No More Learning

Read the parable of the intrusted
talent! The MASTER, who spoke that parable, spoke the truth! What hast
thou gained? What hast thou found? Dost thou not fashion for thyself a
religion and a dreamy life after thine own idea, as almost all do?
Suppose all this is a dream, a fair delusion! "

"Get thee away from me, Satan! " said the monk; and he quitted
Angelo.

"There is a devil, a personal devil! This day I have seen him! "
said the monk to himself. "Once I extended a finger to him, and he
took my whole hand. But now," he sighed, "the evil is within me, and
it is in yonder man; but it does not bow him down; he goes abroad with
head erect, and enjoys his comfort; and I grasped at comfort in the
consolations of religion. If it were nothing but a consolation?
Supposing everything here were, like the world I have quitted, only
a beautiful fancy, a delusion like the beauty of the evening clouds,
like the misty blue of the distant hills! --when you approach them,
they are very different! O eternity! Thou actest like the great calm
ocean, that beckons us, and fills us with expectation--and when we
embark upon thee, we sink, disappear, and cease to be. Delusion!
away with it! begone! "

And tearless, but sunk in bitter reflection, he sat upon his
hard couch, and then knelt down--before whom? Before the stone cross
fastened to the wall? No, it was only habit that made him take this
position.

The more deeply he looked into his own heart, the blacker did
the darkness seem. "Nothing within, nothing without--this life
squandered and cast away! " And this thought rolled and grew like a
snowball, until it seemed to crush him.

"I can confide my griefs to none. I may speak to none of the
gnawing worm within. My secret is my prisoner; if I let the captive
escape, I shall be his! "

And the godlike power that dwelt within him suffered and strove.

"O Lord, my Lord! " he cried, in his despair, "be merciful and
grant me faith. I threw away the gift thou hadst vouchsafed to me, I
left my mission unfulfilled. I lacked strength, and strength thou
didst not give me. Immortality--the Psyche in my breast--away with
it! --it shall be buried like that Psyche, the best gleam of my life;
never will it arise out of its grave! "

The Star glowed in the roseate air, the Star that shall surely
be extinguished and pass away while the soul still lives on; its
trembling beam fell upon the white wall, but it wrote nothing there
upon being made perfect in God, nothing of the hope of mercy, of the
reliance on the divine love that thrills through the heart of the
believer.

"The Psyche within can never die. Shall it live in
consciousness? Can the incomprehensible happen? Yes, yes. My being
is incomprehensible. Thou art unfathomable, O Lord. Thy whole world is
incomprehensible--a wonder-work of power, of glory and of love. "

His eyes gleamed, and then closed in death. The tolling of the
church bell was the last sound that echoed above him, above the dead
man; and they buried him, covering him with earth that had been
brought from Jerusalem, and in which was mingled the dust of many of
the pious dead.

When years had gone by his skeleton was dug up, as the skeletons
of the monks who had died before him had been; it was clad in a
brown frock, a rosary was put into the bony hand, and the form was
placed among the ranks of other skeletons in the cloisters of the
convent. And the sun shone without, while within the censers were
waved and the Mass was celebrated.


And years rolled by.

The bones fell asunder and became mingled with others. Skulls were
piled up till they formed an outer wall around the church; and there
lay also his head in the burning sun, for many dead were there, and no
one knew their names, and his name was forgotten also. And see,
something was moving in the sunshine, in the sightless cavernous eyes!
What might that be? A sparkling lizard moved about in the skull,
gliding in and out through the sightless holes. The lizard now
represented all the life left in that head, in which once great
thoughts, bright dreams, the love of art and of the glorious, had
arisen, whence hot tears had rolled down, where hope and immortality
had had their being. The lizard sprang away and disappeared, and the
skull itself crumbled to pieces and became dust among dust.

Centuries passed away. The bright Star gleamed unaltered,
radiant and large, as it had gleamed for thousands of years, and the
air glowed red with tints fresh as roses, crimson like blood.

There, where once had stood the narrow lane containing the ruins
of the temple, a nunnery was now built. A grave was being dug in the
convent garden for a young nun who had died, and was to be laid in the
earth this morning. The spade struck against a hard substance; it
was a stone, that shone dazzling white. A block of marble soon
appeared, a rounded shoulder was laid bare; and now the spade was
plied with a more careful hand, and presently a female head was
seen, and butterflies' wings. Out of the grave in which the young
nun was to be laid they lifted, in the rosy morning, a wonderful
statue of a Psyche carved in white marble.

