Come, let's go to the old tree and see how it looks now."
Johnnie all at once became grave, and said No, he wouldn't go to it for
anything. She was curious and made him tell her the reason. He had never
forgotten that day and the fear that came into his mind on account of
the words the strange man had spoken. She didn't know what the words
were; she had been too frightened to listen, and so he had to tell her.
"Then, 'tis a wishing-tree for sure," Marty exclaimed. When he asked her
what a wishing-tree was, she could only say that her old grandmother,
now dead, had told her. 'Tis a tree that knows us and can do us good and
harm, but will do good only to some; but they must go to it and ask for
its protection, and they must offer it something as well as pray to it.
It must be something bright--a little jewel or coloured bead is best,
and if you haven't got such a thing, a bright-coloured ribbon, or strip
of scarlet cloth or silk thread--which you must tie to one of the twigs.
"But we hurted the tree, Marty, and 'twill do no good to we."
They were both grave now; then a hopeful thought came to her aid. They
had not hurt the tree intentionally; the tree knew that--it knew more
than any human being.
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