a christmas greeting

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A Christmas Greeting: A Series of Stories By Hans Christian Andersen

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AChristmasGreeting:ASeriesofStories

By

HansChristianAndersen

THEOLDHOUSE.

Inthestreet,upthere,wasanold,averyoldhouse,—itwasalmostthreehundred years old, for that might be known by reading the great beam onwhichthedateoftheyearwascarved:togetherwithtulipsandhop-bindstherewerewholeversesspelledas informer times,andovereverywindowwasadistorted facecutout in thebeam.Theonestory stood forwardagreatwayovertheother;anddirectlyundertheeaveswasaleadenspoutwithadragon'shead; the rain-water shouldhave runout of themouth, but it ranout of thebelly,fortherewasaholeinthespout.

All the other houses in the street were so new and so neat, with largewindow-panes and smoothwalls, one could easily see that theywouldhavenothingtodowiththeoldhouse:theycertainlythought,"Howlongisthatolddecayed thing to stand here as a spectacle in the street? And then theprotectingwindows stand so farout, thatnoone can see fromourwindowswhathappensinthatdirection!Thestepsareasbroadasthoseofapalace,andashighastoachurchtower.Theironrailingslookjustlikethedoortoanoldfamilyvault,andthentheyhavebrasstops,—that'ssostupid!"

On the other side of the streetwere also new and neat houses, and theythoughtjustastheothersdid;butatthewindowoppositetheoldhousetheresata littleboywith fresh rosycheeksandbrightbeamingeyes:hecertainlylikedtheoldhousebest,andthatbothinsunshineandmoonshine.Andwhenhelookedacrossatthewallwherethemortarhadfallenout,hecouldsitandfind out there the strangest figures imaginable; exactly as the street hadappearedbefore,withsteps,projectingwindows,andpointedgables;hecouldseesoldierswithhalberds,andspoutswhere thewater ran, likedragonsandserpents.Thatwasahousetolookat;andtherelivedanoldman,whoworeplushbreeches;andhehadacoatwithlargebrassbuttons,andawigthatonecouldseewasarealwig.Everymorningtherecameanoldfellowtohimwhoput his rooms in order, andwent on errands; otherwise, the oldman in theplushbreecheswasquitealoneintheoldhouse.Nowandthenhecametothewindow and looked out, and the little boy nodded to him, and the oldmannoddedagain,andsotheybecameacquaintances,andthentheywerefriends,althoughtheyhadneverspokentoeachother,—butthatmadenodifference.The littleboyheardhisparents say, "Theoldmanopposite isverywelloff,butheissovery,verylonely!"

TheSundayfollowing,thelittleboytooksomething,andwrappeditupinapieceofpaper,wentdownstairs,andstood in thedoorway;andwhen themanwhowentonerrandscamepast,hesaidtohim—

"Isay,master!willyougivethistotheoldmanoverthewayfromme?Ihavetwopewtersoldiers—thisisoneofthem,andheshallhaveit,forIknowheissovery,verylonely."

Andtheolderrandmanlookedquitepleased,nodded,andtookthepewtersoldierovertotheoldhouse.Afterwardstherecameamessage;itwastoaskifthelittleboyhimselfhadnotawishtocomeoverandpayavisit;andsohegotpermissionofhisparents,andthenwentovertotheoldhouse.

Andthebrassballsontheironrailingsshonemuchbrighterthanever;onewouldhavethoughttheywerepolishedonaccountofthevisit;anditwasasifthe carved-out trumpeters—for there were trumpeters, who stood in tulips,carvedouton thedoor—blewwithall theirmight, their cheeksappeared somuch rounder thanbefore.Yes, theyblew—"Trateratra! the littleboycomestrateratra!"—andthenthedooropened.

Thewholepassagewashungwithportraitsofknightsinarmor,andladiesinsilkengowns;andthearmorrattled,andthesilkengownsrustled!Andthentherewasaflightofstairswhichwentagoodwayupwards,andalittlewaydownwards,andthenonecameonabalconywhichwasinaverydilapidatedstate,sureenough,withlargeholesandlongcrevices,butgrassgrewthereandleavesoutofthemaltogether,forthewholebalconyoutside,theyard,andthewalls,wereovergrownwithsomuchgreenstuff,thatitlookedlikeagarden;but itwas only a balcony.Here stood old flower-potswith faces and asses'ears,andtheflowersgrewjustastheyliked.Oneofthepotswasquiteoverrunonallsideswithpinks,thatistosay,withthegreenpart;shootstoodbyshoot,anditsaidquitedistinctly,"Theairhascherishedme,thesunhaskissedme,andpromisedmealittlefloweronSunday!—alittlefloweronSunday!"

