No More Learning

The elfin maidens we're already dancing on the elf hill, and
they danced in shawls woven from moonshine and mist, which look very
pretty to those who like such things. The large hall within the elf
hill was splendidly decorated; the floor had been washed with
moonshine, and the walls had been rubbed with magic ointment, so
that they glowed like tulip-leaves in the light. In the kitchen were
frogs roasting on the spit, and dishes preparing of snail skins,
with children's fingers in them, salad of mushroom seed, hemlock,
noses and marrow of mice, beer from the marsh woman's brewery, and
sparkling salt-petre wine from the grave cellars. These were all
substantial food. Rusty nails and church-window glass formed the
dessert. The old elf king had his gold crown polished up with powdered
slate-pencil; it was like that used by the first form, and very
difficult for an elf king to obtain. In the bedrooms, curtains were
hung up and fastened with the slime of snails; there was, indeed, a
buzzing and humming everywhere.

"Now we must fumigate the place with burnt horse-hair and pig's
bristles, and then I think I shall have done my part," said the elf
man-servant.

"Father, dear," said the youngest daughter, "may I now hear who
our high-born visitors are? "

"Well, I suppose I must tell you now," he replied; "two of my
daughters must prepare themselves to be married, for the marriages
certainly will take place. The old goblin from Norway, who lives in
the ancient Dovre mountains, and who possesses many castles built of
rock and freestone, besides a gold mine, which is better than all,
so it is thought, is coming with his two sons, who are both seeking
a wife. The old goblin is a true-hearted, honest, old Norwegian
graybeard; cheerful and straightforward. I knew him formerly, when
we used to drink together to our good fellowship: he came here once to
fetch his wife, she is dead now. She was the daughter of the king of
the chalk-hills at Moen. They say he took his wife from chalk; I shall
be delighted to see him again. It is said that the boys are
ill-bred, forward lads, but perhaps that is not quite correct, and
they will become better as they grow older. Let me see that you know
how to teach them good manners. "

"And when are they coming? " asked the daughter.

"That depends upon wind and weather," said the elf king; "they
travel economically. They will come when there is the chance of a
ship. I wanted them to come over to Sweden, but the old man was not
inclined to take my advice. He does not go forward with the times, and
that I do not like. "

Two will-o'-the-wisps came jumping in, one quicker than the other,
so of course, one arrived first. "They are coming! they are coming! "
he cried.

"Give me my crown," said the elf king, "and let me stand in the
moonshine. "

The daughters drew on their shawls and bowed down to the ground.
There stood the old goblin from the Dovre mountains, with his crown of
hardened ice and polished fir-cones. Besides this, he wore a
bear-skin, and great, warm boots, while his sons went with their
throats bare and wore no braces, for they were strong men.

"Is that a hill? " said the youngest of the boys, pointing to the
elf hill, "we should call it a hole in Norway. "

"Boys," said the old man, "a hole goes in, and a hill stands
out; have you no eyes in your heads? "

Another thing they wondered at was, that they were able without
trouble to understand the language.

"Take care," said the old man, "or people will think you have
not been well brought up. "

Then they entered the elfin hill, where the select and grand
company were assembled, and so quickly had they appeared that they
seemed to have been blown together. But for each guest the neatest and
pleasantest arrangement had been made. The sea folks sat at table in
great water-tubs, and they said it was just like being at home. All
behaved themselves properly excepting the two young northern goblins;
they put their legs on the table and thought they were all right.

"Feet off the table-cloth! " said the old goblin. They obeyed,
but not immediately. Then they tickled the ladies who waited at table,
with the fir-cones, which they carried in their pockets. They took off
their boots, that they might be more at ease, and gave them to the
ladies to hold. But their father, the old goblin, was very
different; he talked pleasantly about the stately Norwegian rocks, and
told fine tales of the waterfalls which dashed over them with a
clattering noise like thunder or the sound of an organ, spreading
their white foam on every side. He told of the salmon that leaps in
the rushing waters, while the water-god plays on his golden harp. He
spoke of the bright winter nights, when the sledge bells are
ringing, and the boys run with burning torches across the smooth
ice, which is so transparent that they can see the fishes dart forward
beneath their feet. He described everything so clearly, that those who
listened could see it all; they could see the saw-mills going, the
men-servants and the maidens singing songs, and dancing a rattling
dance,--when all at once the old goblin gave the old elfin maiden a
kiss, such a tremendous kiss, and yet they were almost strangers to
each other.

