No More Learning

When the eye of the
murdered man closes, the picture of what it saw last clings to it
for a time like a photographic picture.

So it was likewise here. The bustling life of day had not yet
disappeared in the quiet night. The Dryad had seen it; she knew,
thus it will be repeated tomorrow.

The Dryad stood among the fragrant roses, and thought she knew
them, and had seen them in her own home. She also saw red
pomegranate flowers, like those that little Mary had worn in her
dark hair.

Remembrances from the home of her childhood flashed through her
thoughts; her eyes eagerly drank in the prospect around, and
feverish restlessness chased her through the wonder-filled halls.

A weariness that increased continually, took possession of her.
She felt a longing to rest on the soft Oriental carpets within, or
to lean against the weeping willow without by the clear water. But for
the ephemeral fly there was no rest. In a few moments the day had
completed its circle.

Her thoughts trembled, her limbs trembled, she sank down on the
grass by the bubbling water.

"Thou wilt ever spring living from the earth," she said
mournfully. "Moisten my tongue--bring me a refreshing draught. "

"I am no living water," was the answer. "I only spring upward when
the machine wills it. "

"Give me something of thy freshness, thou green grass," implored
the Dryad; "give me one of thy fragrant flowers. "

"We must die if we are torn from our stalks," replied the
Flowers and the Grass.

"Give me a kiss, thou fresh stream of air--only a single
life-kiss. "

"Soon the sun will kiss the clouds red," answered the Wind;
"then thou wilt be among the dead--blown away, as all the splendor
here will be blown away before the year shall have ended. Then I can
play again with the light loose sand on the place here, and whirl
the dust over the land and through the air. All is dust! "

The Dryad felt a terror like a woman who has cut asunder her
pulse-artery in the bath, but is filled again with the love of life,
even while she is bleeding to death. She raised herself, tottered
forward a few steps, and sank down again at the entrance to a little
church. The gate stood open, lights were burning upon the altar, and
the organ sounded.

What music! Such notes the Dryad had never yet heard; and yet it
seemed to her as if she recognized a number of well-known voices among
them. They came deep from the heart of all creation. She thought she
heard the stories of the old clergyman, of great deeds, and of the
celebrated names, and of the gifts that the creatures of God must
bestow upon posterity, if they would live on in the world.

The tones of the organ swelled, and in their song there sounded
these words:

"Thy wishing and thy longing have torn thee, with thy roots,
from the place which God appointed for thee. That was thy destruction,
thou poor Dryad! "

The notes became soft and gentle, and seemed to die away in a
wail.

In the sky the clouds showed themselves with a ruddy gleam. The
Wind sighed:

"Pass away, ye dead! now the sun is going to rise! "

The first ray fell on the Dryad. Her form was irradiated in
changing colors, like the soap-bubble when it is bursting and
becomes a drop of water; like a tear that falls and passes away like a
vapor.

Poor Dryad! Only a dew-drop, only a tear, poured upon the earth,
and vanished away!




JACK THE DULLARD

AN OLD STORY TOLD ANEW

Far in the interior of the country lay an old baronial hall, and
in it lived an old proprietor, who had two sons, which two young men
thought themselves too clever by half. They wanted to go out and woo
the King's daughter; for the maiden in question had publicly announced
that she would choose for her husband that youth who could arrange his
words best.

So these two geniuses prepared themselves a full week for the
wooing--this was the longest time that could be granted them; but it
was enough, for they had had much preparatory information, and
everybody knows how useful that is. One of them knew the whole Latin
dictionary by heart, and three whole years of the daily paper of the
little town into the bargain, and so well, indeed, that he could
repeat it all either backwards or forwards, just as he chose. The
other was deeply read in the corporation laws, and knew by heart
what every corporation ought to know; and accordingly he thought he
could talk of affairs of state, and put his spoke in the wheel in
the council. And he knew one thing more: he could embroider suspenders
with roses and other flowers, and with arabesques, for he was a tasty,
light-fingered fellow.

