No More Learning

"

It was very quickly known among the inhabitants of the town that
another suitor had arrived for the princess, and there was great
sorrow in consequence. The theatre remained closed, the women who sold
sweetmeats tied crape round the sugar-sticks, and the king and the
priests were on their knees in the church. There was a great
lamentation, for no one expected John to succeed better than those who
had been suitors before.

In the evening John's comrade prepared a large bowl of punch,
and said, "Now let us be merry, and drink to the health of the
princess. " But after drinking two glasses, John became so sleepy, that
he could not keep his eyes open, and fell fast asleep. Then his
fellow-traveller lifted him gently out of his chair, and laid him on
the bed; and as soon as it was quite dark, he took the two large wings
which he had cut from the dead swan, and tied them firmly to his own
shoulders. Then he put into his pocket the largest of the three rods
which he had obtained from the old woman who had fallen and broken her
leg. After this he opened the window, and flew away over the town,
straight towards the palace, and seated himself in a corner, under the
window which looked into the bedroom of the princess.

The town was perfectly still when the clocks struck a quarter to
twelve. Presently the window opened, and the princess, who had large
black wings to her shoulders, and a long white mantle, flew away
over the city towards a high mountain. The fellow-traveller, who had
made himself invisible, so that she could not possibly see him, flew
after her through the air, and whipped the princess with his rod, so
that the blood came whenever he struck her. Ah, it was a strange
flight through the air! The wind caught her mantle, so that it
spread out on all sides, like the large sail of a ship, and the moon
shone through it. "How it hails, to be sure! " said the princess, at
each blow she received from the rod; and it served her right to be
whipped.

At last she reached the side of the mountain, and knocked. The
mountain opened with a noise like the roll of thunder, and the
princess went in. The traveller followed her; no one could see him, as
he had made himself invisible. They went through a long, wide passage.
A thousand gleaming spiders ran here and there on the walls, causing
them to glitter as if they were illuminated with fire. They next
entered a large hall built of silver and gold. Large red and blue
flowers shone on the walls, looking like sunflowers in size, but no
one could dare to pluck them, for the stems were hideous poisonous
snakes, and the flowers were flames of fire, darting out of their
jaws. Shining glow-worms covered the ceiling, and sky-blue bats
flapped their transparent wings. Altogether the place had a
frightful appearance. In the middle of the floor stood a throne
supported by four skeleton horses, whose harness had been made by
fiery-red spiders. The throne itself was made of milk-white glass, and
the cushions were little black mice, each biting the other's tail.
Over it hung a canopy of rose-colored spider's webs, spotted with
the prettiest little green flies, which sparkled like precious stones.
On the throne sat an old magician with a crown on his ugly head, and a
sceptre in his hand. He kissed the princess on the forehead, seated
her by his side on the splendid throne, and then the music
commenced. Great black grasshoppers played the mouth organ, and the
owl struck herself on the body instead of a drum. It was altogether
a ridiculous concert. Little black goblins with false lights in
their caps danced about the hall; but no one could see the
traveller, and he had placed himself just behind the throne where he
could see and hear everything. The courtiers who came in afterwards
looked noble and grand; but any one with common sense could see what
they really were, only broomsticks, with cabbages for heads. The
magician had given them life, and dressed them in embroidered robes.
It answered very well, as they were only wanted for show. After
there had been a little dancing, the princess told the magician that
she had a new suitor, and asked him what she could think of for the
suitor to guess when he came to the castle the next morning.

"Listen to what I say," said the magician, "you must choose
something very easy, he is less likely to guess it then. Think of
one of your shoes, he will never imagine it is that. Then cut his head
off; and mind you do not forget to bring his eyes with you to-morrow
night, that I may eat them. "

The princess curtsied low, and said she would not forget the eyes.

The magician then opened the mountain and she flew home again, but
the traveller followed and flogged her so much with the rod, that
she sighed quite deeply about the heavy hail-storm, and made as much
haste as she could to get back to her bedroom through the window.
The traveller then returned to the inn where John still slept, took
off his wings and laid down on the bed, for he was very tired. Early
in the morning John awoke, and when his fellow-traveller got up, he
said that he had a very wonderful dream about the princess and her
shoe, he therefore advised John to ask her if she had not thought of
her shoe. Of course the traveller knew this from what the magician
in the mountain had said.