Then the elfin girls had to dance, first in the usual way, and
then with stamping feet, which they performed very well; then followed
the artistic and solo dance. Dear me, how they did throw their legs
about! No one could tell where the dance begun, or where it ended, nor
indeed which were legs and which were arms, for they were all flying
about together, like the shavings in a saw-pit! And then they spun
round so quickly that the death-horse and the grave-pig became sick
and giddy, and were obliged to leave the table.

"Stop! " cried the old goblin, "is that the only house-keeping they
can perform? Can they do anything more than dance and throw about
their legs, and make a whirlwind? "

"You shall soon see what they can do," said the elf king. And then
he called his youngest daughter to him. She was slender and fair as
moonlight, and the most graceful of all the sisters. She took a
white chip in her mouth, and vanished instantly; this was her
accomplishment. But the old goblin said he should not like his wife to
have such an accomplishment, and thought his boys would have the
same objection. Another daughter could make a figure like herself
follow her, as if she had a shadow, which none of the goblin folk ever
had. The third was of quite a different sort; she had learnt in the
brew-house of the moor witch how to lard elfin puddings with
glow-worms.

"She will make a good housewife," said the old goblin, and then
saluted her with his eyes instead of drinking her health; for he did
not drink much.

Now came the fourth daughter, with a large harp to play upon;
and when she struck the first chord, every one lifted up the left
leg (for the goblins are left-legged), and at the second chord they
found they must all do just what she wanted.

"That is a dangerous woman," said the old goblin; and the two sons
walked out of the hill; they had had enough of it. "And what can the
next daughter do? " asked the old goblin.

"I have learnt everything that is Norwegian," said she; "and I
will never marry, unless I can go to Norway. "

Then her youngest sister whispered to the old goblin, "That is
only because she has heard, in a Norwegian song, that when the world
shall decay, the cliffs of Norway will remain standing like monuments;
and she wants to get there, that she may be safe; for she is so afraid
of sinking. "

"Ho! ho! " said the old goblin, "is that what she means? Well, what
can the seventh and last do? "

"The sixth comes before the seventh," said the elf king, for he
could reckon; but the sixth would not come forward.

"I can only tell people the truth," said she. "No one cares for
me, nor troubles himself about me; and I have enough to do to sew my
grave clothes. "

So the seventh and last came; and what could she do? Why, she
could tell stories, as many as you liked, on any subject.

"Here are my five fingers," said the old goblin; "now tell me a
story for each of them. "

So she took him by the wrist, and he laughed till he nearly
choked; and when she came to the fourth finger, there was a gold
ring on it, as if it knew there was to be a betrothal. Then the old
goblin said, "Hold fast what you have: this hand is yours; for I
will have you for a wife myself. "

Then the elfin girl said that the stories about the ring-finger
and little Peter Playman had not yet been told.

"We will hear them in the winter," said the old goblin, "and
also about the fir and the birch-trees, and the ghost stories, and
of the tingling frost. You shall tell your tales, for no one over
there can do it so well; and we will sit in the stone rooms, where the
pine logs are burning, and drink mead out of the golden
drinking-horn of the old Norwegian kings. The water-god has given me
two; and when we sit there, Nix comes to pay us a visit, and will sing
you all the songs of the mountain shepherdesses. How merry we shall
be! The salmon will be leaping in the waterfalls, and dashing
against the stone walls, but he will not be able to come in. It is
indeed very pleasant to live in old Norway. But where are the lads? "

Where indeed were they? Why, running about the fields, and blowing
out the will-o'-the-wisps, who so good-naturedly came and brought
their torches.

