Select the desired text size
This story is suitable for children age 6 to 8 approx.
From The Book of Stories for the Storyteller by Fanny E. Coe.
Start of Story
Long ago there lived a Grecian youth named Rhoecus. Just outside the
city where Rhoecus dwelt was a wood. This wood was very old. Some
said there were oaks in the forest that had been growing for a
One day Rhoecus was passing through the wood. Before him he saw a
noble oak about to fall. He ran and propped its mossy trunk with great
branches that he took from the ground.
As he was turning away, he heard a soft voice say, "Rhoecus." There
beside the tree stood a beautiful dryad.
"I am the spirit of this tree," she said. "As long as it lives, I
live. When it falls, I die. You, Rhoecus, have just saved my life.
Ask what you will and it is yours."
Rhoecus gazed at the dryad with wonder and awe. "You are the fairest
being I have ever seen. Give me your love," he cried.
"You shall have it, Rhoecus," replied the dryad sadly. "Meet me
here an hour before the sunset."
With a happy heart and a gay step Rhoecus went on his way to the
town. He had won a most beautiful bride. To celebrate his joy, he
thought he would play a game of dice with his friends.
The game took all his thought, for he was most unlucky. He lost once,
twice, and even a third time. He forgot all about the dryad. The sun
sank lower and lower and still he played on.
At last a bee entered the window and brushed against his forehead.
Rhoecus shook it off. Again and again the bee returned. At last
Rhoecus, in anger, struck the little creature and wounded it. Away
flew the bee and Rhoecus, looking after it, saw the red sun setting
over the trees of the thousand-year-old forest. He was too late!
Through the city and out of its gates he rushed. He sped across the
plain and entered the wood. At the tree no fair dryad awaited him. But
he heard a voice saying sadly, "Ah, Rhoecus, you forgot your promise
to me. You drove away with a cruel blow my little messenger who sought
to remind you of me. Because you have been harsh to the little bee,
your punishment is this: You shall never see me again."
"Ah, no! sweet spirit," cried Rhoecus. "Forgive me this once. I will
never sin again."
"Alas! it cannot be. Farewell," sighed the dryad. And Rhoecus saw
her no more.
In that hour he changed from a happy youth to a sad and lonely man.
All his life he longed to see the dryad whom he had lost for ever.