As from the days your father’s father knew,

This little story book now comes to you.

So when you turn its pages, heed them well:

Though strange the stories, many truths they tell.

They tell of animals and birds and trees,

Of children, flowers, and honeybees;

Of a queer old man, and a quaint old town

With crooked streets that ran up and down.

They tell of these and many, many more.

Still, this I’d add to what has gone before:

In the wood there grows a tree—the thrifty tree—

As wonderful as anything can be!

Its trunk is copper; silver are its leaves;

Its blossoms from bright golden threads it weaves;

Its fruit is health and wealth and honest joy—

So seek this goodly tree, wise girl and boy.