are they?"

And so he rattled on.

The Lime-tree, who was a jolly, fat fellow, came up calmly, smoking
his pipe; the conceited and dandified Chestnut-tree screwed his glass
into his eye to stare at the Children. He wore a coat of green silk
embroidered with pink and white flowers. He thought the little ones
too poor-looking and turned away in derision.

"He thinks he's everybody, since he has taken to living in town! He
despises us!" sneered the Poplar, who was jealous of him.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" wept the Willow, a wretched little stunted
fellow, who came clattering along in a pair of wooden shoes too big
for him. "They have come to cut off my head and arms for firewood!"

Tyltyl could not believe his eyes. He never stopped asking the Cat
questions:

"Who's this?... Who's that?..."

And Tylette introduced the soul of each Tree to him.

There was the Elm, who was a sort of short-winded, paunchy, crabby
gnome; the Beech, an elegant, sprightly person; the Birch, who looked
like the ghosts in the Palace of Night, with his white flowing
garments and his restless gestures. The tallest figure was the
Fir-tree: Tyltyl found it very difficult to see his face perched right
at the top of his long, thin body; but he looked gentle and sad,
whereas the Cypress, who stood near him, dressed all in black,
frightened Tyltyl terribly.

However, so far nothing very dreadful had happened. The Trees,
delighted at being able to talk, were all chattering together; and our
young friend was simply going to ask them where the Blue Bird was
hidden, when, all of a sudden, silence reigned. The Trees bowed
respectfully and stood aside to make way for an immensely old Tree,
dressed in a long gown embroidered with moss and lichen. He leaned
with one hand on a stick and with the other on a young Oak Sapling who
acted as his guide, for the Old Oak was blind. His long white beard
streamed in the wind.

"It's the King!" said Tyltyl to himself, when he saw his mistletoe
crown. "I will ask him the secret of the forest."

And he was just going up to him, when he stopped, seized with surprise
and joy: there sat the Blue Bird before him, perched on the old Oak's
shoulder.

"He has the Blue Bird!" cried the boy, gleefully. "Quick! Quick! Give
him to me!"

"Silence! Hold your tongue!" said the greatly shocked Trees.

"Take off your hat, Tyltyl," said the Cat. "It's the Oak!"

The poor Child at once obeyed with a smile; he did not understan