It was a great, big oak-tree.
"O big oak-tree," said the little bird, "will you let me live in your warm
branches until the springtime comes?"
"Dear me," said the oak-tree, "what a thing to ask! If you stay in my
branches all winter you will be eating my acorns. Go away."
So the little bird hopped and fluttered with his broken wing till he came
to the willow-tree by the edge of the brook.
"O beautiful willow-tree," said the little bird, "will you let me live in
your warm branches until the springtime comes?"
"No, indeed," said the willow-tree; "I never speak to strangers. Go away."
The poor little bird did not know where to go; but he hopped and
fluttered along with his broken wing. Presently the spruce-tree saw him,
and said, "Where are you going, little bird?"
"I do not know," said the bird; "the trees will not let me live with them,
and my wing is broken so that I cannot fly."
"You may live on one of my branches," said the spruce; "here is the
warmest one of all."
"But may I stay all winter?"
"Yes," said the spruce; "I shall like to have you."
The pine-tree stood beside the spruce, and when he saw the little bird
hopping and fluttering with his broken wing, he said, "My branches are not
very warm, but I can keep the wind off because I am big and strong.
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