"I shall win the Princess! " So cried both of them. Therefore their
old papa gave to each of them a handsome horse. The youth who knew the
dictionary and newspaper by heart had a black horse, and he who knew
all about the corporation laws received a milk-white steed. Then
they rubbed the corners of their mouths with fish-oil, so that they
might become very smooth and glib. All the servants stood below in the
courtyard, and looked on while they mounted their horses; and just
by chance the third son came up. For the proprietor had really three
sons, though nobody counted the third with his brothers, because he
was not so learned as they, and indeed he was generally known as "Jack
the Dullard. "

"Hallo! " said Jack the Dullard, "where are you going? I declare
you have put on your Sunday clothes! "

"We're going to the King's court, as suitors to the King's
daughter. Don't you know the announcement that has been made all
through the country? " And they told him all about it.

"My word! I'll be in it too! " cried Jack the Dullard; and his
two brothers burst out laughing at him, and rode away.

"Father, dear," said Jack, "I must have a horse too. I do feel
so desperately inclined to marry! If she accepts me, she accepts me;
and if she won't have me, I'll have her; but she shall be mine! "

"Don't talk nonsense," replied the old gentleman. "You shall
have no horse from me. You don't know how to speak--you can't
arrange your words. Your brothers are very different fellows from
you. "

"Well," quoth Jack the Dullard, "If I can't have a horse, I'll
take the Billy-goat, who belongs to me, and he can carry me very
well! "

And so said, so done. He mounted the Billy-goat, pressed his heels
into its sides, and galloped down the high street like a hurricane.

"Hei, houp! that was a ride! Here I come! " shouted Jack the
Dullard, and he sang till his voice echoed far and wide.

But his brothers rode slowly on in advance of him. They spoke
not a word, for they were thinking about the fine extempore speeches
they would have to bring out, and these had to be cleverly prepared
beforehand.

"Hallo! " shouted Jack the Dullard. "Here am I! Look what I have
found on the high road. " And he showed them what it was, and it was
a dead crow.

"Dullard! " exclaimed the brothers, "what are you going to do
with that? "

"With the crow? why, I am going to give it to the Princess. "

"Yes, do so," said they; and they laughed, and rode on.

"Hallo, here I am again! just see what I have found now: you don't
find that on the high road every day! "

And the brothers turned round to see what he could have found now.

"Dullard! " they cried, "that is only an old wooden shoe, and the
upper part is missing into the bargain; are you going to give that
also to the Princess? "

"Most certainly I shall," replied Jack the Dullard; and again
the brothers laughed and rode on, and thus they got far in advance
of him; but--

"Hallo--hop rara! " and there was Jack the Dullard again. "It is
getting better and better," he cried. "Hurrah! it is quite famous. "

"Why, what have you found this time? " inquired the brothers.

"Oh," said Jack the Dullard, "I can hardly tell you. How glad
the Princess will be! "

"Bah! " said the brothers; "that is nothing but clay out of the
ditch. "

"Yes, certainly it is," said Jack the Dullard; "and clay of the
finest sort. See, it is so wet, it runs through one's fingers. " And he
filled his pocket with the clay.

But his brothers galloped on till the sparks flew, and
consequently they arrived a full hour earlier at the town gate than
could Jack. Now at the gate each suitor was provided with a number,
and all were placed in rows immediately on their arrival, six in
each row, and so closely packed together that they could not move
their arms; and that was a prudent arrangement, for they would
certainly have come to blows, had they been able, merely because one
of them stood before the other.

All the inhabitants of the country round about stood in great
crowds around the castle, almost under the very windows, to see the
Princess receive the suitors; and as each stepped into the hall, his
power of speech seemed to desert him, like the light of a candle
that is blown out. Then the Princess would say, "He is of no use! Away
with him out of the hall! "

At last the turn came for that brother who knew the dictionary
by heart; but he did not know it now; he had absolutely forgotten it
altogether; and the boards seemed to re-echo with his footsteps, and
the ceiling of the hall was made of looking-glass, so that he saw
himself standing on his head; and at the window stood three clerks and
a head clerk, and every one of them was writing down every single word
that was uttered, so that it might be printed in the newspapers, and
sold for a penny at the street corners. It was a terrible ordeal,
and they had, moreover, made such a fire in the stove, that the room
seemed quite red hot.

"It is dreadfully hot here! " observed the first brother.