"How beautiful, how perfect it is! " cried the spectators. "A relic
of the best period of art. "

And who could the sculptor have been? No one knew; no one
remembered him, except the bright star that had gleamed for
thousands of years. The star had seen the course of that life on
earth, and knew of the man's trials, of his weakness--in fact, that he
had been but human. The man's life had passed away, his dust had
been scattered abroad as dust is destined to be; but the result of his
noblest striving, the glorious work that gave token of the divine
element within him--the Psyche that never dies, that lives beyond
posterity--the brightness even of this earthly Psyche remained here
after him, and was seen and acknowledged and appreciated.

The bright Morning Star in the roseate air threw its glancing
ray downward upon the Psyche, and upon the radiant countenances of the
admiring spectators, who here beheld the image of the soul portrayed
in marble.

What is earthly will pass away and be forgotten, and the Star in
the vast firmament knows it. What is heavenly will shine brightly
through posterity; and when the ages of posterity are past, the
Psyche--the soul--will still live on!




THE PUPPET-SHOW MAN

On board a steamer I once met an elderly man, with such a merry
face that, if it was really an index of his mind, he must have been
the happiest fellow in creation; and indeed he considered himself
so, for I heard it from his own mouth. He was a Dane, the owner of a
travelling theatre. He had all his company with him in a large box,
for he was the proprietor of a puppet-show. His inborn cheerfulness,
he said, had been tested by a member of the Polytechnic Institution,
and the experiment had made him completely happy. I did not at first
understand all this, but afterwards he explained the whole story to
me; and here it is:--

"I was giving a representation," he said, "in the hall of the
posting-house in the little town of Slagelse; there was a splendid
audience, entirely juvenile excepting two respectable matrons. All
at once, a person in black, of student-like appearance, entered the
room, and sat down; he laughed aloud at the telling points, and
applauded quite at the proper time. This was a very unusual
spectator for me, and I felt anxious to know who he was. I heard
that he was a member of the Polytechnic Institution in Copenhagen, who
had been sent out to lecture to the people in the provinces.
Punctually at eight o'clock my performance closed, for children must
go early to bed, and a manager must also consult the convenience of
the public.

"At nine o'clock the lecturer commenced his lecture and his
experiments, and then I formed a part of his audience. It was
wonderful both to hear and to see. The greater part of it was beyond
my comprehension, but it led me to think that if we men can acquire so
much, we must surely be intended to last longer than the little span
which extends only to the time when we are hidden away under the
earth. His experiments were quite miracles on a small scale, and yet
the explanations flowed as naturally as water from his lips. At the
time of Moses and the prophets, such a man would have been placed
among the sages of the land; in the middle ages they would have
burnt him at the stake.

"All night long I could not sleep; and the next evening when I
gave another performance and the lecturer was present, I was in one of
my best moods.

"I once heard of an actor, who, when he had to act the part of a
lover, always thought of one particular lady in the audience; he
only played for her, and forgot all the rest of the house, and now the
Polytechnic lecturer was my she, my only auditor, for whom alone I
played.

"When the performance was over, and the puppets removed behind the
curtain, the Polytechnic lecturer invited me into his room to take a
glass of wine. He talked of my comedies, and I of his science, and I
believe we were both equally pleased. But I had the best of it, for
there was much in what he did that he could not always explain to
me. For instance, why a piece of iron which is rubbed on a cylinder,
should become magnetic. How does this happen? The magnetic sparks come
to it,--but how? It is the same with people in the world; they are
rubbed about on this spherical globe till the electric spark comes
upon them, and then we have a Napoleon, or a Luther, or some one of
the kind.

"'The whole world is but a series of miracles,' said the lecturer,
'but we are so accustomed to them that we call them everyday matters. '
And he went on explaining things to me till my skull seemed lifted
from my brain, and I declared that were I not such an old fellow, I
would at once become a member of the Polytechnic Institution, that I
might learn to look at the bright side of everything, although I was
one of the happiest of men.

