"I planted all these trees," said Mr. Leonard as they walked under the
maples that grew on either side of the road. "It is wonderful how they
have grown. They were like little sticks when I set them out."

"The one at the end of the row," said Mrs. Leonard, "was planted the day
Frank was born."

"It is the largest of them all," said Frank.

"That's because it was planted first," said Susie. "I have a tree, too,
uncle."

"So have I," said Donald. "It is the spruce in the front yard."

"We call them our birthday trees," said Susie. "Mine is the elm by the
corner of the porch."

"That is a very nice custom," said Uncle Robert. "But the trees grow
faster than you do."

"They don't have anything to do but grow," said Donald.

When they reached the bridge they paused to look up and down the creek
valley. Through the trees they caught glimpses of the shining river and
the waving corn. The creek, a little stream, flowed between the two
gentle slopes that formed its valley.

"There's a gate under this bridge, uncle," said Donald, "to keep the
cows from going down the creek to the cornfield. In the fall, after the