Andthentheyenteredachamberwherethewallswerecovered,withhog'sleather,andprintedwithgoldflowers.

"Thegildingdecays,Buthog'sleatherstays!"

saidthewalls.

Andtherestoodeasychairs,withsuchhighbacks,andsocarvedout,andwitharmsonbothsides."Sitdown!sitdown!"saidthey."Ugh!howIcreak;nowIshallcertainlygetthegout,liketheoldclothes-press,ugh!"

Andthenthelittleboycameintotheroomwheretheprojectingwindowswere,andwheretheoldmansat.

"Ithankyouforthepewtersoldier,mylittlefriend!"saidtheoldman,"andIthankyoubecauseyoucomeovertome."

"Thankee! thankee!"or"cranky!cranky!"soundedfromall thefurniture;therewassomuchofit,thateacharticlestoodintheother'sway,togetalook

atthelittleboy.

In themiddleof thewallhungapicture representingabeautiful lady,soyoung, soglad,butdressedquiteas in former times,withclothes that stoodquite stiff, andwithpowder inherhair; sheneither said"thankee, thankee!"nor "cranky, cranky!" but looked with her mild eyes at the little boy, whodirectlyaskedtheoldman,"Wheredidyougether?"

"Yonder, at the broker's," said the old man, "where there are so manypictureshanging.Nooneknowsorcaresaboutthem,fortheyareallofthemburied;butIknewherinby-gonedays,andnowshehasbeendeadandgonethesefiftyyears!"

Under the picture, in a glazed frame, there hung a bouquet of witheredflowers;theywerealmostfiftyyearsold;theylookedsoveryold!

Thependulumofthegreatclockwenttoandfro,andthehandsturned,andeverythingintheroombecamestillolder;buttheydidnotobserveit.

"Theysayathome,"saidthelittleboy,"thatyouaresovery,verylonely!"

"Oh!" said he, "the old thoughts, with what they may bring with them,comeandvisitme,andnowyoualsocome!Iamverywelloff!"

Thenhe tookabookwithpictures in it down from the shelf; therewerewholelongprocessionsandpageants,withthestrangestcharacters,whichonenever sees now-a-days; soldiers like the knave of clubs, and citizens withwavingflags:thetailorshadtheirs,withapairofshearsheldbytwolions,—and the shoemakers theirs, without boots, but with an eagle that had twoheads, for the shoemakersmusthaveeverything so that theycan say, it is apair!—Yes,thatwasapicturebook!

Theoldmannowwentintotheotherroomtofetchpreserves,apples,andnuts;—yes,itwasdelightfuloverthereintheoldhouse.

"I cannot bear it any longer!" said the pewter soldier, who sat on thedrawers; "it is so lonely andmelancholy here! butwhen one has been in afamily circle one cannot accustom oneself to this life! I cannot bear it anylonger! thewholeday isso long,and theeveningsarestill longer!here it isnot at all as it is over thewayat yourhome,whereyour father andmotherspokesopleasantly,andwhereyouandallyoursweetchildrenmadesuchadelightfulnoise.Nay,howlonelytheoldmanis!—doyouthinkthathegetskisses? do you think he gets mild eyes, or a Christmas tree?—He will getnothingbutagrave.—Icanbearitnolonger!"

"Youmustnotletitgrieveyousomuch,"saidthelittleboy;"Ifinditsoverydelightfulhere,andthenalltheoldthoughts,withwhattheymaybringwiththem,theycomeandvisithere."

"Yes,it'sallverywell,butIseenothingofthem,andIdon'tknowthem!"saidthepewtersoldier,"Icannotbearit!"

"Butyoumust!"saidthelittleboy.

Thenincametheoldmanwiththemostpleasedandhappyface,themostdelicious preserves, apples, and nuts, and so the little boy thought nomoreaboutthepewtersoldier.

The little boy returned home happy and pleased, and weeks and dayspassedaway,andnodsweremade to theoldhouse,andfromtheoldhouse,andthenthelittleboywentoverthereagain.

Thecarvedtrumpetersblew,"trateratra!thereisthelittleboy!trateratra!"andtheswordsandarmorontheknights'portraitsrattled,andthesilkgownsrustled; thehog's-leather spoke,and theoldchairshad thegout in their legsand rheumatism in their backs:Ugh!—itwas exactly like the first time, foroverthereonedayandhourwasjustlikeanother.