"'One of the happiest! ' said the lecturer, as if the idea
pleased him; 'are you really happy? '

"'Yes,' I replied; 'for I am welcomed in every town, when I arrive
with my company; but I certainly have one wish which sometimes
weighs upon my cheerful temper like a mountain of lead. I should
like to become the manager of a real theatre, and the director of a
real troupe of men and women. '

"'I understand,' he said; 'you would like to have life breathed
into your puppets, so that they might be living actors, and you
their director. And would you then be quite happy? '

"I said I believed so. But he did not; and we talked it over in
all manner of ways, yet could not agree on the subject. However, the
wine was excellent, and we clanked our glasses together as we drank.
There must have been magic in it, or I should most certainly become
tipsy; but that did not happen, for my mind seemed quite clear; and,
indeed, a kind of sunshine filled the room, and beamed from the eyes
of the Polytechnic lecturer. It made me think of the old stories
when the gods, in their immortal youth, wandered upon this earth,
and paid visits to mankind. I said so to him, and he smiled; and I
could have sworn that he was one of these ancient deities in disguise,
or, at all events, that he belonged to the race of the gods. The
result seemed to prove I was right in my suspicions; for it was
arranged that my highest wish should be granted, that my puppets
were to be gifted with life, and that I was to be the manager of a
real company. We drank to my success, and clanked our glasses. Then he
packed all my dolls into the box, and fastened it on my back, and I
felt as if I were spinning round in a circle, and presently found
myself lying on the floor. I remember that quite well. And then the
whole company sprang from the box. The spirit had come upon us all;
the puppets had become distinguished actors--at least, so they said
themselves--and I was their director.

"When all was ready for the first representation, the whole
company requested permission to speak to me before appearing in
public. The dancing lady said the house could not be supported
unless she stood on one leg; for she was a great genius, and begged to
be treated as such. The lady who acted the part of the queen
expected to be treated as a queen off the stage, as well as on it,
or else she said she should get out of practice. The man whose duty it
was to deliver a letter gave himself as many airs as he who took the
part of first lover in the piece; he declared that the inferior
parts were as important as the great ones, and deserving equal
consideration, as parts of an artistic whole. The hero of the piece
would only play in a part containing points likely to bring down the
applause of the house. The 'prima donna' would only act when the
lights were red, for she declared that a blue light did not suit her
complexion. It was like a company of flies in a bottle, and I was in
the bottle with them; for I was their director. My breath was taken
away, my head whirled, and I was as miserable as a man could be. It
was quite a novel, strange set of beings among whom I now found
myself. I only wished I had them all in my box again, and that I had
never been their director. So I told them roundly that, after all,
they were nothing but puppets; and then they killed me. After a
while I found myself lying on my bed in my room; but how I got
there, or how I got away at all from the Polytechnic professor, he may
perhaps know, I don't. The moon shone upon the floor, the box lay
open, and the dolls were all scattered about in great confusion; but I
was not idle. I jumped off the bed, and into the box they all had to
go, some on their heads, some on their feet. Then I shut down the lid,
and seated myself upon the box. 'Now you'll have to stay,' said I,
'and I shall be cautious how I wish you flesh and blood again. '

"I felt quite light, my cheerfulness had returned, and I was the
happiest of mortals. The Polytechnic professor had fully cured me. I
was as happy as a king, and went to sleep on the box. Next
morning--correctly speaking, it was noon, for I slept remarkably late
that day--I found myself still sitting there, in happy consciousness that
my former wish had been a foolish one. I inquired for the Polytechnic
professor; but he had disappeared like the Greek and Roman gods;
from that time I have been the happiest man in the world. I am a happy
director; for none of my company ever grumble, nor the public
either, for I always make them merry. I can arrange my pieces just
as I please. I choose out of every comedy what I like best, and no one
is offended. Plays that are neglected now-a-days by the great public
were ran after thirty years ago, and listened to till the tears ran
down the cheeks of the audience. These are the pieces I bring forward.
I place them before the little ones, who cry over them as papa and
mamma used to cry thirty years ago. But I make them shorter, for the
youngsters don't like long speeches; and if they have anything
mournful, they like it to be over quickly. "




THE RACES

A prize, or rather two prizes, a great one and a small one, had
been awarded for the greatest swiftness in running,--not in a single
race, but for the whole year.

"I obtained the first prize," said the hare. "Justice must still
be carried out, even when one has relations and good friends among the
prize committee; but that the snail should have received the second
prize, I consider almost an insult to myself. "

"No," said the fence-rail, who had been a witness at the
distribution of prizes; "there should be some consideration for
industry and perseverance. I have heard many respectable people say
so, and I can quite understand it. The snail certainly took half a
year to get over the threshold of the door; but he injured himself,
and broke his collar-bone by the haste he made. He gave himself up
entirely to the race, and ran with his house on his back, which was
all, of course, very praiseworthy; and therefore he obtained the
second prize. "

"I think I ought to have had some consideration too," said the
swallow. "I should imagine no one can be swifter in soaring and flight
than I am; and how far I have been! far, far away. "

