Me and the Cherry Tree Stag

The Stag

Saint Hubert, the protector of hunters and sportsmen, met a noble stag one day with the Holy Cross between his antlers - so people say. Well, I for one believe it because of something I myself have seen:

In the forest of Alabaster Corner one day I found myself face to face with a stag. How I wished I had not used up all my ammunition! The stag looked me so fearlessly in the eye, I almost thought he knew I had no bullets in the pockets of my hunting coat.

Luckily, though, I had some cherries in my pockets. As quickly as I could, I chewed up a handful, loaded my gun with the cherry pits, and fired away at the stag. A pit hit him in the middle of the forehead, between the antlers. It stunned him. He staggered, yet ran off.

A year or two later, I was with a hunting party in the same forest, and whom should I meet but the very same stag? How could I tell it was he? Why, by the fine, full-grown cherry tree growing between his antlers!

This time I shot him properly - which gave me roast venison for my dinner and also cherry sauce to go with it. For the tree was covered with fruit, richer than any I had ever tasted before.

I keep his mount for a momento, though the tree has withered away, leaving almost no trace of its presence. 

Trees Flying Through the Sky and other Amazing Results of a Storm

On our voyage home from Ceylon we stopped at another island, a pretty strange place where cherries and apples grow under the ground, but carrots, cucumbers and even chickens grow in the trees.

As we approached, a storm was raging.  It had uprooted lots of huge trees, each one probably weighing ten tons or so. And now these trees blew about so high - at least five miles above the island - they looked like small birds' feathers floating in the sky.

The moment the storm let up, the trees dropped down, perfectly straight. Each tree dropped into its own hole, and instantly took root again. Only the biggest one did not. That tree happened to have a very honest old husband and wife in its branches; they had been picking cucumbers for their supper when the storm had come along.

Now the weight of this honest old couple overbalanced the trunk, so the tree came down sideways. And by a lucky accident, it fell smack on top of the island's chief, and killed him on the spot.

I say "lucky," because this chief had been the meanest, greediest man you ever saw, and used to take the natives food, feast himself fat, and let them nearly starve to death.

Imagine how they cheered to be rid of this tyrant! And they chose the honest old cucumber-picker husband to the their new chief.

We soon repaired the damages the storm had done to our ship, took leave of these good islanders, and sailed with fair wind for Holland, making but one stop, to Miss Susanna's Victorian Tea Parlor for an afternoon Grand Tea.