"Yes," replied the Princess, "my father is going to roast young
pullets today. "

"Baa! " there he stood like a baa-lamb. He had not been prepared
for a speech of this kind, and had not a word to say, though he
intended to say something witty. "Baa! "

"He is of no use! " said the Princess. "Away with him! "

And he was obliged to go accordingly. And now the second brother
came in.

"It is terribly warm here! " he observed.

"Yes, we're roasting pullets to-day," replied the Princess.

"What--what were you--were you pleased to ob-" stammered he--and
all the clerks wrote down, "pleased to ob-"

"He is of no use! " said the Princess. "Away with him! "

Now came the turn of Jack the Dullard. He rode into the hall on
his goat.

"Well, it's most abominably hot here. "

"Yes, because I'm roasting young pullets," replied the Princess.

"Ah, that's lucky! " exclaimed Jack the Dullard, "for I suppose
you'll let me roast my crow at the same time? "

"With the greatest pleasure," said the Princess. "But have you
anything you can roast it in? for I have neither pot nor pan. "

"Certainly I have! " said Jack. "Here's a cooking utensil with a
tin handle. "

And he brought out the old wooden shoe, and put the crow into it.

"Well, that is a famous dish! " said the Princess. "But what
shall we do for sauce? "

"Oh, I have that in my pocket," said Jack; "I have so much of it
that I can afford to throw some away;" and he poured some of the
clay out of his pocket.

"I like that! " said the Princess. "You can give an answer, and you
have something to say for yourself, and so you shall be my husband.
But are you aware that every word we speak is being taken down, and
will be published in the paper to-morrow? Look yonder, and you will
see in every window three clerks and a head clerk; and the old head
clerk is the worst of all, for he can't understand anything. "

But she only said this to frighten Jack the Dullard; and the
clerks gave a great crow of delight, and each one spurted a blot out
of his pen on to the floor.

"Oh, those are the gentlemen, are they? " said Jack; "then I will
give the best I have to the head clerk. " And he turned out his
pockets, and flung the wet clay full in the head clerk's face.

"That was very cleverly done," observed the Princess. "I could not
have done that; but I shall learn in time. "

And accordingly Jack the Dullard was made a king, and received a
crown and a wife, and sat upon a throne. And this report we have wet
from the press of the head clerk and the corporation of printers--but
they are not to be depended upon in the least.




THE DUMB BOOK

In the high-road which led through a wood stood a solitary
farm-house; the road, in fact, ran right through its yard. The sun was
shining and all the windows were open; within the house people were
very busy. In the yard, in an arbour formed by lilac bushes in full
bloom, stood an open coffin; thither they had carried a dead man,
who was to be buried that very afternoon. Nobody shed a tear over him;
his face was covered over with a white cloth, under his head they
had placed a large thick book, the leaves of which consisted of folded
sheets of blotting-paper, and withered flowers lay between them; it
was the herbarium which he had gathered in various places and was to
be buried with him, according to his own wish. Every one of the
flowers in it was connected with some chapter of his life.

"Who is the dead man? " we asked.

"The old student," was the reply. "They say that he was once an
energetic young man, that he studied the dead languages, and sang
and even composed many songs; then something had happened to him,
and in consequence of this he gave himself up to drink, body and mind.
When at last he had ruined his health, they brought him into the
country, where someone paid for his board and residence. He was gentle
as a child as long as the sullen mood did not come over him; but
when it came he was fierce, became as strong as a giant, and ran about
in the wood like a chased deer. But when we succeeded in bringing
him home, and prevailed upon him to open the book with the dried-up
plants in it, he would sometimes sit for a whole day looking at this
or that plant, while frequently the tears rolled over his cheeks.
God knows what was in his mind; but he requested us to put the book
into his coffin, and now he lies there. In a little while the lid will
be placed upon the coffin, and he will have sweet rest in the grave! "

The cloth which covered his face was lifted up; the dead man's
face expressed peace--a sunbeam fell upon it. A swallow flew with
the swiftness of an arrow into the arbour, turning in its flight,
and twittered over the dead man's head.

What a strange feeling it is--surely we all know it--to look
through old letters of our young days; a different life rises up out
of the past, as it were, with all its hopes and sorrows. How many of
the people with whom in those days we used to be on intimate terms
appear to us as if dead, and yet they are still alive--only we have
not thought of them for such a long time, whom we imagined we should
retain in our memories for ever, and share every joy and sorrow with
them.