"What tricks have you been playing? " said the old goblin. "I
have taken a mother for you, and now you may take one of your aunts. "

But the youngsters said they would rather make a speech and
drink to their good fellowship; they had no wish to marry. Then they
made speeches and drank toasts, and tipped their glasses, to show that
they were empty. Then they took off their coats, and lay down on the
table to sleep; for they made themselves quite at home. But the old
goblin danced about the room with his young bride, and exchanged boots
with her, which is more fashionable than exchanging rings.

"The cock is crowing," said the old elfin maiden who acted as
housekeeper; "now we must close the shutters, that the sun may not
scorch us. "

Then the hill closed up. But the lizards continued to run up and
down the riven tree; and one said to the other, "Oh, how much I was
pleased with the old goblin! "

"The boys pleased me better," said the earth-worm. But then the
poor miserable creature could not see.




THE EMPEROR'S NEW SUIT

Many, many years ago lived an emperor, who thought so much of
new clothes that he spent all his money in order to obtain them; his
only ambition was to be always well dressed. He did not care for his
soldiers, and the theatre did not amuse him; the only thing, in
fact, he thought anything of was to drive out and show a new suit of
clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day; and as one would say
of a king "He is in his cabinet," so one could say of him, "The
emperor is in his dressing-room. "

The great city where he resided was very gay; every day many
strangers from all parts of the globe arrived. One day two swindlers
came to this city; they made people believe that they were weavers,
and declared they could manufacture the finest cloth to be imagined.
Their colours and patterns, they said, were not only exceptionally
beautiful, but the clothes made of their material possessed the
wonderful quality of being invisible to any man who was unfit for
his office or unpardonably stupid.

"That must be wonderful cloth," thought the emperor. "If I were to
be dressed in a suit made of this cloth I should be able to find out
which men in my empire were unfit for their places, and I could
distinguish the clever from the stupid. I must have this cloth woven
for me without delay. " And he gave a large sum of money to the
swindlers, in advance, that they should set to work without any loss
of time. They set up two looms, and pretended to be very hard at work,
but they did nothing whatever on the looms. They asked for the
finest silk and the most precious gold-cloth; all they got they did
away with, and worked at the empty looms till late at night.

"I should very much like to know how they are getting on with
the cloth," thought the emperor. But he felt rather uneasy when he
remembered that he who was not fit for his office could not see it.
Personally, he was of opinion that he had nothing to fear, yet he
thought it advisable to send somebody else first to see how matters
stood. Everybody in the town knew what a remarkable quality the
stuff possessed, and all were anxious to see how bad or stupid their
neighbours were.

"I shall send my honest old minister to the weavers," thought
the emperor. "He can judge best how the stuff looks, for he is
intelligent, and nobody understands his office better than he. "

The good old minister went into the room where the swindlers sat
before the empty looms. "Heaven preserve us! " he thought, and opened
his eyes wide, "I cannot see anything at all," but he did not say
so. Both swindlers requested him to come near, and asked him if he did
not admire the exquisite pattern and the beautiful colours, pointing
to the empty looms. The poor old minister tried his very best, but
he could see nothing, for there was nothing to be seen. "Oh dear,"
he thought, "can I be so stupid? I should never have thought so, and
nobody must know it! Is it possible that I am not fit for my office?
No, no, I cannot say that I was unable to see the cloth. "

"Now, have you got nothing to say? " said one of the swindlers,
while he pretended to be busily weaving.

"Oh, it is very pretty, exceedingly beautiful," replied the old
minister looking through his glasses. "What a beautiful pattern,
what brilliant colours! I shall tell the emperor that I like the cloth
very much. "

"We are pleased to hear that," said the two weavers, and described
to him the colours and explained the curious pattern. The old minister
listened attentively, that he might relate to the emperor what they
said; and so he did.

Now the swindlers asked for more money, silk and gold-cloth, which
they required for weaving. They kept everything for themselves, and
not a thread came near the loom, but they continued, as hitherto, to
work at the empty looms.

Soon afterwards the emperor sent another honest courtier to the
weavers to see how they were getting on, and if the cloth was nearly
finished. Like the old minister, he looked and looked but could see
nothing, as there was nothing to be seen.

"Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth? " asked the two swindlers,
showing and explaining the magnificent pattern, which, however, did
not exist.

"I am not stupid," said the man. "It is therefore my good
appointment for which I am not fit. It is very strange, but I must not
let any one know it;" and he praised the cloth, which he did not
see, and expressed his joy at the beautiful colours and the fine
pattern. "It is very excellent," he said to the emperor.

Everybody in the whole town talked about the precious cloth. At
last the emperor wished to see it himself, while it was still on the
loom. With a number of courtiers, including the two who had already
been there, he went to the two clever swindlers, who now worked as
hard as they could, but without using any thread.

"Is it not magnificent? " said the two old statesmen who had been
there before. "Your Majesty must admire the colours and the
pattern. " And then they pointed to the empty looms, for they
imagined the others could see the cloth.

"What is this? " thought the emperor, "I do not see anything at
all. That is terrible! Am I stupid? Am I unfit to be emperor? That
would indeed be the most dreadful thing that could happen to me. "

"Really," he said, turning to the weavers, "your cloth has our
most gracious approval;" and nodding contentedly he looked at the
empty loom, for he did not like to say that he saw nothing. All his
attendants, who were with him, looked and looked, and although they
could not see anything more than the others, they said, like the
emperor, "It is very beautiful. " And all advised him to wear the new
magnificent clothes at a great procession which was soon to take
place. "It is magnificent, beautiful, excellent," one heard them
say; everybody seemed to be delighted, and the emperor appointed the
two swindlers "Imperial Court weavers. "

The whole night previous to the day on which the procession was to
take place, the swindlers pretended to work, and burned more than
sixteen candles. People should see that they were busy to finish the
emperor's new suit. They pretended to take the cloth from the loom,
and worked about in the air with big scissors, and sewed with
needles without thread, and said at last: "The emperor's new suit is
ready now. "

The emperor and all his barons then came to the hall; the
swindlers held their arms up as if they held something in their
hands and said: "These are the trousers! " "This is the coat! " and
"Here is the cloak! " and so on. "They are all as light as a cobweb,
and one must feel as if one had nothing at all upon the body; but that
is just the beauty of them. "

"Indeed! " said all the courtiers; but they could not see anything,
for there was nothing to be seen.

"Does it please your Majesty now to graciously undress," said
the swindlers, "that we may assist your Majesty in putting on the
new suit before the large looking-glass? "

The emperor undressed, and the swindlers pretended to put the
new suit upon him, one piece after another; and the emperor looked
at himself in the glass from every side.

"How well they look! How well they fit! " said all. "What a
beautiful pattern! What fine colours! That is a magnificent suit of
clothes! "

The master of the ceremonies announced that the bearers of the
canopy, which was to be carried in the procession, were ready.

"I am ready," said the emperor. "Does not my suit fit me
marvellously? " Then he turned once more to the looking-glass, that
people should think he admired his garments.

The chamberlains, who were to carry the train, stretched their
hands to the ground as if they lifted up a train, and pretended to
hold something in their hands; they did not like people to know that
they could not see anything.

The emperor marched in the procession under the beautiful
canopy, and all who saw him in the street and out of the windows
exclaimed: "Indeed, the emperor's new suit is incomparable! What a
long train he has! How well it fits him! " Nobody wished to let
others know he saw nothing, for then he would have been unfit for
his office or too stupid. Never emperor's clothes were more admired.

"But he has nothing on at all," said a little child at last. "Good
heavens! listen to the voice of an innocent child," said the father,
and one whispered to the other what the child had said. "But he has
nothing on at all," cried at last the whole people. That made a deep
impression upon the emperor, for it seemed to him that they were
right; but he thought to himself, "Now I must bear up to the end. " And
the chamberlains walked with still greater dignity, as if they carried
the train which did not exist.