"Icannotbearit!"saidthepewtersoldier,"Ihaveshedpewtertears!it istoomelancholy!ratherletmegotothewarsandlosearmsandlegs!itwouldatleastbeachange.Icannotbearitlonger!—Now,Iknowwhatitistohaveavisitfromone'soldthoughts,withwhattheymaybringwiththem!Ihavehadavisitfrommine,andyoumaybesureitisnopleasantthingintheend;Iwasatlastabouttojumpdownfromthedrawers.

"Isawyoualloverthereathomesodistinctly,asifyoureallywerehere;itwas again that Sundaymorning; all you children stood before the table andsungyourPsalms,asyoudoeverymorning.Youstooddevoutlywithfoldedhands; and father and mother were just as pious; and then the door wasopened,andlittlesisterMary,whoisnot twoyearsoldyet,andwhoalwaysdanceswhenshehearsmusicorsinging,ofwhateverkinditmaybe,wasputintotheroom—thoughsheoughtnottohavebeenthere—andthenshebegantodance,butcouldnotkeep time,because the toneswereso long;and thenshe stood, first on theone leg, andbentherhead forwards, and thenon theotherleg,andbentherheadforwards—butallwouldnotdo.Youstoodveryseriously all together, although it was difficult enough; but I laughed tomyself,andthenIfelloffthetable,andgotabump,whichIhavestill—foritwasnot rightofme to laugh.But thewholenowpassesbeforemeagain inthought,andeverythingthatIhavelivedtosee;andthesearetheoldthoughts,withwhattheymaybringwiththem.

"TellmeifyoustillsingonSundays?TellmesomethingaboutlittleMary!andhowmycomrade,theotherpewtersoldier,lives!Yes,heishappyenough,that'ssure!Icannotbearitanylonger!"

"Youaregivenawayasapresent!"saidthelittleboy;"youmustremain.

Canyounotunderstandthat?"

Theoldmannowcamewithadrawer,inwhichtherewasmuchtobeseen,both"tinboxes"and"balsamboxes,"oldcards,solargeandsogilded,suchasone never sees themnow.And several drawerswere opened, and the pianowasopened; it had landscapeson the insideof the lid, and itwas sohoarsewhentheoldmanplayedonit!andthenhehummedasong.

"Yes, she could sing that!" saidhe, andnodded to theportrait,whichhehadboughtatthebroker's,andtheoldman'seyesshonesobright!

"Iwillgotothewars!Iwillgotothewars!"shoutedthepewtersoldierasloudashecould,andthrewhimselfoffthedrawersrightdownonthefloor.

Whatbecameofhim?Theoldman sought, and the littleboy sought; hewasaway,andhestayedaway.

"Ishallfindhim!"saidtheoldman;butheneverfoundhim.Thefloorwastooopen—thepewtersoldierhadfallenthroughacrevice,andtherehelayasinanopentomb.

Thatdaypassed,andthelittleboywenthome,andthatweekpassed,andseveralweekstoo.Thewindowswerequitefrozen,thelittleboywasobligedtositandbreatheonthemtogetapeep-holeovertotheoldhouse,andtherethesnowhadbeenblownintoallthecarvedworkandinscriptions;itlayquiteupoverthesteps,justasiftherewasnooneathome;—norwasthereanyoneathome—theoldmanwasdead!

Intheeveningtherewasahearseseenbeforethedoor,andhewasborneintoitinhiscoffin:hewasnowtogooutintothecountry,tolieinhisgrave.Hewasdrivenout there,butnoonefollowed;allhisfriendsweredead,andthelittleboykissedhishandtothecoffinasitwasdrivenaway.

Somedaysafterwardstherewasanauctionattheoldhouse,andthelittleboysawfromhiswindowhowtheycarriedtheoldknightsandtheoldladiesaway, the flower-potswith the longears, theoldchairs,and theoldclothes-presses.Somethingcamehere,andsomethingcamethere; theportraitofherwhohad been found at the broker's came to the broker's again; and there ithung,fornooneknewhermore—noonecaredabouttheoldpicture.

Inthespringtheypulledthehousedown,for,aspeoplesaid,itwasaruin.One could see from the street right into the room with the hog's-leatherhanging,whichwasslashedandtorn;andthegreengrassandleavesaboutthebalcony hung quite wild about the falling beams.—And then it was put torights.

"Thatwasarelief,"saidtheneighboringhouses.