"I may as well say that as anything," said John. "Perhaps your
dream may come true; still I will say farewell, for if I guess wrong I
shall never see you again. "

Then they embraced each other, and John went into the town and
walked to the palace. The great hall was full of people, and the
judges sat in arm-chairs, with eider-down cushions to rest their heads
upon, because they had so much to think of. The old king stood near,
wiping his eyes with his white pocket-handkerchief. When the
princess entered, she looked even more beautiful than she had appeared
the day before, and greeted every one present most gracefully; but
to John she gave her hand, and said, "Good morning to you. "

Now came the time for John to guess what she was thinking of;
and oh, how kindly she looked at him as she spoke. But when he uttered
the single word shoe, she turned as pale as a ghost; all her wisdom
could not help her, for he had guessed rightly. Oh, how pleased the
old king was! It was quite amusing to see how he capered about. All
the people clapped their hands, both on his account and John's, who
had guessed rightly the first time. His fellow-traveller was glad
also, when he heard how successful John had been. But John folded
his hands, and thanked God, who, he felt quite sure, would help him
again; and he knew he had to guess twice more. The evening passed
pleasantly like the one preceding. While John slept, his companion
flew behind the princess to the mountain, and flogged her even
harder than before; this time he had taken two rods with him. No one
saw him go in with her, and he heard all that was said. The princess
this time was to think of a glove, and he told John as if he had again
heard it in a dream. The next day, therefore, he was able to guess
correctly the second time, and it caused great rejoicing at the
palace. The whole court jumped about as they had seen the king do
the day before, but the princess lay on the sofa, and would not say
a single word. All now depended upon John. If he only guessed
rightly the third time, he would marry the princess, and reign over
the kingdom after the death of the old king: but if he failed, he
would lose his life, and the magician would have his beautiful blue
eyes. That evening John said his prayers and went to bed very early,
and soon fell asleep calmly. But his companion tied on his wings to
his shoulders, took three rods, and, with his sword at his side,
flew to the palace. It was a very dark night, and so stormy that the
tiles flew from the roofs of the houses, and the trees in the garden
upon which the skeletons hung bent themselves like reeds before the
wind. The lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled in one
long-continued peal all night. The window of the castle opened, and
the princess flew out. She was pale as death, but she laughed at the
storm as if it were not bad enough. Her white mantle fluttered in
the wind like a large sail, and the traveller flogged her with the
three rods till the blood trickled down, and at last she could
scarcely fly; she contrived, however, to reach the mountain. "What a
hail-storm! " she said, as she entered; "I have never been out in
such weather as this. "

"Yes, there may be too much of a good thing sometimes," said the
magician.

Then the princess told him that John had guessed rightly the
second time, and if he succeeded the next morning, he would win, and
she could never come to the mountain again, or practice magic as she
had done, and therefore she was quite unhappy. "I will find out
something for you to think of which he will never guess, unless he
is a greater conjuror than myself. But now let us be merry. "

Then he took the princess by both hands, and they danced with
all the little goblins and Jack-o'-lanterns in the room. The red
spiders sprang here and there on the walls quite as merrily, and the
flowers of fire appeared as if they were throwing out sparks. The
owl beat the drum, the crickets whistled and the grasshoppers played
the mouth-organ. It was a very ridiculous ball. After they had
danced enough, the princess was obliged to go home, for fear she
should be missed at the palace. The magician offered to go with her,
that they might be company to each other on the way. Then they flew
away through the bad weather, and the traveller followed them, and
broke his three rods across their shoulders. The magician had never
been out in such a hail-storm as this. Just by the palace the magician
stopped to wish the princess farewell, and to whisper in her ear,
"To-morrow think of my head. "

But the traveller heard it, and just as the princess slipped
through the window into her bedroom, and the magician turned round
to fly back to the mountain, he seized him by the long black beard,
and with his sabre cut off the wicked conjuror's head just behind
the shoulders, so that he could not even see who it was. He threw
the body into the sea to the fishes, and after dipping the head into
the water, he tied it up in a silk handkerchief, took it with him to
the inn, and then went to bed. The next morning he gave John the
handkerchief, and told him not to untie it till the princess asked him
what she was thinking of. There were so many people in the great
hall of the palace that they stood as thick as radishes tied
together in a bundle. The council sat in their arm-chairs with the
white cushions. The old king wore new robes, and the golden crown
and sceptre had been polished up so that he looked quite smart. But
the princess was very pale, and wore a black dress as if she were
going to a funeral.

"What have I thought of? " asked the princess, of John. He
immediately untied the handkerchief, and was himself quite
frightened when he saw the head of the ugly magician. Every one
shuddered, for it was terrible to look at; but the princess sat like a
statue, and could not utter a single word. At length she rose and gave
John her hand, for he had guessed rightly.

