. "If only I don't
go to pieces for sheer fright. As it is, the boy took a good pull at me;
and Heaven knows I can't stand much more!"

"Now you must hold out until we see what happens," said the wild
rose-bush. "I have never known anything so exciting."

"Nor I," said the oak. "But it can't end well, when you're hollow to
start with."

Then the boy came back with the squire. The little chap pointed and told
his story. The keeper rolled a stone up, so that the squire could stand
on it and look at the willow-tree's top:

"Well, I never saw anything like it!" he said. "It's quite true: there's
a regular garden up there. And my own strawberries, I do believe!"

He picked one and ate it:

"Um!" he said. "Why, that's the genuine flavour! I almost think they're
even better than those in the garden."

"And is the tree to be cut down, father?"

"On no account!" said the squire. "It would be a thousand pities. Why,
he's the most remarkable tree on the whole estate! See and have a hoop
put round him at the top, keeper. And then put a railing round him, so
that the cows can't get at him and do him harm. We'll keep this fine old
willow-tree as long as we possibly can. I'm exceedingly fond of him."

For that happened to be his mood that day.

An iron hoop was put round the willow-tree's trunk at the top and a
railing at the bottom. Every time the squire came driving along the
avenue he stopped the carriage at the willow-tree:

"Yes, the avenue is very nice indeed," he said to his guests. "But
they're only quite ordinary poplars. Now here I can show you something
out of the common. Yes, I know it looks like an old willow-stump, but
just come over here...."

They stepped out of the carriage and on to the stone, one after the
other, and admired the garden in the willow-tree's top.

"If the hoop wasn't there, I should burst," said the willow-tree. "What
an honour and what luck for a wretched cripple like me! Only think: the
squire really climbed up and ate strawberries off me! And all the
visitors to the manor-house are brought to look at me."

"It's incredible," said the oak. "It's just as though there were a
premium on getting hollow."

"It's a romance," said the wild rose-bush. "I'll tell it to every bird
that settles on me, so that it may be sung all over the world."

"It's exactly as I told you," said the elder-bush.

"When all is said and done, it was I, in a measure, who prepared the
romance," said the blackb