Afinehousewasbuiltthere,withlargewindows,andsmoothwhitewalls;

butbefore it,where theoldhousehad in fact stood,wasa littlegarden laidout,andawildgrapevineranupthewalloftheneighboringhouse.Beforethegarden there was a large iron railing with an iron door, it looked quitesplendid, and people stood still and peeped in, and the sparrows hung byscoresinthevine,andchatteredawayateachotheraswellastheycould,butitwasnotabouttheoldhouse,fortheycouldnotrememberit,somanyyearshadpassed,—somanythatthelittleboyhadgrownuptoawholeman,yes,acleverman,andapleasuretohisparents;andhehadjustbeenmarried,and,togetherwith his littlewife, had come to live in the house here, where thegardenwas; andhe stoodbyher therewhilst sheplanteda field-flower thatshefoundsopretty;sheplanted itwithher littlehand,andpressed theeartharounditwithherfingers.Oh!whatwasthat?Shehadstuckherself.Theresatsomethingpointed,straightoutofthesoftmould.

Itwas——yes,guess!—itwasthepewtersoldier,hethatwaslostupattheold man's, and had tumbled and turned about amongst the timber and therubbish,andhadatlastlaidformanyyearsintheground.

Theyoungwifewipedthedirtoff thesoldier,firstwithagreenleaf,andthenwithherfinehandkerchief—ithadsuchadelightfulsmell,thatitwastothepewtersoldierjustasifhehadawakedfromatrance.

"Letme see him," said the youngman.He laughed, and then shook hishead. "Nay, it cannot be he; but he reminds me of a story about a pewtersoldierwhichIhadwhenIwasalittleboy!"Andthenhetoldhiswifeabouttheoldhouse,andtheoldman,andaboutthepewtersoldierthathesentovertohimbecausehewassovery,verylonely;andhetolditascorrectlyasithadreallybeen,sothatthetearscameintotheeyesofhisyoungwife,onaccountoftheoldhouseandtheoldman.

"Itmaypossiblybe,however,thatitisthesamepewtersoldier!"saidshe,"Iwilltakecareofit,andrememberallthatyouhavetoldme;butyoumustshowmetheoldman'sgrave!"

"ButIdonotknowit,"saidhe,"andnooneknowsit!allhisfriendsweredead,noonetookcareofit,andIwasthenalittleboy!"

"Howvery,verylonelyhemusthavebeen!"saidshe.

"Very,verylonely!"saidthepewtersoldier;"butit isdelightfulnottobeforgotten!"

"Delightful!" shouted something close by; but no one, except the pewtersoldier,sawthatitwasapieceofthehog's-leatherhangings;ithadlostallitsgilding,itlookedlikeapieceofwetclay,butithadanopinion,anditgaveit:

"Thegildingdecays,Buthog'sleatherstays!"

Thisthepewtersoldierdidnotbelieve.

THEDROPOFWATER.

What a magnifying glass is, you surely know—such a round sort ofspectacle-glassthatmakeseverythingfullahundredtimeslargerthanitreallyis.Whenoneholdsitbeforetheeye,andlooksatadropofwateroutofthepond,thenoneseesaboveathousandstrangecreatures.Itlooksalmostlikeawholeplatefulofshrimpsspringingaboutamongeachother,andtheyaresoravenous, they tearoneanother'sarmsandlegs, tailsandsides,andyet theyaregladandpleasedintheirway.

Now, therewasonce anoldman,whowas calledbyeverybodyCreep-and-Crawl; for that was his name. He would always make the best out ofeverything, and when he could not make anything out of it he resorted towitchcraft.

Now, one day he sat and held hismagnifying glass before his eye, andlookedatadropofwaterthatwastakenoutofalittlepoolintheditch.Whatacreepingandcrawlingwasthere!allthethousandsofsmallcreatureshoppedandjumpedabout,pulledoneanother,andpeckedoneanother.

"Butthisisabominable!"saidCreep-and-Crawl,"Canonenotgetthemtoliveinpeaceandquiet,andeachmindhisownbusiness?"Andhethoughtandthought, but he could come to no conclusion, and so he was obliged toconjure."Imustgive themacolor, that theymaybemorediscernible!"saidhe;andsohepouredsomethinglikealittledropofredwineintothedropofwater,butitwasbewitchedbloodfromthelobeoftheear—theveryfinestsortforapenny;and thenall thestrangecreaturesbecamerose-coloredover thewholebody.Itlookedlikeawholetownofnakedsavages.

"What have you got there?" said another oldwizard,who had no name,andthatwasjustthebestofit.

