illustration of story

On her way she passed another Coillte 'forest'. A tree farm. "Help," cried a tree, "we're so miserable, you must help us."

Little Miss Smelly stood and listened.

"We are trees of a different land, we're not supposed to grow here, like this all in a row - it's unnatural. See how these Coillte people spray us with foul poisons. Look, even the stream is dead!"

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