THE FIR TREE

Far down in the forest, where the warm sun and the fresh air
made a sweet resting-place, grew a pretty little fir-tree; and yet
it was not happy, it wished so much to be tall like its companions--the
pines and firs which grew around it.
The sun shone, and the soft
air fluttered its leaves, and the little peasant children passed by,
prattling merrily, but the fir-tree heeded them not. Sometimes the
children would bring a large basket of raspberries or strawberries,
wreathed on a straw, and seat themselves near the fir-tree, and say,
"Is it not a pretty little tree? " which made it feel more unhappy than
before. And yet all this while the tree grew a notch or joint taller
every year; for by the number of joints in the stem of a fir-tree we
can discover its age. Still, as it grew, it complained, "Oh! how I
wish I were as tall as the other trees, then I would spread out my
branches on every side, and my top would over-look the wide world. I
should have the birds building their nests on my boughs, and when
the wind blew, I should bow with stately dignity like my tall
companions. " The tree was so discontented, that it took no pleasure in
the warm sunshine, the birds, or the rosy clouds that floated over
it morning and evening. Sometimes, in winter, when the snow lay
white and glittering on the ground, a hare would come springing along,
and jump right over the little tree; and then how mortified it would
feel! Two winters passed, and when the third arrived, the tree had
grown so tall that the hare was obliged to run round it. Yet it
remained unsatisfied, and would exclaim, "Oh, if I could but keep on
growing tall and old! There is nothing else worth caring for in the
world! " In the autumn, as usual, the wood-cutters came and cut down
several of the tallest trees, and the young fir-tree, which was now
grown to its full height, shuddered as the noble trees fell to the
earth with a crash. After the branches were lopped off, the trunks
looked so slender and bare, that they could scarcely be recognized.
Then they were placed upon wagons, and drawn by horses out of the
forest. "Where were they going? What would become of them? " The
young fir-tree wished very much to know; so in the spring, when the
swallows and the storks came, it asked, "Do you know where those trees
were taken? Did you meet them? "

The swallows knew nothing, but the stork, after a little
reflection, nodded his head, and said, "Yes, I think I do. I met
several new ships when I flew from Egypt, and they had fine masts that
smelt like fir. I think these must have been the trees; I assure you
they were stately, very stately. "

"Oh, how I wish I were tall enough to go on the sea," said the
fir-tree. "What is the sea, and what does it look like? "

"It would take too much time to explain," said the stork, flying
quickly away.

"Rejoice in thy youth," said the sunbeam; "rejoice in thy fresh
growth, and the young life that is in thee. "

And the wind kissed the tree, and the dew watered it with tears;
but the fir-tree regarded them not.

Christmas-time drew near, and many young trees were cut down, some
even smaller and younger than the fir-tree who enjoyed neither rest
nor peace with longing to leave its forest home. These young trees,
which were chosen for their beauty, kept their branches, and were also
laid on wagons and drawn by horses out of the forest.

"Where are they going? " asked the fir-tree. "They are not taller
than I am: indeed, one is much less; and why are the branches not
cut off? Where are they going? "

"We know, we know," sang the sparrows; "we have looked in at the
windows of the houses in the town, and we know what is done with them.
They are dressed up in the most splendid manner. We have seen them
standing in the middle of a warm room, and adorned with all sorts of
beautiful things,--honey cakes, gilded apples, playthings, and many
hundreds of wax tapers. "

"And then," asked the fir-tree, trembling through all its
branches, "and then what happens? "

"We did not see any more," said the sparrows; "but this was enough
for us. "

"I wonder whether anything so brilliant will ever happen to me,"
thought the fir-tree. "It would be much better than crossing the
sea. I long for it almost with pain. Oh! when will Christmas be
here? I am now as tall and well grown as those which were taken away
last year. Oh! that I were now laid on the wagon, or standing in the
warm room, with all that brightness and splendor around me!
Something better and more beautiful is to come after, or the trees
would not be so decked out. Yes, what follows will be grander and more
splendid. What can it be? I am weary with longing. I scarcely know how
I feel. "

"Rejoice with us," said the air and the sunlight. "Enjoy thine own
bright life in the fresh air. "

But the tree would not rejoice, though it grew taller every day;
and, winter and summer, its dark-green foliage might be seen in the
forest, while passers by would say, "What a beautiful tree! "