She looked at no one, but sighed deeply, and said, "You are my
master now; this evening our marriage must take place. "

"I am very pleased to hear it," said the old king. "It is just
what I wish. "

Then all the people shouted "Hurrah. " The band played music in the
streets, the bells rang, and the cake-women took the black crape off
the sugar-sticks. There was universal joy. Three oxen, stuffed with
ducks and chickens, were roasted whole in the market-place, where
every one might help himself to a slice. The fountains spouted forth
the most delicious wine, and whoever bought a penny loaf at the
baker's received six large buns, full of raisins, as a present. In the
evening the whole town was illuminated. The soldiers fired off
cannons, and the boys let off crackers. There was eating and drinking,
dancing and jumping everywhere. In the palace, the high-born gentlemen
and beautiful ladies danced with each other, and they could be heard
at a great distance singing the following song:--

"Here are maidens, young and fair,
Dancing in the summer air;
Like two spinning-wheels at play,
Pretty maidens dance away--
Dance the spring and summer through
Till the sole falls from your shoe. "


But the princess was still a witch, and she could not love John.
His fellow-traveller had thought of that, so he gave John three
feathers out of the swan's wings, and a little bottle with a few drops
in it. He told him to place a large bath full of water by the
princess's bed, and put the feathers and the drops into it. Then, at
the moment she was about to get into bed, he must give her a little
push, so that she might fall into the water, and then dip her three
times. This would destroy the power of the magician, and she would
love him very much. John did all that his companion told him to do.
The princess shrieked aloud when he dipped her under the water the
first time, and struggled under his hands in the form of a great black
swan with fiery eyes. As she rose the second time from the water,
the swan had become white, with a black ring round its neck. John
allowed the water to close once more over the bird, and at the same
time it changed into a most beautiful princess. She was more lovely
even than before, and thanked him, while her eyes sparkled with tears,
for having broken the spell of the magician. The next day, the king
came with the whole court to offer their congratulations, and stayed
till quite late. Last of all came the travelling companion; he had his
staff in his hand and his knapsack on his back. John kissed him many
times and told him he must not go, he must remain with him, for he was
the cause of all his good fortune. But the traveller shook his head,
and said gently and kindly, "No: my time is up now; I have only paid
my debt to you. Do you remember the dead man whom the bad people
wished to throw out of his coffin? You gave all you possessed that
he might rest in his grave; I am that man. " As he said this, he
vanished.

The wedding festivities lasted a whole month. John and his
princess loved each other dearly, and the old king lived to see many a
happy day, when he took their little children on his knees and let
them play with his sceptre. And John became king over the whole
country.




TWO BROTHERS

On one of the Danish islands, where old Thingstones, the seats
of justice of our forefathers, still stand in the cornfields, and huge
trees rise in the forests of beech, there lies a little town whose low
houses are covered with red tiles. In one of these houses strange
things were brewing over the glowing coals on the open hearth; there
was a boiling going on in glasses, and a mixing and distilling,
while herbs were being cut up and pounded in mortars. An elderly man
looked after it all.

"One must only do the right thing," he said; "yes, the right--the
correct thing. One must find out the truth concerning every
created particle, and keep to that. "

In the room with the good housewife sat her two sons; they were
still small, but had great thoughts. Their mother, too, had always
spoken to them of right and justice, and exhorted them to keep to
the truth, which she said was the countenance of the Lord in this
world.

The elder of the boys looked roguish and enterprising. He took a
delight in reading of the forces of nature, of the sun and the moon;
no fairy tale pleased him so much. Oh, how beautiful it must be, he
thought, to go on voyages of discovery, or to find out how to
imitate the wings of birds and then to be able to fly! Yes, to find
that out was the right thing. Father was right, and mother was
right--truth holds the world together.

The younger brother was quieter, and buried himself entirely in
his books. When he read about Jacob dressing himself in sheep-skins to
personify Esau, and so to usurp his brother's birthright, he would
clench his little fist in anger against the deceiver; when he read
of tyrants and of the injustice and wickedness of the world, tears
would come into his eyes, and he was quite filled with the thought
of the justice and truth which must and would triumph.

One evening he was lying in bed, but the curtains were not yet
drawn close, and the light streamed in upon him; he had taken his book
into bed with him, for he wanted to finish reading the story of Solon.
His thoughts lifted and carried him away a wonderful distance; it
seemed to him as if the bed had become a ship flying along under
full sail. Was he dreaming, or what was happening? It glided over
the rolling waves and across the ocean of time, and to him came the
voice of Solon; spoken in a strange tongue, yet intelligible to him,
he heard the Danish motto: "By law the land is ruled. "

The genius of the human race stood in the humble room, bent down
over the bed and imprinted a kiss on the boy's forehead: "Be thou
strong in fame and strong in the battle of life! With truth in thy
heart fly toward the land of truth! "

The elder brother was not yet in bed; he was standing at the
window looking out at the mist which rose from the meadows. They
were not elves dancing out there, as their old nurse had told him;
he knew better--they were vapours which were warmer than the air,
and that is why they rose. A shooting star lit up the sky, and the
boy's thoughts passed in a second from the vapours of the earth up
to the shining meteor. The stars gleamed in the heavens, and it seemed
as if long golden threads hung down from them to the earth.

