ant elm he was; a giant elm he remained. Unable to find him after a
long search, his friends gave him up for lost, and a new Prince ruled
over the land. Though the elm tried many times to tell passers-by of his
plight, none ever seemed to understand his words. Again and again, when
simple wood-cutters ventured into the great dark wood, he would tell
them his story and cry out, "I am the Prince! I am the Prince!" But the
wood-cutters heard only the wind stirring in the branches. Ah, how cold
it was in winter when the skies were steely black and the giant stars
sparkled icily! And how pleasant it was when spring returned, and the
gossipy birds came back again!

The first year a pair of wood-pigeons took to housekeeping in his
topmost branches. The Prince was glad to welcome them, for though denied
human speech, he understood the language of trees and birds. On
Midsummer Eve, the pigeons said to him, "To-night the King of the Trees
comes through the wood. Do you not hear the stir in the forest? All the
real trees are preparing for the King's coming; they are shedding dead
leaves and shaking out their branches."

"Tell me of the King," said the Prince.

"He is tall and dark and strong," said the doves. "He dwells in a great
pine in the North. On Midsummer Eve, he goes through the world to see if
all is well with the tree people."

"Do you think he can help me?" asked the Prince.

"You might ask him," replied the doves.

The long, long twilight of Midsummer Eve came to a close; night folded
the world beneath its starry curtains. At twelve o'clock, though not a
breath of air was stirring, the trees were shaken as if by a mighty
wind, the rustling of the leaves blending into strange and lovely music,
and presently the King of the Trees entered the haunted wood. Even as
the wood-doves had said, he was tall and dark and stately.

"Is all well with you, O my people?" said the King, in a voice as sweet
and solemn as the wind in the branches on a summer's day.

"Yes, all is well," answered the trees softly. Though some replied, "I
have lost a branch"; and a little tree called out unhappily, "My
neighbors are shutting out all my sunlight."

"Then fare ye well, my people, till next Midsummer Eve," said the
stately King. And he was about to stride onward through the dark wood
when the enchanted Prince called aloud to him!

"Stay, O King of the Trees," cried the poor Prince. "Hear me even though
I am not of your people. I am