it was in the month of may. the wind was still cold, but spring had come, said the trees and the bushes, the fields and the meadows. everywhere flowers were budding into blossom; even the hedges were alive with them. here spring spoke about herself; it spoke from a little apple tree, from which hung a single branch so fresh and blooming, and fairly weighed down by a glorious mass of rosy buds just ready to open.
now this branch knew how lovely it was, for that knowledge lies in the leaf as well as in the flesh, so it wasn't a bit surprised when one day a grand carriage stopped in the road beside it, and the young countess in the carriage said that this apple branch was the most beautiful she had ever seen-it was spring itself in its loveliest form. so she broke off the apple branch and carried it in her own dainty hand, shading it from the sun with her silk parasol, as they drove on to her castle, in which there were lofty halls and beautifully decorated rooms. fleecy-white curtains fluttered at its open windows, and there were many shining, transparent vases full of beautiful flowers. in one of these vases, which looked as if it were carved of new-fallen snow, she placed the apple branch, among fresh green beech leaves-a lovely sight indeed.
and so it happened that the apple branch grew proud, and that's quite human.
all sorts of people passed through the rooms, and according to their rank expressed their admiration in different ways; some said too much, some said too little, and some said nothing at all. and the apple branch began to realize that there were differences in people as well as in plants.