"Fly with me," sang a voice, which the boy heard in his heart. And
the mighty genius of mankind, swifter than a bird and than an
arrow--swifter than anything of earthly origin--carried him out into
space, where the heavenly bodies are bound together by the rays that
pass from star to star. Our earth revolved in the thin air, and the
cities upon it seemed to lie close to each other. Through the
spheres echoed the words:

"What is near, what is far, when thou art lifted by the mighty
genius of mind? "

And again the boy stood by the window, gazing out, whilst his
younger brother lay in bed. Their mother called them by their names:
"Anders Sandoe" and "Hans Christian. "

Denmark and the whole world knows them--the two brothers Oersted.




TWO MAIDENS

Have you ever seen a maiden? I mean what our pavers call a maiden,
a thing with which they ram down the paving-stones in the roads. A
maiden of this kind is made altogether of wood, broad below, and
girt round with iron rings. At the top she is narrow, and has a
stick passed across through her waist, and this stick forms the arms
of the maiden.

In the shed stood two Maidens of this kind. They had their place
among shovels, hand-carts, wheelbarrows, and measuring-tapes; and to
all this company the news had come that the Maidens were no longer
to be called "maidens," but "hand-rammers," which word was the
newest and the only correct designation among the pavers for the thing
we all know from the old times by the name of "the maiden. "

Now, there are among us human creatures certain individuals who
are known as "emancipated women," as, for instance, principals of
institutions, dancers who stand professionally on one leg,
milliners, and sick-nurses; and with this class of emancipated women
the two Maidens in the shed associated themselves. They were "maidens"
among the paver folk, and determined not to give up this honorable
appellation, and let themselves be miscalled "rammers.

"Maiden is a human name, but hand-rammer is a thing, and we
won't be called things--that's insulting us. "

"My lover would be ready to give up his engagement," said the
youngest, who was betrothed to a paver's hammer; and the hammer is the
thing which drives great piles into the earth, like a machine, and
therefore does on a large scale what ten maidens effect in a similar
way. "He wants to marry me as a maiden, but whether he would have me
were I a hand-rammer is a question, so I won't have my name changed. "

"And I," said the elder one, "would rather have both my arms
broken off. "

But the Wheelbarrow was of a different opinion; and the
Wheelbarrow was looked upon as of some consequence, for he
considered himself a quarter of a coach, because he went about upon
one wheel.

"I must submit to your notice," he said, "that the name 'maiden'
is common enough, and not nearly so refined as 'hand-rammer,' or
'stamper,' which latter has also been proposed, and through which
you would be introduced into the category of seals; and only think
of the great stamp of state, which impresses the royal seal that gives
effect to the laws! No, in your case I would surrender my maiden
name. "

"No, certainly not! " exclaimed the elder. "I am too old for that. "

"I presume you have never heard of what is called 'European
necessity? '" observed the honest Measuring Tape. "One must be able
to adapt one's self to time and circumstances, and if there is a law
that the 'maiden' is to be called 'hand-rammer,' why, she must be
called 'hand-rammer,' and no pouting will avail, for everything has
its measure. "

"No; if there must be a change," said the younger, "I should
prefer to be called 'Missy,' for that reminds one a little of
maidens. "

"But I would rather be chopped to chips," said the elder.

At last they all went to work. The Maidens rode--that is, they
were put in a wheelbarrow, and that was a distinction; but still
they were called "hand-rammers. "

"Mai--! " they said, as they were bumped upon the pavement.
"Mai--! " and they were very nearly pronouncing the whole word "maiden;"
but they broke off short, and swallowed the last syllable; for after
mature deliberation they considered it beneath their dignity to
protest. But they always called each other "maiden," and praised the
good old days in which everything had been called by its right name,
and those who were maidens were called maidens. And they remained as
they were; for the hammer really broke off his engagement with the
younger one, for nothing would suit him but he must have a maiden
for his bride.