"Yes, that is your misfortune," said the fence-rail; "you are so
fickle, so unsettled; you must always be travelling about into foreign
lands when the cold commences here. You have no love of fatherland
in you. There can be no consideration for you. "

"But now, if I have been lying the whole winter in the moor," said
the swallow, "and suppose I slept the whole time, would that be
taken into account? "

"Bring a certificate from the old moor-hen," said he, "that you
have slept away half your time in fatherland; then you will be treated
with some consideration. "

"I deserved the first prize, and not the second," said the
snail. "I know so much, at least, that the hare only ran from
cowardice, and because he thought there was danger in delay. I, on the
other hand, made running the business of my life, and have become a
cripple in the service. If any one had a first prize, it ought to have
been myself. But I do not understand chattering and boasting; on the
contrary, I despise it. " And the snail spat at them with contempt.

"I am able to affirm with word of oath, that each prize--at least,
those for which I voted--was given with just and proper
consideration," said the old boundary post in the wood, who was a
member of the committee of judges. "I always act with due order,
consideration, and calculation. Seven times have I already had the
honor to be present at the distribution of the prizes, and to vote;
but to-day is the first time I have been able to carry out my will.
I always reckon the first prize by going through the alphabet from the
beginning, and the second by going through from the end. Be so kind as
to give me your attention, and I will explain to you how I reckon from
the beginning. The eighth letter from A is H, and there we have H
for hare; therefore I awarded to the hare the first prize. The
eighth letter from the end of the alphabet is S, and therefore the
snail received the second prize. Next year, the letter I will have its
turn for the first prize, and the letter R for the second. "

"I should really have voted for myself," said the mule, "if I
had not been one of the judges on the committee. Not only the rapidity
with which advance is made, but every other quality should have due
consideration; as, for instance, how much weight a candidate is able
to draw; but I have not brought this quality forward now, nor the
sagacity of the hare in his flight, nor the cunning with which he
suddenly springs aside and doubles, to lead people on a false track,
thinking he has concealed himself. No; there is something else on
which more stress should be laid, and which ought not be left
unnoticed. I mean that which mankind call the beautiful. It is on
the beautiful that I particularly fix my eyes. I observed the
well-grown ears of the hare; it is a pleasure to me to observe how
long they are. It seemed as if I saw myself again in the days of my
childhood; and so I voted for the hare. "

"Buz," said the fly; "there, I'm not going to make a long
speech; but I wish to say something about hares. I have really
overtaken more than one hare, when I have been seated on the engine in
front of a railway train. I often do so. One can then so easily
judge of one's own swiftness. Not long ago, I crushed the hind legs of
a young hare. He had been running a long time before the engine; he
had no idea that I was travelling there. At last he had to stop in his
career, and the engine ran over his hind legs, and crushed them; for I
set upon it. I left him lying there, and rode on farther. I call
that conquering him; but I do not want the prize. "

"It really seems to me," thought the wild rose, though she did not
express her opinion aloud--it is not in her nature to do so,--though
it would have been quite as well if she had; "it certainly seems to me
that the sunbeam ought to have had the honor of receiving the first
prize. The sunbeam flies in a few minutes along the immeasurable
path from the sun to us. It arrives in such strength, that all
nature awakes to loveliness and beauty; we roses blush and exhale
fragrance in its presence. Our worshipful judges don't appear to
have noticed this at all. Were I the sunbeam, I would give each one of
them a sun stroke; but that would only make them mad, and they are mad
enough already. I only hope," continued the rose, "that peace may
reign in the wood. It is glorious to bloom, to be fragrant, and to
live; to live in story and in song. The sunbeam will outlive us all. "

"What is the first prize? " asked the earthworm, who had
overslept the time, and only now came up.
"It contains a free admission to a cabbage-garden," replied the
mule. "I proposed that as one of the prizes. The hare most decidedly
must have it; and I, as an active and thoughtful member of the
committee, took especial care that the prize should be one of
advantage to him; so now he is provided for. The snail can now sit
on the fence, and lick up moss and sunshine. He has also been
appointed one of the first judges of swiftness in racing. It is
worth much to know that one of the numbers is a man of talent in the
thing men call a 'committee. ' I must say I expect much in the
future; we have already made such a good beginning. "




THE RED SHOES

Once upon a time there was little girl, pretty and dainty. But
in summer time she was obliged to go barefooted because she was
poor, and in winter she had to wear large wooden shoes, so that her
little instep grew quite red.

