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Rh "The 'talking trees'! I don't understand," commented Ammon. "No wonder!" laughed Elnora. "They are my discovery. You know all trees whisper and talk during the summer, but there are two that have so much to say they keep on the whole winter, when the others are silent. The beeches and oaks so love to talk, they cling to their dead, dry leaves. In the winter the winds are stiffest and blow most, so these trees whisper, chatter, sob, laugh, and at times roar until the sound is deafening. They never cease until new leaves come out in the spring to push off the old ones. I love to stand beneath them with my ear to the great trunks, interpreting what they say to fit my moods. The beeches branch low, and their leaves are small, so they only know common earthly things; but the oaks run straight above almost all other trees before they branch, their arms are mighty, their leaves large. They meet the winds that travel around the globe, and from them learn the big things." Ammon studied the girl face. "What do the beeches tell you, Elnora?" he asked gently. "To be patient, to be unselfish, to do unto others as I would have them do to me." "And the oaks?" "They say 'be true,' 'live a clean life,' 'send your soul up here and let the winds of the world teach it what honour achieves.'" "Wonderful secrets, those!" marvelled Ammon. "Are they telling them now? Could I hear?"