THE UGLY DUCKLING

It was lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden
corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked
beautiful. The stork walking about on his long red legs chattered in
the Egyptian language, which he had learnt from his mother. The
corn-fields and meadows were surrounded by large forests, in the midst
of which were deep pools. It was, indeed, delightful to walk about
in the country. In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farm-house
close by a deep river, and from the house down to the water side
grew great burdock leaves, so high, that under the tallest of them a
little child could stand upright. The spot was as wild as the centre
of a thick wood. In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest, watching
for her young brood to hatch; she was beginning to get tired of her
task, for the little ones were a long time coming out of their shells,
and she seldom had any visitors.
The other ducks liked much better
to swim about in the river than to climb the slippery banks, and sit
under a burdock leaf, to have a gossip with her. At length one shell
cracked, and then another, and from each egg came a living creature
that lifted its head and cried, "Peep, peep. " "Quack, quack," said the
mother, and then they all quacked as well as they could, and looked
about them on every side at the large green leaves. Their mother
allowed them to look as much as they liked, because green is good
for the eyes. "How large the world is," said the young ducks, when
they found how much more room they now had than while they were inside
the egg-shell. "Do you imagine this is the whole world? " asked the
mother; "Wait till you have seen the garden; it stretches far beyond
that to the parson's field, but I have never ventured to such a
distance. Are you all out? " she continued, rising; "No, I declare, the
largest egg lies there still. I wonder how long this is to last, I
am quite tired of it;" and she seated herself again on the nest.

"Well, how are you getting on? " asked an old duck, who paid her
a visit.

"One egg is not hatched yet," said the duck, "it will not break.
But just look at all the others, are they not the prettiest little
ducklings you ever saw? They are the image of their father, who is
so unkind, he never comes to see. "

"Let me see the egg that will not break," said the duck; "I have
no doubt it is a turkey's egg. I was persuaded to hatch some once, and
after all my care and trouble with the young ones, they were afraid of
the water. I quacked and clucked, but all to no purpose. I could not
get them to venture in. Let me look at the egg. Yes, that is a
turkey's egg; take my advice, leave it where it is and teach the other
children to swim. "

"I think I will sit on it a little while longer," said the duck;
"as I have sat so long already, a few days will be nothing. "

"Please yourself," said the old duck, and she went away.

At last the large egg broke, and a young one crept forth crying,
"Peep, peep. " It was very large and ugly. The duck stared at it and
exclaimed, "It is very large and not at all like the others. I
wonder if it really is a turkey. We shall soon find it out, however
when we go to the water. It must go in, if I have to push it myself. "

On the next day the weather was delightful, and the sun shone
brightly on the green burdock leaves, so the mother duck took her
young brood down to the water, and jumped in with a splash. "Quack,
quack," cried she, and one after another the little ducklings jumped
in. The water closed over their heads, but they came up again in an
instant, and swam about quite prettily with their legs paddling
under them as easily as possible, and the ugly duckling was also in
the water swimming with them.

"Oh," said the mother, "that is not a turkey; how well he uses his
legs, and how upright he holds himself! He is my own child, and he
is not so very ugly after all if you look at him properly. Quack,
quack! come with me now, I will take you into grand society, and
introduce you to the farmyard, but you must keep close to me or you
may be trodden upon; and, above all, beware of the cat. "

When they reached the farmyard, there was a great disturbance, two
families were fighting for an eel's head, which, after all, was
carried off by the cat. "See, children, that is the way of the world,"
said the mother duck, whetting her beak, for she would have liked
the eel's head herself. "Come, now, use your legs, and let me see
how well you can behave. You must bow your heads prettily to that
old duck yonder; she is the highest born of them all, and has
Spanish blood, therefore, she is well off. Don't you see she has a red
flag tied to her leg, which is something very grand, and a great honor
for a duck; it shows that every one is anxious not to lose her, as she
can be recognized both by man and beast. Come, now, don't turn your
toes, a well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart, just like
his father and mother, in this way; now bend your neck, and say
'quack. '"

The ducklings did as they were bid, but the other duck stared, and
said, "Look, here comes another brood, as if there were not enough
of us already! and what a queer looking object one of them is; we
don't want him here," and then one flew out and bit him in the neck.

"Let him alone," said the mother; "he is not doing any harm. "

"Yes, but he is so big and ugly," said the spiteful duck "and
therefore he must be turned out. "

"The others are very pretty children," said the old duck, with the
rag on her leg, "all but that one; I wish his mother could improve him
a little. "

"That is impossible, your grace," replied the mother; "he is not
pretty; but he has a very good disposition, and swims as well or
even better than the others. I think he will grow up pretty, and
perhaps be smaller; he has remained too long in the egg, and therefore
his figure is not properly formed;" and then she stroked his neck
and smoothed the feathers, saying, "It is a drake, and therefore not
of so much consequence. I think he will grow up strong, and able to
take care of himself. "

"The other ducklings are graceful enough," said the old duck. "Now
make yourself at home, and if you can find an eel's head, you can
bring it to me. "

