HOW THE MOUNTAIN WAS CLAD

From 'Arne'

There was a deep gorge between two mountains. Through this gorge a
large, full stream flowed heavily over a rough and stony bottom. Both
sides were high and steep, and so one side was bare; but close to its
foot, and so near the stream that the latter sprinkled it with moisture
every spring and autumn, stood a group of fresh-looking trees, gazing
upward and onward, yet unable to advance this way or that.

"What if we should clothe the mountain?" said the juniper one day to the
foreign oak, to which it stood nearer than all the others. The oak
looked down to find out who it was that spoke, and then it looked up
again without deigning a reply. The river rushed along so violently that
it worked itself into a white foam; the north wind had forced its way
through the gorge and shrieked in the clefts of the rocks; the naked
mountain, with its great weight, hung heavily over and felt cold. "What
if we should clothe the mountain?" said the juniper to the fir on the
other side. "If anybody is to do it, I suppose it must be we," said the
fir, taking hold of its beard and glancing toward the birch. "What do
you think?" But the birch peered cautiously up, at the mountain, which
hung over it so threateningly that it seemed as if it could scarcely
breathe. "Let us clothe it, in God's name!" said the birch. And so,
though there were but these three, they undertook to clothe the
mountain. The juniper went first.

When they had gone a little way, they met the heather. The juniper
seemed as though about to go past it. "Nay, take the heather along,"
said the fir. And the heather joined them. Soon it began to glide on