"They brought him home and buried him out there in the semingary," thetree added, "and that was the end of it. His father and mother didn'tlive very long after that, and then there wasn't anybody to take care ofhis grave any more. When that happened, I made up my mind that I'd dowhat I could; but around here all the apple-blossoms are withered andgone by the time Decoration Day comes, and nobody would take plainleaves like mine to put on a soldier's grave, so I began to put offblossoming until a little later than the other trees, and that's how Icame to be called the stupid little apple-tree. Nobody knew why I didit, but I did, and so I didn't mind being called stupid. I was doing itall for him, and every year since then I've been late, but on DecorationDay I've always had blossoms ready. The trouble has been, though, thatnobody has ever come for 'em, and I've had all my work and trouble sofar for nothing. It's been a great disappointment."
"I see," said Jimmieboy, softly. "What you want me to do is to take someof your blossoms over there to-morrow and put 'em--put 'em where youwant 'em put."
"That's it, that's it!" cried the stupid little apple-tree, eagerly."Oh, if you only will, Jimmieboy!"
"Indeed I will," said Jimmieboy. "I'll come here in the morning andgather up the blossoms, and take every one you have ready over in abasket, and I'll get papa to find out where your master's grave is, andhe'll have every one of them."
"Thank you, thank you," returned Stoopy; "and you'll find that all I'vesaid about your apple will come true, and after this I'll be _your_ treeforever and forever."
Jimmieboy was about to reply, when an inconsiderate tumble-bug trippedover his hand, which lay flat on the grass, and in an instant all of theboy's thoughts on the subject fled from his mind, and he found himselfsitting up on the grass, gazing sleepily about him. He knew that he hadprobably been dreaming, although he is by no means certain that that wasthe case, for, as if to remind him of his promise, as he started torise, a handful of blossoms loosened by the freshening evening breezescame fluttering down into his lap, and the little lad resolved that,dream or no dream, he would look up the whereabouts of the youngsoldier-boy's grave, and would decorate it with apple-blossoms, andthese from the stupid little apple-tree only.
And that is why one long-forgotten soldier's grave in the cemeteryacross the hills back of Jimmieboy's house was white and sweetlyfragrant with apple-blossoms when the sun had gone down upon DecorationDay.
As for the stupid little apple-tree, it is still at work upon themarvelously red-cheeked apple which Jimmieboy is to claim as his reward.
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