but nobody
in the world can pluck it but you. It will always be meat and drink to
you when you are hungry, and warm clothes to your back when you are
cold. Moreover, as soon as you pluck it from the tree, another as good
will grow in its place. _Now_, will you give me my hat?"

Oh yes; Christine would give the little man his cap for such a seed as
that, and gladly enough. So the little man gave Christine the seed, and
Christine gave the little man his cap again. He put the cap on his head,
and--puff!--away he was gone, as suddenly as the light of a candle when
you blow it out.

So Christine took the seed home with her, and planted it before the
window of her room. The next morning when she looked out of the window
she beheld a beautiful tree, and on the tree hung an apple that shone
in the sun as though it were pure gold. Then she went to the tree and
plucked the apple as easily as though it were a gooseberry, and as soon
as she had plucked it another as good grew in its place. Being hungry
she ate it, and thought that she had never eaten anything as good, for
it tasted like pancake with honey and milk.

[Illustration: Christine and the Apple]

By-and-by the oldest sister came out of the house and looked around, but
when she saw the beautiful tree with the golden apple hanging from it
you can guess how she stared.

Presently she began to long and long for the apple as she had never
longed for anything in her life. "I will just pluck it," said she, "and
no one will be the wiser for it." But that was easier said than done.
She reached and reached, but she might as well have reached for the
moon; she climbed and climbed, but she might as well have climbed for
the sun--for either one would have been as easy to get as that which she
wanted. At last she had to give up trying for it, and her temper was
none the sweeter for that, you may be sure.

[Illustration: Christine's Mother and Sisters wish for the Apple.]

After a while came the second sister, and when she saw the golden apple
she wanted it just as much as the first had done. But to want and to get
are very different things, as she soon found, for she was no more able
to get it than the other had been.

Last of all came the mother, and she also strove to pluck the apple. But
it was no use. She had no more luck of her trying than her daughters;
all that the three could do was to stand under the tree and look at the
apple, and wish for it and wish for it.

The