The withered oak leaf in the book here recalled the friend, the
schoolfellow, who was to be his friend for life. He fixed the leaf
to the student's cap in the green wood, when they vowed eternal
friendship. Where does he dwell now? The leaf is kept, but the
friendship does no longer exist. Here is a foreign hothouse plant, too
tender for the gardens of the North. It is almost as if its leaves
still smelt sweet! She gave it to him out of her own garden--a
nobleman's daughter.

Here is a water-lily that he had plucked himself, and watered with
salt tears--a lily of sweet water. And here is a nettle: what may
its leaves tell us? What might he have thought when he plucked and
kept it? Here is a little snowdrop out of the solitary wood; here is
an evergreen from the flower-pot at the tavern; and here is a simple
blade of grass.

The lilac bends its fresh fragrant flowers over the dead man's
head; the swallow passes again--"twit, twit;" now the men come with
hammer and nails, the lid is placed over the dead man, while his
head rests on the dumb book--so long cherished, now closed for ever!




THE ELF OF THE ROSE

In the midst of a garden grew a rose-tree, in full blossom, and in
the prettiest of all the roses lived an elf. He was such a little
wee thing, that no human eye could see him. Behind each leaf of the
rose he had a sleeping chamber. He was as well formed and as beautiful
as a little child could be, and had wings that reached from his
shoulders to his feet. Oh, what sweet fragrance there was in his
chambers! and how clean and beautiful were the walls! for they were
the blushing leaves of the rose.

During the whole day he enjoyed himself in the warm sunshine, flew
from flower to flower, and danced on the wings of the flying
butterflies. Then he took it into his head to measure how many steps
he would have to go through the roads and cross-roads that are on
the leaf of a linden-tree.
What we call the veins on a leaf, he took
for roads; ay, and very long roads they were for him; for before he
had half finished his task, the sun went down: he had commenced his
work too late. It became very cold, the dew fell, and the wind blew;
so he thought the best thing he could do would be to return home. He
hurried himself as much as he could; but he found the roses all closed
up, and he could not get in; not a single rose stood open. The poor
little elf was very much frightened. He had never before been out at
night, but had always slumbered secretly behind the warm
rose-leaves. Oh, this would certainly be his death. At the other end
of the garden, he knew there was an arbor, overgrown with beautiful
honey-suckles. The blossoms looked like large painted horns; and he
thought to himself, he would go and sleep in one of these till the
morning. He flew thither; but "hush! " two people were in the arbor,--a
handsome young man and a beautiful lady. They sat side by side, and
wished that they might never be obliged to part. They loved each other
much more than the best child can love its father and mother.

"But we must part," said the young man; "your brother does not
like our engagement, and therefore he sends me so far away on
business, over mountains and seas. Farewell, my sweet bride; for so
you are to me. "

And then they kissed each other, and the girl wept, and gave him a
rose; but before she did so, she pressed a kiss upon it so fervently
that the flower opened. Then the little elf flew in, and leaned his
head on the delicate, fragrant walls. Here he could plainly hear
them say, "Farewell, farewell;" and he felt that the rose had been
placed on the young man's breast. Oh, how his heart did beat! The
little elf could not go to sleep, it thumped so loudly. The young
man took it out as he walked through the dark wood alone, and kissed
the flower so often and so violently, that the little elf was almost
crushed. He could feel through the leaf how hot the lips of the
young man were, and the rose had opened, as if from the heat of the
noonday sun.

There came another man, who looked gloomy and wicked. He was the
wicked brother of the beautiful maiden. He drew out a sharp knife, and
while the other was kissing the rose, the wicked man stabbed him to
death; then he cut off his head, and buried it with the body in the
soft earth under the linden-tree.

"Now he is gone, and will soon be forgotten," thought the wicked
brother; "he will never come back again. He was going on a long
journey over mountains and seas; it is easy for a man to lose his life
in such a journey. My sister will suppose he is dead; for he cannot
come back, and she will not dare to question me about him. "

Then he scattered the dry leaves over the light earth with his
foot, and went home through the darkness; but he went not alone, as he
thought,--the little elf accompanied him. He sat in a dry rolled-up
linden-leaf, which had fallen from the tree on to the wicked man's
head, as he was digging the grave. The hat was on the head now,
which made it very dark, and the little elf shuddered with fright
and indignation at the wicked deed.