A short time before Christmas, the discontented fir-tree was the
first to fall. As the axe cut through the stem, and divided the
pith, the tree fell with a groan to the earth, conscious of pain and
faintness, and forgetting all its anticipations of happiness, in
sorrow at leaving its home in the forest. It knew that it should never
again see its dear old companions, the trees, nor the little bushes
and many-colored flowers that had grown by its side; perhaps not
even the birds. Neither was the journey at all pleasant. The tree
first recovered itself while being unpacked in the courtyard of a
house, with several other trees; and it heard a man say, "We only want
one, and this is the prettiest. "

Then came two servants in grand livery, and carried the fir-tree
into a large and beautiful apartment. On the walls hung pictures,
and near the great stove stood great china vases, with lions on the
lids. There were rocking chairs, silken sofas, large tables, covered
with pictures, books, and playthings, worth a great deal of money,--at
least, the children said so. Then the fir-tree was placed in a large
tub, full of sand; but green baize hung all around it, so that no
one could see it was a tub, and it stood on a very handsome carpet.
How the fir-tree trembled! "What was going to happen to him now? " Some
young ladies came, and the servants helped them to adorn the tree.
On one branch they hung little bags cut out of colored paper, and each
bag was filled with sweetmeats; from other branches hung gilded apples
and walnuts, as if they had grown there; and above, and all round,
were hundreds of red, blue, and white tapers, which were fastened on
the branches. Dolls, exactly like real babies, were placed under the
green leaves,--the tree had never seen such things before,--and at the
very top was fastened a glittering star, made of tinsel. Oh, it was
very beautiful!

"This evening," they all exclaimed, "how bright it will be! "
"Oh, that the evening were come," thought the tree, "and the tapers
lighted! then I shall know what else is going to happen. Will the
trees of the forest come to see me? I wonder if the sparrows will peep
in at the windows as they fly? shall I grow faster here, and keep on
all these ornaments summer and winter? " But guessing was of very
little use; it made his bark ache, and this pain is as bad for a
slender fir-tree, as headache is for us. At last the tapers were
lighted, and then what a glistening blaze of light the tree presented!
It trembled so with joy in all its branches, that one of the candles
fell among the green leaves and burnt some of them. "Help! help! "
exclaimed the young ladies, but there was no danger, for they
quickly extinguished the fire. After this, the tree tried not to
tremble at all, though the fire frightened him; he was so anxious
not to hurt any of the beautiful ornaments, even while their
brilliancy dazzled him. And now the folding doors were thrown open,
and a troop of children rushed in as if they intended to upset the
tree; they were followed more silently by their elders. For a moment
the little ones stood silent with astonishment, and then they
shouted for joy, till the room rang, and they danced merrily round the
tree, while one present after another was taken from it.

"What are they doing? What will happen next? " thought the fir.
At last the candles burnt down to the branches and were put out.
Then the children received permission to plunder the tree.

Oh, how they rushed upon it, till the branches cracked, and had it
not been fastened with the glistening star to the ceiling, it must
have been thrown down. The children then danced about with their
pretty toys, and no one noticed the tree, except the children's maid
who came and peeped among the branches to see if an apple or a fig had
been forgotten.

"A story, a story," cried the children, pulling a little fat man
towards the tree.

"Now we shall be in the green shade," said the man, as he seated
himself under it, "and the tree will have the pleasure of hearing
also, but I shall only relate one story; what shall it be?
Ivede-Avede, or Humpty Dumpty, who fell down stairs, but soon got up
again, and at last married a princess. "

"Ivede-Avede," cried some. "Humpty Dumpty," cried others, and
there was a fine shouting and crying out. But the fir-tree remained
quite still, and thought to himself, "Shall I have anything to do with
all this? " but he had already amused them as much as they wished. Then
the old man told them the story of Humpty Dumpty, how he fell down
stairs, and was raised up again, and married a princess. And the
children clapped their hands and cried, "Tell another, tell
another," for they wanted to hear the story of "Ivede-Avede;" but they
only had "Humpty Dumpty. " After this the fir-tree became quite
silent and thoughtful; never had the birds in the forest told such
tales as "Humpty Dumpty," who fell down stairs, and yet married a
princess.

