us reverse the classical roles--let me bethe Apollo to your Daphne! Don't let Phyllis stand in our way. The Greekgods never let a little thing like marriage interfere with their plans."
* * * * *
"But I love Phyllis," he said in confusion. "I love you, too," he added,"but in a different way."
"Yes, I know. More like a sister. However, I have plenty of sisters andI don't need a brother."
"We're starting a conservation program," he tried to comfort her. "Wehave every hope of getting some pollen from the other side of the planetonce we have explained to the trees there how far we can make a littlego, and you've got to accept it; you mustn't be silly about it."
"It isn't the same thing, Jim, and you know it. One of the penalties ofintelligence is a diffusiveness of the natural instincts. I wouldrather not fruit at all than--"
"Magnolia, you just don't understand. No matter how much you--well,pursue me, I can never turn into a laurel tree."
"I didn't--"
"Or any kind of tree! Look, some more books were just sent over fromBase."
Magnolia gave a rueful rustle. "Just were sent? Didn't they come over amonth ago?"
James flushed. "I know I haven't had a chance to do much reading to youin the last few weeks, Maggie--or any at all, in fact--but I've been sobusy. After the baby's born, things will be much less hectic and we'llbe able to catch up."
"Of course, James. I understand. Naturally your family comes first."
"One of the books that came was an advanced zoology text that might makethings a little clearer."
"I should very much like to hear it. When you have the time to spare,that is."
"Tell you what," he said. "I'll get the book and read you the chapter onthe reproductive system in mammals. Won't take more than an hour or so."
"If you're in a hurry, it can wait."
"No," he told her. "This will make me feel a little less guilty abouthaving neglected you."
* * * * *
"Whereupon the umbilical cord is severed," he concluded, "and the humaninfant is ready to take its place in the world as a separate entity. Nowdo you understand, Magnolia?"
"No," she said. "Where do the bees come in?"
"I thought you were in such a hurry to get to Base, James," Phyllisremarked sweetly from the doorway, wiping her reddening hands on a dishtowel.
"I am, dear." He slipped the book behind his back; it was possible that,in her present state of mind--induced, of course, by her delicatecondition--Phyllis might misunderstand his motive in reading thatparticular chapter of that particular book to that particular tree. "Ijust stopped for a chat with Magnolia. She's agreed to be godmother tothe baby."
"How very nice of her. Earth Government will be so pleased at such a_fine_ example of rapport with the natives. You might even get a medal.Wouldn't that be nice?... James," she hurried on, before he could speak,"you still haven't found any green-leafed plants on the planet, haveyou? Have you looked everywhere? Have you looked _hard_?"
"Haven't I told you time and time again, Mrs. Haut," the tree said,"that there aren't any--that there can't be any? It's impossible tosynthesize chlorophyll from the light rays given off by our sun--onlycyanophyll. What do you want with a green-leafed plant, anyway?"
Phyllis's voice broke. "I think I'd lose my mind if I was convinced thatI'd never see a green leaf again. All this awful blue, blue, blue, allthe time, and the leaves never fall, or, if they do, there are new onesright away to take their place. They're always there--always blue."
"We're everblue," Magnolia explained. "Sorry, but that's the way it is."
"Jim, I hate to hurt your feelings, but I just have to take down thosecurtains. The colors--I can't stand it!"
* * * * *
"Pregnant women sometimes get fanciful notions," James said to the tree."It's part of the pregnancy syndrome. Try not to pay any attention."
"Kindly don't explain me to a tree!" Phyllis cried. "I have a right toprefer green, don't I?"
"There is, as your proverb says, no accounting for strange tastes," thetree murmured. "However--"
"We're going to have a formal christening," James interrupted, for thesake of the peace. "We thought we should, since ours will be the firstbaby born on the planet. Everybody on Elysium will come--that is, allthe human beings. Only because they _can_ come, you know; we'd love tohave the trees if they were capable of locomotor movement. You'll get towiden your social contacts, Maggie. Dr. Lakin and Dr. Cutler willprobably be here; I know you'll be glad to see Dr. Lakin again, andyou've been anxious to meet Dr. Cutler. They've been asking after you,too. I think Dr. Lakin is planning to write a monograph on you for the_Journal of the American Association of Professors of EnglishLiterature_--with your permission, of course."
"Christening--that's one of your native festivals, isn't it? It shouldbe most interesting."
"That's right," Phyllis murmured. "It will be Christmas soon. I'd almostforgotten. It'll be the first Christmas I've ever spent away from home.And there won't be any snow or--or anything." She started to guttate--tocry again.
"Cheer up, honey," Jim said. "It won't be as bad as you think, because Ididn't forget Christmas was coming. There's something specially nice foryou on its way from Earth; I only hope it gets here on time." Phyllissniffled. "Maybe we'll have a Christmas party, too. Would you likethat?" But she remained unresponsive.
He turned to the tree. "Christening's entirely different, though," heexplained. "It's--I guess naming the fruit would be the best way todescribe it."
"Is that so?" Magnolia said. "What kind of fruit do you expect to have,Mrs. Haut? Oranges? Bananas? As your good St. Luke says, the tree isknown by its fruit. You look as if yours might be a watermelon."
"Why, the--idea!" Phyllis choked. "Are you going to stand there, James,and let that _vegetable_ insult me?"
"I'm sure she didn't mean to," he protested. "She got confused by--thatzoology book I read her."
The door slammed behind his weeping wife.
"I don't think you quite understand, Maggie," he said. "In fact,sometimes I almost think you, too, don't want to understand."
"I know what kind of fruit it's going to be," the tree concludedtriumphantly. "Sour apples."
* * * * *
"Ouch," exclaimed Magnolia, "that tickles! There's more to acting as aChristmas tree than I had anticipated from your glowing descriptions,Jim."
"Here, dear," Phyllis said, "maybe you'd better let me put thedecorations on her."
"You can't get on the ladder in your condition," he said, apprehensivenot only for her welfare but for the tree's. Phyllis had not takenkindly to the idea of having Magnolia as official Christmas tree,suggesting that, if she must participate in the ceremonies, it might bebetter in the capacity of Yule log. However, Jim knew Magnolia would beoffended if any other tree were chosen to be decorated.
"I'll manage all right," he assured his wife. "If you want to be useful,you might put on some coffee and make sandwiches or something. Thebachelors are coming over from Base with that equipment that arrivedyesterday, and they'll probably be glad of a snack before turning in."
"The coffee's already on and the canapes made," Phyllis smiled. "AndI've baked cookies, too, and whipped up a batch of penuche. What kind ofa Christmas party do you think it would be without refreshments?"
"Very efficient, isn't she?" Magnolia remarked, as the battery-poweredlights that James had affixed to her began to wink on, for the deepred-violet dusk had already fallen and the first moon was rising. "Haveyou thought, Mrs. Haut, that if you fruit today, it will save theexpense of another festival?"
"I don't expect to fruit for another two months," Phyllis said coldly,"and why shouldn't we have another festival? We can afford it and I likeparties. I haven't been to one since the day I landed."
"Is the life out here getting a little quiet for you, petiole?" the treeasked solicitously. "It must be h
ard when one has no intellectualresources upon which to draw."
* * * * *
Phyllis held her