THE BUCKWHEAT故事

　　 VERY often, after a violent thunder-storm, a field of

　　 buckwheat appears blackened and singed, as if a flame of fire

　　 had passed over it. The country people say that this

　　 appearance is caused by lightning; but I will tell you what

　　 the sparrow says, and the sparrow heard it from an old

　　 willow-tree which grew near a field of buckwheat, and is there

　　 still. It is a large venerable tree, though a little crippled

　　 by age. The trunk has been split, and out of the crevice grass

　　 and brambles grow. The tree bends for-ward slightly, and the

　　 branches hang quite down to the ground just like green hair.

　　 Corn grows in the surrounding fields, not only rye and barley,

　　 but oats,-pretty oats that, when ripe, look like a number of

　　 little golden canary-birds sitting on a bough. The corn has a

　　 smiling look and the heaviest and richest ears bend their

　　 heads low as if in pious humility. Once there was also a field

　　 of buckwheat, and this field was exactly opposite to old

　　 willow-tree. The buckwheat did not bend like the other grain,

　　 but erected its head proudly and stiffly on the stem. "I am as

　　 valuable as any other corn," said he, "and I am much

　　 handsomer; my flowers are as beautiful as the bloom of the

　　 apple blossom, and it is a pleasure to look at us. Do you know

　　 of anything prettier than we are, you old willow-tree?"

　　 And the willow-tree nodded his head, as if he would say,

　　 "Indeed I do."

　　 But the buckwheat spread itself out with pride, and said,

　　 "Stupid tree; he is so old that grass grows out of his body."

　　 There arose a very terrible storm. All the field-flowers

　　 folded their leaves together, or bowed their little heads,

　　 while the storm passed over them, but the buckwheat stood

　　 erect in its pride. "Bend your head as we do," said the

　　 flowers.

　　 "I have no occasion to do so," replied the buckwheat.

　　 "Bend your head as we do," cried the ears of corn; "the

　　 angel of the storm is coming; his wings spread from the sky

　　 above to the earth beneath. He will strike you down before you

　　 can cry for mercy."

　　 "But I will not bend my head," said the buckwheat.

　　 "Close your flowers and bend your leaves," said the old

　　 willow-tree. "Do not look at the lightning when the cloud

　　 bursts; even men cannot do that. In a flash of lightning

　　 heaven opens, and we can look in; but the sight will strike

　　 even human beings blind. What then must happen to us, who only

　　 grow out of the earth, and are so inferior to them, if we

　　 venture to do so?"

　　 "Inferior, indeed!" said the buckwheat. "Now I intend to

　　 have a peep into heaven." Proudly and boldly he looked up,

　　 while the lightning flashed across the sky as if the whole

　　 world were in flames.

　　 When the dreadful storm had passed, the flowers and the

　　 corn raised their drooping heads in the pure still air,

　　 refreshed by the rain, but the buckwheat lay like a weed in

　　 the field, burnt to blackness by the lightning. The branches

　　 of the old willow-tree rustled in the wind, and large

　　 water-drops fell from his green leaves as if the old willow

　　 were weeping. Then the sparrows asked why he was weeping, when

　　 all around him seemed so cheerful. "See," they said, how the

　　 sun shines, and the clouds float in the blue sky. Do you not

　　 smell the sweet perfume from flower and bush? Wherefore do you

　　 weep, old willow-tree?" Then the willow told them of the

　　 haughty pride of the buckwheat, and of the punishment which

　　 followed in consequence.

　　 This is the story told me by the sparrows one evening when

　　 I begged them to relate some tale to me.

　　 THE END