He was
so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree,
and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree
was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was
blowing and roaring above it. "Climb up! little boy," said the
Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy
was too tiny.
And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. "How selfish I have
been!" he said; "now I know why the Spring would not come here. I
will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I
will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children's
playground for ever and ever." He was really very sorry for what
he had done.
So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and
went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they were
so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter
again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full
of tears that he did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole
up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into
the tree.
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