"Why,"saidCreep-and-Crawl,"ifyoucanguesswhatitis,Iwillmakeyouapresentofit;butitisnotsoeasytofindoutwhenonedoesnotknowit!"

The wizard who had no name looked through the magnifying glass. Itactually appeared like a whole town, where all the inhabitants ran aboutwithout clothes! it was terrible, but still more terrible to see how the oneknocked and pushed the other, bit each other, and drew one another about.What was undermost should be topmost, and what was topmost should beundermost!—See there, now! his leg is longer thanmine!—whip it off, andawaywithit!Thereisonethathasalittlelumpbehindtheear,alittleinnocent

lump,butitpainshim,andsoitshallpainhimstillmore!Andtheypeckedatit, and theydraggedhimabout, and they ate him, and all on account of thelittle lump.Theresatoneasstillasa littlemaid,whoonlywishedforpeaceand quietness, but shemust be brought out and they dragged her, and theypulledher,andtheydevouredher!

"Itisquiteamusing!"saidthewizard.

"Yes;butwhatdoyouthinkitis?"askedCreep-and-Crawl."Canyoufinditout!"

"It is very easy to see," said the other, "it is some great city, they allresembleeachother.Agreatcityitis,that'ssure!"

"Itisditch-water!"saidCreep-and-Crawl.

THEHAPPYFAMILY.

Really,thelargestgreenleafinthiscountryisadock-leaf;ifoneholdsitbeforeone,itislikeawholeapron,andifoneholdsitoverone'sheadinrainyweather,itisalmostasgoodasanumbrella,foritissoimmenselylarge.Theburdock never grows alone, but where there grows one there always growseveral:itisagreatdelight,andallthisdelightfulnessissnails'food.Thegreatwhitesnailswhichpersonsofqualityinformertimesmadefricasseesof,ate,andsaid,"Hem,hem!howdelicious!"fortheythoughtittastedsodelicate—livedondockleaves,andthereforeburdockseedsweresown.

Now,therewasanoldmanor-house,wheretheynolongeratesnails,theywerequiteextinct;buttheburdockswerenotextinct,theygrewandgrewalloverthewalksandallthebeds;theycouldnotgetthemasteryoverthem—itwasawholeforestofburdocks.Hereandtherestoodanappleandaplumb-tree, or else one never would have thought that it was a garden; all wasburdocks,andtherelivedthetwolastvenerableoldsnails.

They themselvesknewnothowold theywere,but theycould rememberverywell that there had beenmanymore; that theywere of a family fromforeignlands,andthatforthemandtheirsthewholeforestwasplanted.Theyhadneverbeenoutsideit,buttheyknewthattherewasstillsomethingmoreintheworld,whichwascalledthemanor-house,andthattheretheywereboiled,andthentheybecameblack,andwerethenplacedonasilverdish;butwhathappenedfurthertheyknewnot;or,infact,whatitwastobeboiled,andtolieon a silver dish, they could not possibly imagine; but it was said to bedelightful, and particularly genteel. Neither the chafers, the toads, nor theearth-worms,whom theyaskedabout it couldgive themany information,—

noneofthemhadbeenboiledorlaidonasilverdish.

Theoldwhitesnailswerethefirstpersonsofdistinctionintheworld,thatthey knew; the forest was planted for their sake, and themanor-house wastherethattheymightbeboiledandlaidonasilverdish.

Nowtheylivedaverylonelyandhappylife;andastheyhadnochildrenthemselves,theyhadadoptedalittlecommonsnail,whichtheybroughtupastheirown;butthelittleonewouldnotgrow,forhewasofacommonfamily;but theoldones, especiallyDameMotherSnail, thought theycouldobservehowheincreasedinsize,andshebeggedfather,ifhecouldnotseeit,thathewouldatleastfeelthelittlesnail'sshell;andthenhefeltit,andfoundthegooddamewasright.

Onedaytherewasaheavystormofrain.

"Hearhowitbeatslikeadrumonthedockleaves!"saidFatherSnail.

"There are also rain-drops!" saidMother Snail; "and now the rain poursrightdownthestalk!Youwillseethatitwillbewethere!Iamveryhappytothink thatwe have our goodhouse, and the little one has his also!There ismoredoneforusthanforallothercreatures,sureenough;butcanyounotseethatwearefolksofqualityintheworld?Weareprovidedwithahousefromourbirth,andtheburdockforestisplantedforoursakes!Ishouldliketoknowhowfaritextends,andwhatthereisoutside!"

