Little Bird. [Going to Big Tree.] Oh, please, Big Fir Tree, may I rest here in your branches? I have hurt my wing, and I cannot fly.

Big Fir Tree. No, I cannot have any little birds in my branches. I must grow straight and tall, for I mean to be a Christmas tree some day.

Little Bird. [Goes to Little Tree.] Oh, please, dear tree, may I not find shelter from the cold in your branches? My wing is broken, and I cannot fly. I have come a long way over the ice and snow.

Little Fir Tree. No, I cannot give shelter to any birds in my branches.

Little Bird. But I’m very tired, and I shall do your branches no harm.

Little Fir Tree. It cannot be. I must hold my head up high and my branches out straight, for I mean to be a Christmas tree.

Little Bird. I’m afraid I shall freeze out here in the snow. [Little Bird goes on.]

Little Bird. [Softly.] Please, Littlest Fir Tree, may I rest in your branches? I am so cold and hungry. I do not think I can go any farther.

Littlest Fir Tree. Yes, yes, Little Bird. Creep up close to my trunk. I will cover you as best I can with my little branches. Come close. I’m glad to have you here.

Little Bird. Thank you, kind tree.

Big Fir Tree. I hear sleigh bells. The bells come nearer and nearer. Some one is coming this way. Some one is coming through the woods.

Little Fir Tree. Who is it, Big Fir Tree? I cannot see so far as you can. Tell me what you see.

Big Fir Tree. I see a sleigh and reindeer. Some one all wrapped in fur is in the sleigh.

Little Fir Tree. Oh, I feel that some one is coming for me. Now I am going to be a Christmas tree. The bells sound nearer and nearer. I see the sleigh.

Santa Claus. [Alights from his sleigh and looks at Big Tree.] A fine tree—tall and straight! But it is too tall for my Christmas tree. I must look farther. [Goes on to next tree.] Ah! Here’s another; but there’s a little one I see just at the foot of the hill. I believe it is the most beautiful tree in all the wood. [Goes to Littlest Tree.] Little tree, you hold your head up straight, and your branches spread out in all directions. I must have you for my Christmas tree. [Seeing Little Bird.] Who is this that has found shelter in your branches? A little bird. I will take it, too, and it shall be some little child’s Christmas present.