“It is the sun, it was so strong,” said Kesta. “Then sit down and grow cool,” said Adam. “But I wonder what all that shouting outside can be?” “It is only people making holiday,” cried Kesta. But for all she could say Adam went out to ask the people what they wanted at the farm? “We want nothing at the farm,” they cried, “but we followed that impudent wench dressed in yellow.” “Why, what has she done?” asked Adam. “Done!” they cried. “Why, she came up to the town and asked to marry the miller, and the banker, and the bailiff, and the General, and even the Duke himself, so she deserves to be punished for her presumption.” Then Adam looked very grave, and went back to the farm and said, “Indeed, Kesta, I cannot marry you now, since you’ve been to the town and tried to get a finer husband than me,” and he went back to his work, and left Kesta sitting all alone; and there she sat and cried by herself, and did not get any husband after all, because she was so false and vain. [Illustration: THE POOL & THE TREE] ONCE there was a tree standing in the middle of a vast wilderness, and beneath the shade of its branches was a little pool, over which they bent. The pool looked up at the tree and the tree looked down at the pool, and the two loved each other better than anything else on earth. And neither of them thought of anything else but each other, or cared who came and went in the world around them. “But for you and the shade you give me I should have been dried up by the sun long ago,” said the pool. “And if it were not for you and your shining face, I should never have seen myself, or have known what my boughs and blossoms were like,” answered the tree. Every year when the leaves and flowers had died away from the branches of the tree, and the cold winter came, the little pool froze over and remained hard and silent till the spring; but directly the sun’s rays thawed it, it again sparkled and danced as the wind blew upon it, and it began to watch its beloved friend, to see the buds and leaves reappear, and together they counted the leaves and blossoms as they came forth. One day there rode over the moorland a couple of travellers in search of rare plants and flowers. At first they did not look at the tree, but as they were hot and tired they got off their horses, and sat under the shade of the boughs, and talked of what they had been doing. “We have not found much,” said one gloomily; “it seemed scarcely worth while to come so far for so little.”