure white curtains fluttered before the open windows, and
beautiful flowers stood in shining, transparent vases; and in
one of them, which looked as if it had been cut out of newly
fallen snow, the apple-branch was placed, among some fresh,
light twigs of beech. It was a charming sight. Then the branch
became proud, which was very much like human nature.
People of every description entered the room, and,
according to their position in society, so dared they to
express their admiration. Some few said nothing, others
expressed too much, and the apple-branch very soon got to
understand that there was as much difference in the characters
of human beings as in those of plants and flowers. Some are
all for pomp and parade, others have a great deal to do to
maintain their own importance, while the rest might be spared
without much loss to society. So thought the apple-branch, as
he stood before the open window, from which he could see out
over gardens and fields, where there were flowers and plants
enough for him to think and reflect upon; some rich and
beautiful, some poor and humble indeed.
"Poor, despised herbs," said the apple-branch; "there is
really a difference between them and such as I am. How unhappy
they must be, if they can feel as those in my position do!
There is a difference indeed, and so there ought to be, or we
should all be equals."
And the apple-branch looked with a sort of pity upon them,
especially on a certain little flower that is found in fields
and in ditches. No one bound these flowers together in a
nosegay; they were too common; they were even known to grow
between the paving-stones, shooting up everywhere, like bad
weeds; and they bore the very ugly name of "dog-flowers" or
"dandelions."
"Poor, despised plants," said the apple-bough, "it is not
your fault that you are so ugly, and that you have such an
ugly name; but it is with plants as with men,- there must be a
difference."
"A difference!" cried the sunbeam, as he kissed the
blooming apple-branch, and then kissed the yellow dandelion
out in the fields. All were brothers, and the sunbeam kissed
them- the poor flowers as well as the rich.
The apple-bough had never thought of the boundless love of
God, which extends over all the works of creation, over
everything which lives, and moves, and has its being in Him;
he had never thought of the good and beautiful which are so
often hidden, but can never remain forgotten by Him,- not only
among the lower creation, but also among men. The sunbeam, the
ray of light, knew better.
"You do not see very far, nor very clearly," he said to
the apple-branch. "Which is the despised plant you so
specially pity?"
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