When the warm winds blew, they bowed their heads and waved their blossom-covered arms until they looked like gay little flower girls dancing in the sun-shine.
Then the birds came together, and sang sweet songs to the fragrant, happy trees, and their joy lasted from spring until summer.
But once in the summer time the Lemon Tree talked all night long, telling the Pumelo Tree of a great sorrow that had come to her. And she said, "I wish I were a Pumelo Tree, for I have learned that the children of men do not like my children so well as they like yours.
"The first born of my family are thrown away or destroyed. The second generation are taken from me and put in the sunshine for twenty days before they are liked. They are never seen in the market places as your children are, for it is said we are too bitter and sour.
"My children are not well thought of. Ah me! I wish I were not a Lemon Tree.
"Why did the Creator make your children so sweet that they have a good name in all the world, while mine are sour and bitter?
"My flowers are the same as your flowers. My trees are liked the same as yours, but my fruit is almost despised.
