“Of all the trees in the orchard,” began daddy, “every spring this old apple tree I am going to tell you about had the most beautiful of blossoms. And when midsummer came the apples that came out on that tree had, somehow, a better taste than the apples from any other tree. And one day I found out the reason.

“I thought the hammock, which hung under the apple tree, looked very comfortable, and so I made myself most cozy and happy. It was not long before I dozed off into a nice little nap, and then I heard what the apple tree was saying to the little unripe apples on the boughs.

“‘You must grow to be fine and ripe, and you must keep all the little apple-seeds good and warm so they can be just as brown as brown can be. That will mean that little boys and little girls can eat all they want, for so long as the seeds are brown they can never do any harm. And, you apples, you must be very sure that you turn around and have the sun warm you and make you bright and red.’

“As the old apple tree was talking, I noticed that the apples just grew a little bit bigger, and redder and fatter, and looked as they were—oh, so juicy and wonderful inside. I was certain, too, that the little seeds were growing browner every minute.

“‘You see,’ he continued, ‘it’s such an honor for us. You know that on the day we’re ripe the fairy queen brings all the little fairies to admire us, and they sit on the boughs and wave about with us. And more than that—you know the apple that is ripe first goes to the fairy queen and then some more go to the little fairies.’

“The fairies are too kind to take away the apples that real people like to eat—and so the old apple tree has arranged to have a great many more that we can’t see—they’re called the apples of fairyland.

“And the tree still went on talking:

“‘I, too, am working hard. I am practising my best bow to make to the fairy queen when she arrives the first day all the apples are ripe. So she is to come very, very early in the morning while every one else is sleeping. And when the children get up and find the apples are ripe so quickly, won’t they be delighted!

“‘Now, get around so Mr. Sun will help you along. He’s the greatest help in the world to us—such a dear old soul.’

“Of course that flattered Mr. Sun so he helped still more, and just as I could feel him shining down with all his might—I woke up.

“I moved away from the apple tree then, for it was no longer shady; the sun had come around and told me to get up! But as I walked away and saw the apple tree waving around I knew it was practising for its bow and making the little apples hurry up and ripen.”