"Ah! yes, so it happens in the world," thought the fir-tree; he
believed it all, because it was related by such a nice man. "Ah!
well," he thought, "who knows? perhaps I may fall down too, and
marry a princess;" and he looked forward joyfully to the next evening,
expecting to be again decked out with lights and playthings, gold
and fruit. "To-morrow I will not tremble," thought he; "I will enjoy
all my splendor, and I shall hear the story of Humpty Dumpty again,
and perhaps Ivede-Avede. " And the tree remained quiet and thoughtful
all night. In the morning the servants and the housemaid came in.
"Now," thought the fir, "all my splendor is going to begin again. " But
they dragged him out of the room and up stairs to the garret, and
threw him on the floor, in a dark corner, where no daylight shone, and
there they left him. "What does this mean? " thought the tree, "what am
I to do here? I can hear nothing in a place like this," and he had
time enough to think, for days and nights passed and no one came
near him, and when at last somebody did come, it was only to put
away large boxes in a corner. So the tree was completely hidden from
sight as if it had never existed. "It is winter now," thought the
tree, "the ground is hard and covered with snow, so that people cannot
plant me. I shall be sheltered here, I dare say, until spring comes.
How thoughtful and kind everybody is to me! Still I wish this place
were not so dark, as well as lonely, with not even a little hare to
look at. How pleasant it was out in the forest while the snow lay on
the ground, when the hare would run by, yes, and jump over me too,
although I did not like it then. Oh! it is terrible lonely here. "

"Squeak, squeak," said a little mouse, creeping cautiously towards
the tree; then came another; and they both sniffed at the fir-tree and
crept between the branches.

"Oh, it is very cold," said the little mouse, "or else we should
be so comfortable here, shouldn't we, you old fir-tree? "

"I am not old," said the fir-tree, "there are many who are older
than I am. "

"Where do you come from? and what do you know? " asked the mice,
who were full of curiosity. "Have you seen the most beautiful places
in the world, and can you tell us all about them? and have you been in
the storeroom, where cheeses lie on the shelf, and hams hang from
the ceiling? One can run about on tallow candles there, and go in thin
and come out fat. "

"I know nothing of that place," said the fir-tree, "but I know the
wood where the sun shines and the birds sing. " And then the tree
told the little mice all about its youth. They had never heard such an
account in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively,
they said, "What a number of things you have seen? you must have
been very happy. "

"Happy! " exclaimed the fir-tree, and then as he reflected upon
what he had been telling them, he said, "Ah, yes! after all those were
happy days. " But when he went on and related all about Christmas-eve,
and how he had been dressed up with cakes and lights, the mice
said, "How happy you must have been, you old fir-tree. "

"I am not old at all," replied the tree, "I only came from the
forest this winter, I am now checked in my growth. "

"What splendid stories you can relate," said the little mice.
And the next night four other mice came with them to hear what the
tree had to tell. The more he talked the more he remembered, and
then he thought to himself, "Those were happy days, but they may
come again. Humpty Dumpty fell down stairs, and yet he married the
princess; perhaps I may marry a princess too. " And the fir-tree
thought of the pretty little birch-tree that grew in the forest, which
was to him a real beautiful princess.

"Who is Humpty Dumpty? " asked the little mice. And then the tree
related the whole story; he could remember every single word, and
the little mice was so delighted with it, that they were ready to jump
to the top of the tree. The next night a great many more mice made
their appearance, and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they
said, it was not a pretty story at all, and the little mice were
very sorry, for it made them also think less of it.

"Do you know only one story? " asked the rats.

"Only one," replied the fir-tree; "I heard it on the happiest
evening of my life; but I did not know I was so happy at the time. "

"We think it is a very miserable story," said the rats. "Don't you
know any story about bacon, or tallow in the storeroom. "

"No," replied the tree.

"Many thanks to you then," replied the rats, and they marched off.