And so they made themselves comfortable; but the poor duckling,
who had crept out of his shell last of all, and looked so ugly, was
bitten and pushed and made fun of, not only by the ducks, but by all
the poultry. "He is too big," they all said, and the turkey cock,
who had been born into the world with spurs, and fancied himself
really an emperor, puffed himself out like a vessel in full sail,
and flew at the duckling, and became quite red in the head with
passion, so that the poor little thing did not know where to go, and
was quite miserable because he was so ugly and laughed at by the whole
farmyard. So it went on from day to day till it got worse and worse.
The poor duckling was driven about by every one; even his brothers and
sisters were unkind to him, and would say, "Ah, you ugly creature, I
wish the cat would get you," and his mother said she wished he had
never been born. The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him, and
the girl who fed the poultry kicked him with her feet. So at last he
ran away, frightening the little birds in the hedge as he flew over
the palings.

"They are afraid of me because I am ugly," he said. So he closed
his eyes, and flew still farther, until he came out on a large moor,
inhabited by wild ducks. Here he remained the whole night, feeling
very tired and sorrowful.

In the morning, when the wild ducks rose in the air, they stared
at their new comrade. "What sort of a duck are you? " they all said,
coming round him.

He bowed to them, and was as polite as he could be, but he did not
reply to their question. "You are exceedingly ugly," said the wild
ducks, "but that will not matter if you do not want to marry one of
our family. "

Poor thing! he had no thoughts of marriage; all he wanted was
permission to lie among the rushes, and drink some of the water on the
moor. After he had been on the moor two days, there came two wild
geese, or rather goslings, for they had not been out of the egg
long, and were very saucy. "Listen, friend," said one of them to the
duckling, "you are so ugly, that we like you very well. Will you go
with us, and become a bird of passage? Not far from here is another
moor, in which there are some pretty wild geese, all unmarried. It
is a chance for you to get a wife; you may be lucky, ugly as you are. "

"Pop, pop," sounded in the air, and the two wild geese fell dead
among the rushes, and the water was tinged with blood. "Pop, pop,"
echoed far and wide in the distance, and whole flocks of wild geese
rose up from the rushes. The sound continued from every direction, for
the sportsmen surrounded the moor, and some were even seated on
branches of trees, overlooking the rushes. The blue smoke from the
guns rose like clouds over the dark trees, and as it floated away
across the water, a number of sporting dogs bounded in among the
rushes, which bent beneath them wherever they went. How they terrified
the poor duckling! He turned away his head to hide it under his
wing, and at the same moment a large terrible dog passed quite near
him. His jaws were open, his tongue hung from his mouth, and his
eyes glared fearfully. He thrust his nose close to the duckling,
showing his sharp teeth, and then, "splash, splash," he went into
the water without touching him, "Oh," sighed the duckling, "how
thankful I am for being so ugly; even a dog will not bite me. " And
so he lay quite still, while the shot rattled through the rushes,
and gun after gun was fired over him. It was late in the day before
all became quiet, but even then the poor young thing did not dare to
move. He waited quietly for several hours, and then, after looking
carefully around him, hastened away from the moor as fast as he could.
He ran over field and meadow till a storm arose, and he could hardly
struggle against it. Towards evening, he reached a poor little cottage
that seemed ready to fall, and only remained standing because it could
not decide on which side to fall first. The storm continued so
violent, that the duckling could go no farther; he sat down by the
cottage, and then he noticed that the door was not quite closed in
consequence of one of the hinges having given way. There was therefore
a narrow opening near the bottom large enough for him to slip through,
which he did very quietly, and got a shelter for the night. A woman, a
tom cat, and a hen lived in this cottage. The tom cat, whom the
mistress called, "My little son," was a great favorite; he could raise
his back, and purr, and could even throw out sparks from his fur if it
were stroked the wrong way. The hen had very short legs, so she was
called "Chickie short legs. " She laid good eggs, and her mistress
loved her as if she had been her own child. In the morning, the
strange visitor was discovered, and the tom cat began to purr, and the
hen to cluck.

"What is that noise about? " said the old woman, looking round
the room, but her sight was not very good; therefore, when she saw the
duckling she thought it must be a fat duck, that had strayed from
home. "Oh what a prize! " she exclaimed, "I hope it is not a drake, for
then I shall have some duck's eggs. I must wait and see. " So the
duckling was allowed to remain on trial for three weeks, but there
were no eggs. Now the tom cat was the master of the house, and the hen
was mistress, and they always said, "We and the world," for they
believed themselves to be half the world, and the better half too. The
duckling thought that others might hold a different opinion on the
subject, but the hen would not listen to such doubts. "Can you lay
eggs? " she asked. "No. " "Then have the goodness to hold your
tongue. " "Can you raise your back, or purr, or throw out sparks? " said
the tom cat. "No. " "Then you have no right to express an opinion
when sensible people are speaking. " So the duckling sat in a corner,
feeling very low spirited, till the sunshine and the fresh air came
into the room through the open door, and then he began to feel such
a great longing for a swim on the water, that he could not help
telling the hen.

