on the branches, and were put out one by one, and
then the children were given permission to plunder the tree. They rushed
at it so that all its boughs creaked; if it had not been fastened by the
gold star at the top to the ceiling, it would have been overthrown.

The children danced about with their splendid toys, and no one looked at
the tree, except the old nurse, who came and peeped amongst the boughs,
just to see if a fig or an apple had been forgotten.

'A story! a story!' cried the children, and dragged a little stout
man to the tree; he sat down beneath it, saying, 'Here we are in the
greenwood, and the tree will be delighted to listen! But I am only going
to tell one story. Shall it be Henny Penny or Humpty Dumpty who fell
downstairs, and yet gained great honour and married a princess?'

'Henny Penny!' cried some; 'Humpty Dumpty!' cried others; there was a
perfect babel of voices! Only the fir-tree kept silent, and thought, 'Am
I not to be in it? Am I to have nothing to do with it?'

But it had already been in it, and played out its part. And the man told
them about Humpty Dumpty who fell downstairs and married a princess. The
children clapped their hands and cried, 'Another! another!' They wanted
the story of Henny Penny also, but they only got Humpty Dumpty. The
fir-tree stood quite astonished and thoughtful; the birds in the wood
had never related anything like that. 'Humpty Dumpty fell downstairs and
yet married a princess! yes, that is the way of the world!' thought the
tree, and was sure it must be true, because such a nice man had told
the story. 'Well, who knows? Perhaps I shall fall downstairs and marry a
princess.' And it rejoiced to think that next day it would be decked out
again with candles, toys, glittering ornaments, and fruits. 'To-morrow
I shall quiver again with excitement. I shall enjoy to the full all my
splendour. To-morrow I shall hear Humpty Dumpty again, and perhaps Henny
Penny too.' And the tree stood silent and lost in thought all through
the night.

Next morning the servants came in. 'Now the dressing up will begin
again,' thought the tree. But they dragged it out of the room, and up
the stairs to the lumber-room, and put it in a dark corner, where no ray
of light could penetrate. 'What does this mean?' thought the tree. 'What
am I to do here? What is there for me to hear?' And it leant against the
wall, and thought and thought. And there was time enough for that, for
days and n