So now we know what he looks like too,
this jolly juniper tree.

At times I think he sings to himself
a cheerful little song:
"I've got a bright blue heaven
to look at all day long!"
Sometimes to his juniper brothers
he calls that they need not fear
the trolls that are prowling and peering
about them far and near.
Gently the winter evening
falls over the copse on the height,
and a thousand stars and candles
are lit in the plains of the sky.
The juniper trees grow weary
and nod their heads on the sly;
before we know it they're fast asleep,
so we say: "Good night, good night!"

I got up and wrote out these rhymes on a sheet of paper, which I sent to a
little girl, a child with whom I had walked much in the country, and she
learned them at once. Then I read them to Mrs. Brede's little girls, who
stood still like two bluebells, listening. Then they tore the paper out of
my hand and ran to their mother with it. They loved their mother very
much. And she loved them too; they had the most delightful fun together at
bedtime.

Brave Mrs. Brede with her children! She might have committed a madness,
but could not find it in her heart to do so. Yet did anyone prize her for