"What an absurd idea," said the hen. "You have nothing else to do,
therefore you have foolish fancies. If you could purr or lay eggs,
they would pass away. "

"But it is so delightful to swim about on the water," said the
duckling, "and so refreshing to feel it close over your head, while
you dive down to the bottom. "

"Delightful, indeed! " said the hen, "why you must be crazy! Ask
the cat, he is the cleverest animal I know, ask him how he would
like to swim about on the water, or to dive under it, for I will not
speak of my own opinion; ask our mistress, the old woman--there is
no one in the world more clever than she is. Do you think she would
like to swim, or to let the water close over her head? "

"You don't understand me," said the duckling.

"We don't understand you? Who can understand you, I wonder? Do you
consider yourself more clever than the cat, or the old woman? I will
say nothing of myself. Don't imagine such nonsense, child, and thank
your good fortune that you have been received here. Are you not in a
warm room, and in society from which you may learn something. But
you are a chatterer, and your company is not very agreeable. Believe
me, I speak only for your own good. I may tell you unpleasant
truths, but that is a proof of my friendship. I advise you, therefore,
to lay eggs, and learn to purr as quickly as possible. "

"I believe I must go out into the world again," said the duckling.

"Yes, do," said the hen. So the duckling left the cottage, and
soon found water on which it could swim and dive, but was avoided by
all other animals, because of its ugly appearance. Autumn came, and
the leaves in the forest turned to orange and gold. Then, as winter
approached, the wind caught them as they fell and whirled them in
the cold air. The clouds, heavy with hail and snow-flakes, hung low in
the sky, and the raven stood on the ferns crying, "Croak, croak. " It
made one shiver with cold to look at him. All this was very sad for
the poor little duckling. One evening, just as the sun set amid
radiant clouds, there came a large flock of beautiful birds out of the
bushes. The duckling had never seen any like them before. They were
swans, and they curved their graceful necks, while their soft
plumage shown with dazzling whiteness. They uttered a singular cry, as
they spread their glorious wings and flew away from those cold regions
to warmer countries across the sea. As they mounted higher and
higher in the air, the ugly little duckling felt quite a strange
sensation as he watched them. He whirled himself in the water like a
wheel, stretched out his neck towards them, and uttered a cry so
strange that it frightened himself. Could he ever forget those
beautiful, happy birds; and when at last they were out of his sight,
he dived under the water, and rose again almost beside himself with
excitement. He knew not the names of these birds, nor where they had
flown, but he felt towards them as he had never felt for any other
bird in the world. He was not envious of these beautiful creatures,
but wished to be as lovely as they. Poor ugly creature, how gladly
he would have lived even with the ducks had they only given him
encouragement. The winter grew colder and colder; he was obliged to
swim about on the water to keep it from freezing, but every night
the space on which he swam became smaller and smaller. At length it
froze so hard that the ice in the water crackled as he moved, and
the duckling had to paddle with his legs as well as he could, to
keep the space from closing up. He became exhausted at last, and lay
still and helpless, frozen fast in the ice.

Early in the morning, a peasant, who was passing by, saw what
had happened. He broke the ice in pieces with his wooden shoe, and
carried the duckling home to his wife. The warmth revived the poor
little creature; but when the children wanted to play with him, the
duckling thought they would do him some harm; so he started up in
terror, fluttered into the milk-pan, and splashed the milk about the
room. Then the woman clapped her hands, which frightened him still
more. He flew first into the butter-cask, then into the meal-tub,
and out again. What a condition he was in! The woman screamed, and
struck at him with the tongs; the children laughed and screamed, and
tumbled over each other, in their efforts to catch him; but luckily he
escaped. The door stood open; the poor creature could just manage to
slip out among the bushes, and lie down quite exhausted in the newly
fallen snow.

It would be very sad, were I to relate all the misery and
privations which the poor little duckling endured during the hard
winter; but when it had passed, he found himself lying one morning
in a moor, amongst the rushes. He felt the warm sun shining, and heard
the lark singing, and saw that all around was beautiful spring. Then
the young bird felt that his wings were strong, as he flapped them
against his sides, and rose high into the air. They bore him
onwards, until he found himself in a large garden, before he well knew
how it had happened. The apple-trees were in full blossom, and the
fragrant elders bent their long green branches down to the stream
which wound round a smooth lawn. Everything looked beautiful, in the
freshness of early spring. From a thicket close by came three
beautiful white swans, rustling their feathers, and swimming lightly
over the smooth water. The duckling remembered the lovely birds, and
felt more strangely unhappy than ever.

