the next summer, an old professor, with a pair of spectacles on his nose and a great botanizing-case on his back, came roaming through the wood.

he sat down under the crab-apple-tree to eat his lunch, but fell a-thinking in the middle of it, leant his head back against the trunk and looked up into the leaves.

suddenly he jumped up, dropped his sandwich and stared hard at the mistletoe. he took off his spectacles, wiped them on the skirt of his coat, put them back on his nose and went on staring.

then he ran in and fetched the old keeper:

"keeper, do you see that tree?" he said. "that's the most remarkable tree in the whole wood."

"that one there?" said the keeper. "why, it's only an old crab-apple-tree, professor. you should see a couple of apple-trees i have in my garden."

"i don't care a fig for them," said the professor. "i would give all the apple-trees in the world for this one tree. there's a mistletoe growing on her, you must know, and the mistletoe is the rarest plant in denmark. you must put a fence round the tree at once, so that no one can hurt her. for, if she dies, then the mistletoe dies too."

and a fence was put round the old apple-tree. the professor wrote about her in the newspapers; and every one who came to the neighbourhood had to go and look at the mistletoe.

"well?" said the mistletoe.

"my dear little foster-child," said the crab-apple-tree, "if there's anything you require, do, for goodness' sake, say so!"

when the keeper's old dog came out and wanted to rub himself, he remained standing in amazement and looked at the fence with his one, half-blind eye.

"you can go back to the garden and rub yourself against the real apple-trees!" said the crab-apple-tree, haughtily. "i stand here with a mistletoe and must be treated with the utmost care. if i die, the mistletoe dies: do you understand? i have been written about in the papers. i am the most important tree in the wood!"

"yes ... you're all that!" said the dog and jogged home again.