, but will do good only to some; but they must go to it and ask for
its protection, and they must offer it something as well as pray to it.
It must be something bright--a little jewel or coloured bead is best,
and if you haven't got such a thing, a bright-coloured ribbon, or strip
of scarlet cloth or silk thread--which you must tie to one of the twigs.

"But we hurted the tree, Marty, and 'twill do no good to we."

They were both grave now; then a hopeful thought came to her aid. They
had not hurt the tree intentionally; the tree knew that--it knew more
than any human being. They might go and stand side by side under its
branches and ask it to forgive them, and grant them all their desires.
But they must not go empty-handed, they must have some bright thing with
them when making their prayer. Then she had a fresh inspiration. She
would take a lock of her own bright hair, and braid it with some of his,
and tie it with a piece of scarlet thread.

Johnnie was pleased with this idea, and they agreed to take another
Sunday afternoon walk and carry out their plan.

The projected walk was never taken, for by and by Marty's mother fell
ill, and Marty had to be with her, nursing her night and day. And months
went by, and at length, when her mother died, she was not in a fit
condition to go long walks and climb those long, steep slopes. After the
child was born, it was harder than ever to leave the house, and Johnnie,
too, had so much work at the farm that he had little inclination to go
out on Sundays. They ceased to speak of the tree, and their
long-projected pilgrimage was impracticable until they could see better
days. But the wished time never came, for, after the first child, Marty
was never strong. Then a second child came, then a third; and so five
years went by, of toil and suffering and love, and the tree, with all
their hopes and fears and intentions regarding it, was less and less in
their minds, and was all but forgotten. Only Johnnie, when at long
intervals his master sent him to Salisbury with the cart, remembered it
all only too well when, coming to the top of the down, he saw the old
thorn directly before him. Passing it, he would turn his face away not
to see it too closely, or, perhaps, to avoid being recognised by it.
Then came the time of their extreme poverty, when there was no work at
the farm and no one of their own people to help tide them over a season
of scarcity, for the old people were dead or in th