It was the dawn of morning before the wicked man reached home;
he took off his hat, and went into his sister's room. There lay the
beautiful, blooming girl, dreaming of him whom she loved so, and who
was now, she supposed, travelling far away over mountain and sea.
Her wicked brother stopped over her, and laughed hideously, as
fiends only can laugh. The dry leaf fell out of his hair upon the
counterpane; but he did not notice it, and went to get a little
sleep during the early morning hours. But the elf slipped out of the
withered leaf, placed himself by the ear of the sleeping girl, and
told her, as in a dream, of the horrid murder; described the place
where her brother had slain her lover, and buried his body; and told
her of the linden-tree, in full blossom, that stood close by.

"That you may not think this is only a dream that I have told
you," he said, "you will find on your bed a withered leaf. "

Then she awoke, and found it there. Oh, what bitter tears she
shed! and she could not open her heart to any one for relief.

The window stood open the whole day, and the little elf could
easily have reached the roses, or any of the flowers; but he could not
find it in his heart to leave one so afflicted. In the window stood
a bush bearing monthly roses. He seated himself in one of the flowers,
and gazed on the poor girl. Her brother often came into the room,
and would be quite cheerful, in spite of his base conduct; so she dare
not say a word to him of her heart's grief.

As soon as night came on, she slipped out of the house, and went
into the wood, to the spot where the linden-tree stood; and after
removing the leaves from the earth, she turned it up, and there
found him who had been murdered. Oh, how she wept and prayed that
she also might die! Gladly would she have taken the body home with
her; but that was impossible; so she took up the poor head with the
closed eyes, kissed the cold lips, and shook the mould out of the
beautiful hair.

"I will keep this," said she; and as soon as she had covered the
body again with the earth and leaves, she took the head and a little
sprig of jasmine that bloomed in the wood, near the spot where he
was buried, and carried them home with her. As soon as she was in
her room, she took the largest flower-pot she could find, and in
this she placed the head of the dead man, covered it up with earth,
and planted the twig of jasmine in it.

"Farewell, farewell," whispered the little elf. He could not any
longer endure to witness all this agony of grief, he therefore flew
away to his own rose in the garden. But the rose was faded; only a few
dry leaves still clung to the green hedge behind it.

"Alas! how soon all that is good and beautiful passes away,"
sighed the elf.

After a while he found another rose, which became his home, for
among its delicate fragrant leaves he could dwell in safety. Every
morning he flew to the window of the poor girl, and always found her
weeping by the flower pot. The bitter tears fell upon the jasmine
twig, and each day, as she became paler and paler, the sprig
appeared to grow greener and fresher. One shoot after another sprouted
forth, and little white buds blossomed, which the poor girl fondly
kissed. But her wicked brother scolded her, and asked her if she was
going mad. He could not imagine why she was weeping over that
flower-pot, and it annoyed him. He did not know whose closed eyes were
there, nor what red lips were fading beneath the earth. And one day
she sat and leaned her head against the flower-pot, and the little elf
of the rose found her asleep. Then he seated himself by her ear,
talked to her of that evening in the arbor, of the sweet perfume of
the rose, and the loves of the elves. Sweetly she dreamed, and while
she dreamt, her life passed away calmly and gently, and her spirit was
with him whom she loved, in heaven. And the jasmine opened its large
white bells, and spread forth its sweet fragrance; it had no other way
of showing its grief for the dead. But the wicked brother considered
the beautiful blooming plant as his own property, left to him by his
sister, and he placed it in his sleeping room, close by his bed, for
it was very lovely in appearance, and the fragrance sweet and
delightful. The little elf of the rose followed it, and flew from
flower to flower, telling each little spirit that dwelt in them the
story of the murdered young man, whose head now formed part of the
earth beneath them, and of the wicked brother and the poor sister. "We
know it," said each little spirit in the flowers, "we know it, for
have we not sprung from the eyes and lips of the murdered one. We know
it, we know it," and the flowers nodded with their heads in a peculiar
manner. The elf of the rose could not understand how they could rest
so quietly in the matter, so he flew to the bees, who were gathering
honey, and told them of the wicked brother. And the bees told it to
their queen, who commanded that the next morning they should go and
kill the murderer. But during the night, the first after the
sister's death, while the brother was sleeping in his bed, close to
where he had placed the fragrant jasmine, every flower cup opened, and
invisibly the little spirits stole out, armed with poisonous spears.
They placed themselves by the ear of the sleeper, told him dreadful
dreams and then flew across his lips, and pricked his tongue with
their poisoned spears. "Now have we revenged the dead," said they, and
flew back into the white bells of the jasmine flowers. When the
morning came, and as soon as the window was opened, the rose elf, with
the queen bee, and the whole swarm of bees, rushed in to kill him. But
he was already dead. People were standing round the bed, and saying
that the scent of the jasmine had killed him. Then the elf of the rose
understood the revenge of the flowers, and explained it to the queen
bee, and she, with the whole swarm, buzzed about the flower-pot. The
bees could not be driven away. Then a man took it up to remove it, and
one of the bees stung him in the hand, so that he let the flower-pot
fall, and it was broken to pieces. Then every one saw the whitened
skull, and they knew the dead man in the bed was a murderer. And the
queen bee hummed in the air, and sang of the revenge of the flowers,
and of the elf of the rose and said that behind the smallest leaf
dwells One, who can discover evil deeds, and punish them also.




