"When Iris came back she missed the pot of gold and of course she
was in a sad way about it. She sent Mercury, the messenger of the
gods, to look for it, for she didn't dare leave the rainbow again,
lest somebody should run off with that too. Mercury asked all the
trees if they had seen the pot of gold, and the elm, oak and pine
pointed to the poplar and said,
"'The poplar can tell you where it is.'
"'How can I tell you where it is?' cried the poplar, and she held
up all her branches in surprise, just as we hold up our hands--and
down tumbled the pot of gold. The poplar was amazed and
indignant, for she was a very honest tree. She stretched her
boughs high above her head and declared that she would always hold
them like that, so that nobody could hide stolen gold under them
again. And she taught all the little poplars she knew to stand
the same way, and that is why Lombardy poplars always do. But the
aspen poplar leaves are always shaking, even on the very calmest
day. And do you know why?"
And then she told us the old legend that the cross on which the
Saviour of the world suffered was made of aspen poplar wood and so
never again could its poor, shaken, shivering leaves know rest or
peace. There was an aspen in the orchard, the very embodiment of
youth and spring in its litheness and symmetry.
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