DEAN S 
 
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 THE OAK TREE, 
 
 AND THE PLANTS. 
 
 
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 LONDON: DEAN & SON, 
 11, Ludgate Hill. 
 
 11 
 
THE OAK TREE, and THE PLANTS. 
 
 There once was a king who had a very 
 
 beautiful garden, and grounds arranged 
 with taste to please the eye, aud afford 
 refreshing shade, retired walks, com- 
 manding views, and, besides, all the 
 
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 THE OAK TRES2. 3 
 
 delightful points that could be produced. 
 There was one superb old oak, so high 
 and grand, that it could be seen for miles 
 around. There were roses and lilacs, and 
 flowering shrubs of every kind ; in short 
 nothing was wanting to make it a perfect 
 spot. 
 
 One day, the king's head gardener 
 Came in, and exclaimed, " 0, king, pray 
 come out and see what is the matter with 
 your garden ; everything is withering, and 
 drooping, and dying." While he spoke, 
 the other gardeners came rushing up, and 
 all had the same sad thing to tell. So 
 the king went out, and there, to be sure, 
 he found it all as they had said. 
 
 He went first to his grand old oak-tree, 
 his pride and admiration, and said, 
 " Why, oak, what is the matter with 
 you, that you are withering and dying?" 
 
 " Oh !" said the oak, " I don't think I 
 am of any use, I am so large and cum- 
 bersome ; I have no flowers or fruit, and 
 I take up so much room; besides, my 
 branches spread so wide and thick that 
 it is all dark and shady under them, and 
 
THE OAK TREE. 
 
 no flowers or fruit can grow there. Now, 
 if I were a rose bush, it would be w T orth 
 while, for I should have sweet flowers; 
 
 or if I were a peach or pear-tree, or even 
 like the grapevine, I could give you 
 fruit." 
 
 Then the king went on to his favourite 
 rose bush and said, " Well, rose bush, 
 
THE OAK TREE. 6 
 
 what is the matter with you ? why are 
 you drooping ?" 
 
 " Why," said the rose-bush, " I am 
 of no use ; I have no fruit, I have nothing 
 but some flowers. If [ were an oak, like 
 that grand one in the middle of the 
 garden, I should be of some use ; for then 
 I should be seen for miles around, and 
 should do honour to your garden ; but. as it 
 is, I might just as well die." 
 
 The king next came to a grapevine, no 
 longer clinging to the trellis and the trees, 
 but trailing sadly on the ground. He 
 stopped and said, " Grapevine, what's the 
 matter with you ? why are you laying so 
 dolefully on the ground ?" 
 
 " Ah," said the vine, " you see what 
 a poor weak creature I am ; I can't even 
 hold up my own weight, but must cling 
 to a tree or post, and what good can I 
 do? I neither give shade, like the oak, 
 nor bear flowers, like the shrubs. I can't 
 even so much as make a border for a 
 walk, like the box. I must always 
 depend on something else, and surely I 
 am of no use." 
 
6 THE OAK TREE. 
 
 So on went the king, quite in despair, 
 to see all his place going to destruction ; 
 but he suddenly espied a little heart's- 
 ease, low down by the ground, with its 
 face turned up to him, looking as bright 
 and smiling as possible. He stopped and 
 said, " You dear little heart's-ease, what 
 makes you look so bright and blooming, 
 when everything around you is withering 
 
 away ?" 
 
 " Why," said the heart's-ease, " I 
 thought you wanted me here ; if you 
 had wanted an oak, you would have 
 planted an acorn ; if you had wanted roses, 
 you would have set out a rose bush ; and 
 if you had wanted grapes, you would 
 have put in a grapevine. But I knew 
 that what you wanted of me was, to be 
 a heart's ease ; and so I thought I would 
 try and be the very best little heart's- 
 ease that ever I can. 
 

 CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 A happy heart will ever be 
 
 A crown of richest blessing ; 
 Life is deprived of half its ills, 
 
 A happy heart possessing, 
 Then who, oh ! who will troubles bear, 
 Nor choose a happy heart to wear ? 
 
 A cheerful smile will drive away 
 Each want so bleak and dreary ; 
 
 'Twill soothe the pangs of sickness, too, 
 And cheer the sad and weary. 
 
 Then who will proudly scorn, oh ! who, 
 
 The good a cheerful smile can do ! 
 
 A cheering word will ever be 
 A well of pleasure springing ; 
 
 Like a joyous spring, all bright and gay. 
 Sweet buds and flow'rets bringing ; 
 
 Sweet flowers of Hope, then let, who may, 
 
 A cheering word in kindness say ? 
 
BUDS. 
 
 Folded in its tiny leaflets, 
 
 Unrevealed to mortal eyes, 
 Many a flower most sweet and graceful, 
 
 In its modest beauty lies ; 
 Waiting but the charming sunshine, 
 
 And the gently falling dew, 
 To ope to life its matchless beauties 
 
 To the world's admiring view, 
 
 And the child— its hidden graces— 
 
 Like the bud with folded leaves, 
 Lingers but for smiles and sunshine 
 
 Which a friendly face can give, 
 Ere it burst the clasping petals, 
 
 Ere the human bud expands, 
 And reveals the wond'rous favours 
 
 Given by Eternal hands. 
 
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