The Lost Dryad

There was once a dryad who was truly lost. The summer was drawing to a close; the nights were becoming cool she had no home and she did not know where she was. Not long before while she was still in her oak tree there had been a terrible storm; the tree had been dashed to the ground and splintered to pieces while the poor dryad had been blown away and away and away she did not know where. Now she was looking for another oak tree to live in but she was lost absolutely lost. One tree she found which she thought might shelter her but when she examined it she found that it was getting old and its trunk was badly cracked. After her terrible experience she was afraid to go into a cracked tree and so she kept on her way. At a little distance she saw a village shaded by trees and the thought came to her that she might possibly find a home in a big oak there. That would be fine truly. She had never lived in a village it would be a new experience. So she kept on but when she reached the place she found that few of the trees were oaks and these were not very well grown and too small for her. It was nearly supper-time in the village and therefore there were not many people in the street but presently she met a big man with a cross face.