During Easter week a peasant went out to see whether the ground was all thawed out.
He went into the garden and touched the soil with a stick. The earth was soft. The peasant went into the woods; here the catkins were already swelling on the willows. The peasant thought:
“I will fence my garden with willows; they will grow up and will make a good hedge!”
He took his axe, cut down a dozen willows, sharpened them at the end, and stuck them in the ground.
All the willows sent up sprouts with leaves, and underground let out just such sprouts for roots; and some of them took hold of the ground and grew, and others did not hold well to the ground with their roots, and died and fell down.
In the fall the peasant was glad at the sight of his willows: six of them had taken root. The following spring the sheep killed two willows by gnawing at them, and only two were left. Next spring the sheep nibbled at these also. One of them was completely ruined, and the other came to, took root, and grew to be a tree. In the spring the bees just buzzed in the willow. In swarming time the swarms were often put out on the willow, and the peasants brushed them in. The men and women frequently ate and slept under the willow, and the children climbed on it and broke off rods from it.
The peasant that had set out the willow was long dead, and still it grew. His eldest son twice cut down its branches and used them for firewood.