THE ELFIN HILL

A few large lizards were running nimbly about in the clefts of
an old tree; they could understand one another very well, for they
spoke the lizard language.

"What a buzzing and a rumbling there is in the elfin hill," said
one of the lizards; "I have not been able to close my eyes for two
nights on account of the noise; I might just as well have had the
toothache, for that always keeps me awake. "

"There is something going on within there," said the other lizard;
"they propped up the top of the hill with four red posts, till
cock-crow this morning, so that it is thoroughly aired, and the
elfin girls have learnt new dances; there is something. "

"I spoke about it to an earth-worm of my acquaintance," said a
third lizard; "the earth-worm had just come from the elfin hill, where
he has been groping about in the earth day and night. He has heard a
great deal; although he cannot see, poor miserable creature, yet he
understands very well how to wriggle and lurk about. They expect
friends in the elfin hill, grand company, too; but who they are the
earth-worm would not say, or, perhaps, he really did not know. All the
will-o'-the-wisps are ordered to be there to hold a torch dance, as it
is called. The silver and gold which is plentiful in the hill will
be polished and placed out in the moonlight. "

"Who can the strangers be? " asked the lizards; "what can the
matter be? Hark, what a buzzing and humming there is! "

Just at this moment the elfin hill opened, and an old elfin
maiden, hollow behind, came tripping out; she was the old elf king's
housekeeper, and a distant relative of the family; therefore she
wore an amber heart on the middle of her forehead. Her feet moved very
fast, "trip, trip;" good gracious, how she could trip right down to
the sea to the night-raven.

"You are invited to the elf hill for this evening," said she; "but
will you do me a great favor and undertake the invitations? you
ought to do something, for you have no housekeeping to attend to as
I have. We are going to have some very grand people, conjurors, who
have always something to say; and therefore the old elf king wishes to
make a great display. "

"Who is to be invited? " asked the raven.

"All the world may come to the great ball, even human beings, if
they can only talk in their sleep, or do something after our
fashion. But for the feast the company must be carefully selected;
we can only admit persons of high rank; I have had a dispute myself
with the elf king, as he thought we could not admit ghosts. The merman
and his daughter must be invited first, although it may not be
agreeable to them to remain so long on dry land, but they shall have a
wet stone to sit on, or perhaps something better; so I think they will
not refuse this time. We must have all the old demons of the first
class, with tails, and the hobgoblins and imps; and then I think we
ought not to leave out the death-horse, or the grave-pig, or even
the church dwarf, although they do belong to the clergy, and are not
reckoned among our people; but that is merely their office, they are
nearly related to us, and visit us very frequently. "

"Croak," said the night-raven as he flew away with the
invitations.

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.