in the morning he saw the gnarled tree lying upon the ground. "Now I
shall be all by myself again!" he said. Then he counted the rings in the
trunk of the gnarled tree until he came to three hundred, which was as
far as he could count. "More than three hundred years have passed since
that silly little squirrel dropped the nut from which this tree grew!"
said the old, rough Stone to himself.

[Illustration]

Then men came with axes and cut up the tree and carried all of it away.

When the hot summer days came the sun beat down upon the old, rough
Stone and he missed the shade of the gnarled tree. "My! It's hot!" said
the old, rough Stone, "I wish the gnarled tree with its pretty rustling
leaves were here again to shade me and keep me cool!"

When winter came the old, rough Stone missed the leaves which fell
around him and kept him warm.

"Oh dear! How cold it is!" he cried, "I wish the gnarled tree would come
back and scatter his leaves about me to protect me from the cold!"

So years and years and years passed, and the great old, rough Stone lay
all alone.

"I wish another squirrel would come to eat nuts upon me!" he thought.
"Squirrels are such knowing little creatures, I am sure another might
drop a nut which would grow into a lovely tree to keep me company."

But, many more years passed, and never again did a tiny squirrel sit