"Yes," said the fir-tree, "the east is black, and only the wind and the
snow issue from it."

"Keep your head out of my way!" cried the pine-tree to the fir; "with your
constant bobbing around I can hardly see at all."

"Take _that_ for your bad manners," retorted the fir, slapping the
pine-tree savagely with one of her longest branches.

The pine-tree would put up with no such treatment, so he hurled his
largest cone at the fir; and for a moment or two it looked as if there
were going to be a serious commotion in the forest.

"Hush!" cried the vine in a startled tone; "there is some one coming
through the forest."

The pine-tree and the fir stopped quarrelling, and the snowdrop nestled
closer to the vine, while the vine hugged the pine-tree very tightly. All
were greatly alarmed.

"Nonsense!" said the pine-tree, in a tone of assumed bravery. "No one
would venture into the forest at such an hour."

"Indeed! and why not?" cried a child's voice. "Will you not let me watch
with you for the coming of the prince?"

"Will you not chop me down?" inquired the pine-tree, gruffly.

"Will you not tear me from my tree?" asked the vine.