In the middle of the village lived an old shoemaker's wife; she
sat down and made, as well as she could, a pair of little shoes out of
some old pieces of red cloth. They were clumsy, but she meant well,
for they were intended for the little girl, whose name was Karen.

Karen received the shoes and wore them for the first time on the
day of her mother's funeral. They were certainly not suitable for
mourning; but she had no others, and so she put her bare feet into
them and walked behind the humble coffin.

Just then a large old carriage came by, and in it sat an old lady;
she looked at the little girl, and taking pity on her, said to the
clergyman, "Look here, if you will give me the little girl, I will
take care of her. "

Karen believed that this was all on account of the red shoes,
but the old lady thought them hideous, and so they were burnt. Karen
herself was dressed very neatly and cleanly; she was taught to read
and to sew, and people said that she was pretty. But the mirror told
her, "You are more than pretty--you are beautiful. "

One day the Queen was travelling through that part of the country,
and had her little daughter, who was a princess, with her. All the
people, amongst them Karen too, streamed towards the castle, where the
little princess, in fine white clothes, stood before the window and
allowed herself to be stared at. She wore neither a train nor a golden
crown, but beautiful red morocco shoes; they were indeed much finer
than those which the shoemaker's wife had sewn for little Karen. There
is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!

Karen was now old enough to be confirmed; she received some new
clothes, and she was also to have some new shoes. The rich shoemaker
in the town took the measure of her little foot in his own room, in
which there stood great glass cases full of pretty shoes and white
slippers. It all looked very lovely, but the old lady could not see
very well, and therefore did not get much pleasure out of it.
Amongst the shoes stood a pair of red ones, like those which the
princess had worn. How beautiful they were! and the shoemaker said
that they had been made for a count's daughter, but that they had
not fitted her.

"I suppose they are of shiny leather? " asked the old lady. "They
shine so. "

"Yes, they do shine," said Karen. They fitted her, and were
bought. But the old lady knew nothing of their being red, for she
would never have allowed Karen to be confirmed in red shoes, as she
was now to be.

Everybody looked at her feet, and the whole of the way from the
church door to the choir it seemed to her as if even the ancient
figures on the monuments, in their stiff collars and long black robes,
had their eyes fixed on her red shoes. It was only of these that she
thought when the clergyman laid his hand upon her head and spoke of
the holy baptism, of the covenant with God, and told her that she
was now to be a grown-up Christian. The organ pealed forth solemnly,
and the sweet children's voices mingled with that of their old leader;
but Karen thought only of her red shoes. In the afternoon the old lady
heard from everybody that Karen had worn red shoes. She said that it
was a shocking thing to do, that it was very improper, and that
Karen was always to go to church in future in black shoes, even if
they were old.

On the following Sunday there was Communion. Karen looked first at
the black shoes, then at the red ones--looked at the red ones again,
and put them on.

The sun was shining gloriously, so Karen and the old lady went
along the footpath through the corn, where it was rather dusty.

At the church door stood an old crippled soldier leaning on a
crutch; he had a wonderfully long beard, more red than white, and he
bowed down to the ground and asked the old lady whether he might
wipe her shoes. Then Karen put out her little foot too. "Dear me, what
pretty dancing-shoes! " said the soldier. "Sit fast, when you dance,"
said he, addressing the shoes, and slapping the soles with his hand.

The old lady gave the soldier some money and then went with
Karen into the church.

And all the people inside looked at Karen's red shoes, and all the
figures gazed at them; when Karen knelt before the altar and put the
golden goblet to her mouth, she thought only of the red shoes. It
seemed to her as though they were swimming about in the goblet, and
she forgot to sing the psalm, forgot to say the "Lord's Prayer. "

Now every one came out of church, and the old lady stepped into
her carriage. But just as Karen was lifting up her foot to get in too,
the old soldier said: "Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes! " and
Karen could not help it, she was obliged to dance a few steps; and
when she had once begun, her legs continued to dance. It seemed as
if the shoes had got power over them. She danced round the church
corner, for she could not stop; the coachman had to run after her
and seize her. He lifted her into the carriage, but her feet continued
to dance, so that she kicked the good old lady violently. At last they
took off her shoes, and her legs were at rest.

At home the shoes were put into the cupboard, but Karen could
not help looking at them.

Now the old lady fell ill, and it was said that she would not rise
from her bed again. She had to be nursed and waited upon, and this was
no one's duty more than Karen's. But there was a grand ball in the
town, and Karen was invited. She looked at the red shoes, saying to
herself that there was no sin in doing that; she put the red shoes on,
thinking there was no harm in that either; and then she went to the
ball; and commenced to dance.

