in the blacksmith shop, still the master of all the smiths.

Very few people, however, knew that it was the king's own son,
Siegfried, who had made the wonderful sword.




THE SONG OF THE PINE TREE


It was a wee pine tree in a very large forest. It could not see anything
around it, for the other pine trees about it were so very tall. They
could only tell the little pine tree what they saw. At night the little
tree would often gaze at the sky and the stars that peeped out. And
sometimes the big, round moon would pass over the sky. And all day long,
all that the little pine tree could see above it was the blue sky, and
the beautiful white clouds that went sailing by like so many ships on
the sea. The little pine tree wished to grow and be tall, like the rest
of the trees, for it wanted to see what was in the world outside of the
forest. The tall pine trees would sing songs as the wind whistled
through their branches, and the little pine tree waited day after day,
so that it might be tall and sing songs, too. When summer came the birds
would rest on the branches of this wee tree, but would not build nests,
because it was too low. When winter came little white snowflakes came
fluttering down and rested on the branches of the little pine tree.

Year after year the little tree waited, but it grew all this time, and
seemed to stretch higher and higher its beautiful green branches.