"I will fly to those royal birds," he exclaimed, "and they will
kill me, because I am so ugly, and dare to approach them; but it
does not matter: better be killed by them than pecked by the ducks,
beaten by the hens, pushed about by the maiden who feeds the
poultry, or starved with hunger in the winter. "

Then he flew to the water, and swam towards the beautiful swans.
The moment they espied the stranger, they rushed to meet him with
outstretched wings.

"Kill me," said the poor bird; and he bent his head down to the
surface of the water, and awaited death.

But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image; no
longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a
graceful and beautiful swan. To be born in a duck's nest, in a
farmyard, is of no consequence to a bird, if it is hatched from a
swan's egg. He now felt glad at having suffered sorrow and trouble,
because it enabled him to enjoy so much better all the pleasure and
happiness around him; for the great swans swam round the new-comer,
and stroked his neck with their beaks, as a welcome.

Into the garden presently came some little children, and threw
bread and cake into the water.

"See," cried the youngest, "there is a new one;" and the rest were
delighted, and ran to their father and mother, dancing and clapping
their hands, and shouting joyously, "There is another swan come; a new
one has arrived. "

Then they threw more bread and cake into the water, and said, "The
new one is the most beautiful of all; he is so young and pretty. "
And the old swans bowed their heads before him.

Then he felt quite ashamed, and hid his head under his wing; for
he did not know what to do, he was so happy, and yet not at all proud.
He had been persecuted and despised for his ugliness, and now he heard
them say he was the most beautiful of all the birds. Even the
elder-tree bent down its bows into the water before him, and the sun
shone warm and bright. Then he rustled his feathers, curved his
slender neck, and cried joyfully, from the depths of his heart, "I
never dreamed of such happiness as this, while I was an ugly
duckling. "




UNDER THE WILLOW-TREE

The region round the little town of Kjoge is very bleak and
cold. The town lies on the sea shore, which is always beautiful; but
here it might be more beautiful than it is, for on every side the
fields are flat, and it is a long way to the forest. But when
persons reside in a place and get used to it, they can always find
something beautiful in it,--something for which they long, even in the
most charming spot in the world which is not home. It must be owned
that there are in the outskirts of the town some humble gardens on the
banks of a little stream that runs on towards the sea, and in summer
these gardens look very pretty. Such indeed was the opinion of two
little children, whose parents were neighbors, and who played in these
gardens, and forced their way from one garden to the other through the
gooseberry-bushes that divided them. In one of the gardens grew an
elder-tree, and in the other an old willow, under which the children
were very fond of playing. They had permission to do so, although
the tree stood close by the stream, and they might easily have
fallen into the water; but the eye of God watches over the little
ones, otherwise they would never be safe. At the same time, these
children were very careful not to go too near the water; indeed, the
boy was so afraid of it, that in the summer, while the other
children were splashing about in the sea, nothing could entice him
to join them. They jeered and laughed at him, and he was obliged to
bear it all as patiently as he could. Once the neighbor's little girl,
Joanna, dreamed that she was sailing in a boat, and the boy--Knud
was his name--waded out in the water to join her, and the water came
up to his neck, and at last closed over his head, and in a moment he
had disappeared. When little Knud heard this dream, it seemed as if he
could not bear the mocking and jeering again; how could he dare to
go into the water now, after Joanna's dream! He never would do it, for
this dream always satisfied him. The parents of these children, who
were poor, often sat together while Knud and Joanna played in the
gardens or in the road. Along this road--a row of willow-trees had
been planted to separate it from a ditch on one side of it. They
were not very handsome trees, for the tops had been cut off;
however, they were intended for use, and not for show. The old
willow-tree in the garden was much handsomer, and therefore the
children were very fond of sitting under it. The town had a large
market-place; and at the fair-time there would be whole rows, like
streets, of tents and booths containing silks and ribbons, and toys
and cakes, and everything that could be wished for. There were
crowds of people, and sometimes the weather would be rainy, and splash
with moisture the woollen jackets of the peasants; but it did not
destroy the beautiful fragrance of the honey-cakes and gingerbread
with which one booth was filled; and the best of it was, that the
man who sold these cakes always lodged during the fair-time with
little Knud's parents. So every now and then he had a present of
gingerbread, and of course Joanna always had a share.