But when she wanted to go to the right, the shoes danced to the
left, and when she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced
down the room, down the stairs through the street, and out through the
gates of the town. She danced, and was obliged to dance, far out
into the dark wood. Suddenly something shone up among the trees, and
she believed it was the moon, for it was a face. But it was the old
soldier with the red beard; he sat there nodding his head and said:
"Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes! "

She was frightened, and wanted to throw the red shoes away; but
they stuck fast. She tore off her stockings, but the shoes had grown
fast to her feet. She danced and was obliged to go on dancing over
field and meadow, in rain and sunshine, by night and by day--but by
night it was most horrible.

She danced out into the open churchyard; but the dead there did
not dance. They had something better to do than that. She wanted to
sit down on the pauper's grave where the bitter fern grows; but for
her there was neither peace nor rest. And as she danced past the
open church door she saw an angel there in long white robes, with
wings reaching from his shoulders down to the earth; his face was
stern and grave, and in his hand he held a broad shining sword.

"Dance you shall," said he, "dance in your red shoes till you
are pale and cold, till your skin shrivels up and you are a
skeleton! Dance you shall, from door to door, and where proud and
wicked children live you shall knock, so that they may hear you and
fear you! Dance you shall, dance--! "

"Mercy! " cried Karen. But she did not hear what the angel
answered, for the shoes carried her through the gate into the
fields, along highways and byways, and unceasingly she had to dance.

One morning she danced past a door that she knew well; they were
singing a psalm inside, and a coffin was being carried out covered
with flowers. Then she knew that she was forsaken by every one and
damned by the angel of God.

She danced, and was obliged to go on dancing through the dark
night. The shoes bore her away over thorns and stumps till she was all
torn and bleeding; she danced away over the heath to a lonely little
house. Here, she knew, lived the executioner; and she tapped with
her finger at the window and said:

"Come out, come out! I cannot come in, for I must dance. "

And the executioner said: "I don't suppose you know who I am. I
strike off the heads of the wicked, and I notice that my axe is
tingling to do so. "

"Don't cut off my head! " said Karen, "for then I could not
repent of my sin. But cut off my feet with the red shoes. "

And then she confessed all her sin, and the executioner struck off
her feet with the red shoes; but the shoes danced away with the little
feet across the field into the deep forest.

And he carved her a pair of wooden feet and some crutches, and
taught her a psalm which is always sung by sinners; she kissed the
hand that guided the axe, and went away over the heath.

"Now, I have suffered enough for the red shoes," she said; "I will
go to church, so that people can see me. " And she went quickly up to
the church-door; but when she came there, the red shoes were dancing
before her, and she was frightened, and turned back.

During the whole week she was sad and wept many bitter tears,
but when Sunday came again she said: "Now I have suffered and
striven enough. I believe I am quite as good as many of those who
sit in church and give themselves airs. " And so she went boldly on;
but she had not got farther than the churchyard gate when she saw
the red shoes dancing along before her. Then she became terrified, and
turned back and repented right heartily of her sin.

She went to the parsonage, and begged that she might be taken into
service there. She would be industrious, she said, and do everything
that she could; she did not mind about the wages as long as she had
a roof over her, and was with good people. The pastor's wife had
pity on her, and took her into service. And she was industrious and
thoughtful. She sat quiet and listened when the pastor read aloud from
the Bible in the evening. All the children liked her very much, but
when they spoke about dress and grandeur and beauty she would shake
her head.

On the following Sunday they all went to church, and she was asked
whether she wished to go too; but, with tears in her eyes, she
looked sadly at her crutches. And then the others went to hear God's
Word, but she went alone into her little room; this was only large
enough to hold the bed and a chair. Here she sat down with her
hymn-book, and as she was reading it with a pious mind, the wind
carried the notes of the organ over to her from the church, and in
tears she lifted up her face and said: "O God! help me! "

Then the sun shone so brightly, and right before her stood an
angel of God in white robes; it was the same one whom she had seen
that night at the church-door. He no longer carried the sharp sword,
but a beautiful green branch, full of roses; with this he touched
the ceiling, which rose up very high, and where he had touched it
there shone a golden star. He touched the walls, which opened wide
apart, and she saw the organ which was pealing forth; she saw the
pictures of the old pastors and their wives, and the congregation
sitting in the polished chairs and singing from their hymn-books.
The church itself had come to the poor girl in her narrow room, or the
room had gone to the church. She sat in the pew with the rest of the
pastor's household, and when they had finished the hymn and looked up,
they nodded and said, "It was right of you to come, Karen. "

"It was mercy," said she.