The little mice also kept away after this, and the tree sighed,
and said, "It was very pleasant when the merry little mice sat round
me and listened while I talked. Now that is all passed too. However, I
shall consider myself happy when some one comes to take me out of this
place. " But would this ever happen? Yes; one morning people came to
clear out the garret, the boxes were packed away, and the tree was
pulled out of the corner, and thrown roughly on the garret floor; then
the servant dragged it out upon the staircase where the daylight
shone. "Now life is beginning again," said the tree, rejoicing in
the sunshine and fresh air. Then it was carried down stairs and
taken into the courtyard so quickly, that it forgot to think of
itself, and could only look about, there was so much to be seen. The
court was close to a garden, where everything looked blooming. Fresh
and fragrant roses hung over the little palings. The linden-trees were
in blossom; while the swallows flew here and there, crying, "Twit,
twit, twit, my mate is coming,"--but it was not the fir-tree they
meant. "Now I shall live," cried the tree, joyfully spreading out
its branches; but alas! they were all withered and yellow, and it
lay in a corner amongst weeds and nettles. The star of gold paper
still stuck in the top of the tree and glittered in the sunshine. In
the same courtyard two of the merry children were playing who had
danced round the tree at Christmas, and had been so happy. The
youngest saw the gilded star, and ran and pulled it off the tree.
"Look what is sticking to the ugly old fir-tree," said the child,
treading on the branches till they crackled under his boots. And the
tree saw all the fresh bright flowers in the garden, and then looked
at itself, and wished it had remained in the dark corner of the
garret. It thought of its fresh youth in the forest, of the merry
Christmas evening, and of the little mice who had listened to the
story of "Humpty Dumpty. " "Past! past! " said the old tree; "Oh, had
I but enjoyed myself while I could have done so! but now it is too
late. " Then a lad came and chopped the tree into small pieces, till
a large bundle lay in a heap on the ground. The pieces were placed
in a fire under the copper, and they quickly blazed up brightly, while
the tree sighed so deeply that each sigh was like a pistol-shot.
Then the children, who were at play, came and seated themselves in
front of the fire, and looked at it and cried, "Pop, pop. " But at each
"pop," which was a deep sigh, the tree was thinking of a summer day in
the forest; and of Christmas evening, and of "Humpty Dumpty," the only
story it had ever heard or knew how to relate, till at last it was
consumed. The boys still played in the garden, and the youngest wore
the golden star on his breast, with which the tree had been adorned
during the happiest evening of its existence. Now all was past; the
tree's life was past, and the story also,--for all stories must come
to an end at last.




THE FLAX

The flax was in full bloom; it had pretty little blue flowers as
delicate as the wings of a moth, or even more so. The sun shone, and
the showers watered it; and this was just as good for the flax as it
is for little children to be washed and then kissed by their mother.
They look much prettier for it, and so did the flax.

"People say that I look exceedingly well," said the flax, "and
that I am so fine and long that I shall make a beautiful piece of
linen. How fortunate I am; it makes me so happy, it is such a pleasant
thing to know that something can be made of me. How the sunshine
cheers me, and how sweet and refreshing is the rain; my happiness
overpowers me, no one in the world can feel happier than I am. "

"Ah, yes, no doubt," said the fern, "but you do not know the world
yet as well as I do, for my sticks are knotty;" and then it sung quite
mournfully--

"Snip, snap, snurre,
Basse lurre:
The song is ended. "


"No, it is not ended," said the flax. "To-morrow the sun will
shine, or the rain descend. I feel that I am growing. I feel that I am
in full blossom. I am the happiest of all creatures. "

Well, one day some people came, who took hold of the flax, and
pulled it up by the roots; this was painful; then it was laid in water
as if they intended to drown it; and, after that, placed near a fire
as if it were to be roasted; all this was very shocking. "We cannot
expect to be happy always," said the flax; "by experiencing evil as
well as good, we become wise. " And certainly there was plenty of
evil in store for the flax. It was steeped, and roasted, and broken,
and combed; indeed, it scarcely knew what was done to it. At last it
was put on the spinning wheel.