The organ played and the children's voices in the choir sounded
soft and lovely. The bright warm sunshine streamed through the
window into the pew where Karen sat, and her heart became so filled
with it, so filled with peace and joy, that it broke. Her soul flew on
the sunbeams to Heaven, and no one was there who asked after the Red
Shoes.




EVERYTHING IN THE RIGHT PLACE

It is more than a hundred years ago! At the border of the wood,
near a large lake, stood the old mansion: deep ditches surrounded it
on every side, in which reeds and bulrushes grew. Close by the
drawbridge, near the gate, there was an old willow tree, which bent
over the reeds.

From the narrow pass came the sound of bugles and the trampling of
horses' feet; therefore a little girl who was watching the geese
hastened to drive them away from the bridge, before the whole
hunting party came galloping up; they came, however, so quickly,
that the girl, in order to avoid being run over, placed herself on one
of the high corner-stones of the bridge. She was still half a child
and very delicately built; she had bright blue eyes, and a gentle,
sweet expression. But such things the baron did not notice; while he
was riding past the little goose-girl, he reversed his hunting crop,
and in rough play gave her such a push with it that she fell
backward into the ditch.

"Everything in the right place! " he cried. "Into the ditch with
you. "

Then he burst out laughing, for that he called fun; the others
joined in--the whole party shouted and cried, while the hounds barked.

While the poor girl was falling she happily caught one of the
branches of the willow tree, by the help of which she held herself
over the water, and as soon as the baron with his company and the dogs
had disappeared through the gate, the girl endeavoured to scramble up,
but the branch broke off, and she would have fallen backward among the
rushes, had not a strong hand from above seized her at this moment. It
was the hand of a pedlar; he had witnessed what had happened from a
short distance, and now hastened to assist her.

"Everything in the right place," he said, imitating the noble
baron, and pulling the little maid up to the dry ground. He wished
to put the branch back in the place it had been broken off, but it
is not possible to put everything in the right place; therefore he
stuck the branch into the soft ground.

"Grow and thrive if you can, and produce a good flute for them
yonder at the mansion," he said; it would have given him great
pleasure to see the noble baron and his companions well thrashed. Then
he entered the castle--but not the banqueting hall; he was too
humble for that. No; he went to the servants' hall. The men-servants
and maids looked over his stock of articles and bargained with him;
loud crying and screaming were heard from the master's table above:
they called it singing--indeed, they did their best. Laughter and
the howls of dogs were heard through the open windows: there they were
feasting and revelling; wine and strong old ale were foaming in the
glasses and jugs; the favourite dogs ate with their masters; now and
then the squires kissed one of these animals, after having wiped its
mouth first with the tablecloth. They ordered the pedlar to come up,
but only to make fun of him. The wine had got into their heads, and
reason had left them. They poured beer into a stocking that he could
drink with them, but quick. That's what they called fun, and it made
them laugh. Then meadows, peasants, and farmyards were staked on one
card and lost.

"Everything in the right place! " the pedlar said when he had at
last safely got out of Sodom and Gomorrah, as he called it. "The
open high road is my right place; up there I did not feel at ease. "

The little maid, who was still watching the geese, nodded kindly
to him as he passed through the gate.

Days and weeks passed, and it was seen that the broken
willow-branch which the peddlar had stuck into the ground near the
ditch remained fresh and green--nay, it even put forth fresh twigs;
the little goose-girl saw that the branch had taken root, and was very
pleased; the tree, so she said, was now her tree. While the tree was
advancing, everything else at the castle was going backward, through
feasting and gambling, for these are two rollers upon which nobody
stands safely. Less than six years afterwards the baron passed out
of his castle-gate a poor beggar, while the baronial seat had been
bought by a rich tradesman. He was the very pedlar they had made fun
of and poured beer into a stocking for him to drink; but honesty and
industry bring one forward, and now the pedlar was the possessor of
the baronial estate. From that time forward no card-playing was
permitted there.

"That's a bad pastime," he said; "when the devil saw the Bible for
the first time he wanted to produce a caricature in opposition to
it, and invented card-playing. "

The new proprietor of the estate took a wife, and whom did he
take? --The little goose-girl, who had always remained good and kind,
and who looked as beautiful in her new clothes as if she had been a
lady of high birth. And how did all this come about? That would be too
long a tale to tell in our busy time, but it really happened, and
the most important events have yet to be told.

It was pleasant and cheerful to live in the old place now: the
mother superintended the household, and the father looked after things
out-of-doors, and they were indeed very prosperous.

Where honesty leads the way, prosperity is sure to follow. The old
mansion was repaired and painted, the ditches were cleaned and
fruit-trees planted; all was homely and pleasant, and the floors
were as white and shining as a pasteboard. In the long winter evenings
the mistress and her maids sat at the spinning-wheel in the large
hall; every Sunday the counsellor--this title the pedlar had obtained,
although only in his old days--read aloud a portion from the Bible.
The children (for they had children) all received the best
education, but they were not all equally clever, as is the case in all
families.

In the meantime the willow tree near the drawbridge had grown up
into a splendid tree, and stood there, free, and was never clipped.
"It is our genealogical tree," said the old people to their
children, "and therefore it must be honoured. "

A hundred years had elapsed. It was in our own days; the lake
had been transformed into marsh land; the whole baronial seat had,
as it were, disappeared. A pool of water near some ruined walls was
the only remainder of the deep ditches; and here stood a magnificent
old tree with overhanging branches--that was the genealogical tree.
Here it stood, and showed how beautiful a willow can look if one
does not interfere with it. The trunk, it is true, was cleft in the
middle from the root to the crown; the storms had bent it a little,
but it still stood there, and out of every crevice and cleft, in which
wind and weather had carried mould, blades of grass and flowers sprang
forth. Especially above, where the large boughs parted, there was
quite a hanging garden, in which wild raspberries and hart's-tongue
ferns throve, and even a little mistletoe had taken root, and grew
gracefully in the old willow branches, which were reflected in the
dark water beneath when the wind blew the chickweed into the corner of
the pool. A footpath which led across the fields passed close by the
old tree. High up, on the woody hillside, stood the new mansion. It
had a splendid view, and was large and magnificent; its window panes
were so clear that one might have thought there were none there at
all. The large flight of steps which led to the entrance looked like a
bower covered with roses and broad-leaved plants. The lawn was as
green as if each blade of grass was cleaned separately morning and
evening. Inside, in the hall, valuable oil paintings were hanging on
the walls. Here stood chairs and sofas covered with silk and velvet,
which could be easily rolled about on castors; there were tables
with polished marble tops, and books bound in morocco with gilt edges.
Indeed, well-to-do and distinguished people lived here; it was the
dwelling of the baron and his family. Each article was in keeping with
its surroundings. "Everything in the right place" was the motto
according to which they also acted here, and therefore all the
paintings which had once been the honour and glory of the old
mansion were now hung up in the passage which led to the servants'
rooms. It was all old lumber, especially two portraits--one
representing a man in a scarlet coat with a wig, and the other a
lady with powdered and curled hair holding a rose in her hand, each of
them being surrounded by a large wreath of willow branches. Both
portraits had many holes in them, because the baron's sons used the
two old people as targets for their crossbows. They represented the
counsellor and his wife, from whom the whole family descended. "But
they did not properly belong to our family," said one of the boys; "he
was a pedlar and she kept the geese. They were not like papa and
mamma. " The portraits were old lumber, and "everything in its right
place. " That was why the great-grandparents had been hung up in the
passage leading to the servants' rooms.

The son of the village pastor was tutor at the mansion. One day he
went for a walk across the fields with his young pupils and their
elder sister, who had lately been confirmed. They walked along the
road which passed by the old willow tree, and while they were on the
road she picked a bunch of field-flowers. "Everything in the right
place," and indeed the bunch looked very beautiful. At the same time
she listened to all that was said, and she very much liked to hear the
pastor's son speak about the elements and of the great men and women
in history. She had a healthy mind, noble in thought and deed, and
with a heart full of love for everything that God had created. They
stopped at the old willow tree, as the youngest of the baron's sons
wished very much to have a flute from it, such as had been cut for him
from other willow trees; the pastor's son broke a branch off. "Oh,
pray do not do it! " said the young lady; but it was already done.
"That is our famous old tree. I love it very much. They often laugh at
me at home about it, but that does not matter. There is a story
attached to this tree. " And now she told him all that we already
know about the tree--the old mansion, the pedlar and the goose-girl
who had met there for the first time, and had become the ancestors
of the noble family to which the young lady belonged.

"They did not like to be knighted, the good old people," she said;
"their motto was 'everything in the right place,' and it would not
be right, they thought, to purchase a title for money. My grandfather,
the first baron, was their son. They say he was a very learned man,
a great favourite with the princes and princesses, and was invited
to all court festivities.