"There isnothingat all," saidFatherSnail. "Noplace canbebetter thanours,andIhavenothingtowishfor!"

"Yes,"saidthedame."Iwouldwillinglygotothemanor-house,beboiled,and laid on a silver dish; all our forefathers have been treated so; there issomethingextraordinaryinit,youmaybesure!"

"Themanor-househasmostlikelyfallentoruin!"saidFatherSnail."ortheburdockshavegrownupoverit,sothattheycannotcomeout.Thereneednot,however, be any haste about that; but you are always in such a tremendoushurry,andthelittleoneisbeginningtobethesame.Hashenotbeencreepingupthatstalkthesethreedays?ItgivesmeaheadachewhenIlookuptohim!"

"Youmustnotscoldhim,"saidMotherSnail;"hecreepssocarefully;hewillaffordusmuchpleasure—andwehavenothingbuthimto livefor!Buthaveyounotthoughtofit?—whereshallwegetawifeforhim?Doyounotthinkthattherearesomeofourspeciesatagreatdistanceintheinterioroftheburdockforest?"

"Black snails, I dare say, there are enoughof," said the old one—"blacksnailswithout a house—but they are so common, and so conceited.Butwemightgivetheantsacommissiontolookoutforus;theyruntoandfroasif

they had something to do, and they certainly know of a wife for our littlesnail!"

"Iknowone,sureenough—themostcharmingone!"saidoneoftheants;"butIamafraidweshallhardlysucceed,forsheisaqueen!"

"Thatisnothing!"saidtheoldfolks;"hassheahouse?"

"She has a palace!" said the ant—"the finest ant's palace, with sevenhundredpassages!"

"Ithankyou!"saidMotherSnail;"oursonshallnotgointoanant-hill;ifyouknownothingbetterthanthat,weshallgivethecommissiontothewhitegnats.Theyflyfarandwide,inrainandsunshine;theyknowthewholeforesthere,bothwithinandwithout."

"Wehaveawifeforhim,"saidthegnats;"atahundredhumanpacesfromhere there sits a little snail in her house, on a gooseberry bush; she is quitelonely,andoldenoughtobemarried.Itisonlyahundredhumanpaces!"

"Well,then,lethercometohim!"saidtheoldones;"hehasawholeforestofburdocks,shehasonlyabush!"

AndsotheywentandfetchedlittleMissSnail.Itwasawholeweekbeforeshearrived;butthereinwasjusttheverybestofit,foronecouldthusseethatshewasofthesamespecies.

And then themarriagewascelebrated.Sixearth-wormsshoneaswellastheycould.Inotherrespectsthewholewentoffveryquietly,fortheoldfolkscould not bear noise and merriment; but old Dame Snail made a brilliantspeech.FatherSnailcouldnotspeak,hewastoomuchaffected;andsotheygavethemasadowryandinheritance,thewholeforestofburdocks,andsaid—what theyhad always said—that itwas thebest in theworld; and if theylived honestly and decently, and increased and multiplied, they and theirchildrenwouldonceinthecourseoftimecometothemanor-house,beboiledblack,andlaidonsilverdishes.Afterthisspeechwasmade,theoldonescreptinto their shells, and never more came out. They slept; the young couplegoverned in the forest, and had a numerous progeny, but they were neverboiled,andnevercameonthesilverdishes;sofromthistheyconcludedthatthemanor-househad fallen to ruins, and that all themen in theworldwereextinct;andasnoonecontradictedthem,so,ofcourseitwasso.Andtherainbeatonthedock-leavestomakedrum-musicfortheirsake,andthesunshoneinordertogivetheburdockforestacolorfortheirsakes;andtheywereveryhappy,andthewholefamilywashappy;forthey,indeedwereso.

THESTORYOFAMOTHER

Amothersattherewithherlittlechild.Shewassodowncast,soafraidthatitshoulddie!Itwassopale,thesmalleyeshadclosedthemselves,anditdrewitsbreathsosoftly,nowandthen,withadeeprespiration,asifitsighed;andthemotherlookedstillmoresorrowfullyonthelittlecreature.

Then a knocking was heard at the door, and in came a poor old, manwrappedupasinalargehorse-cloth,foritwarmsone,andheneededit,asitwasthecoldwinterseason!Everythingoutofdoorswascoveredwithiceandsnow,andthewindblewsothatitcuttheface.

Astheoldmantrembledwithcold,andthelittlechildsleptamoment,themotherwent and poured some ale into a pot and set it on the stove, that itmightbewarmforhim;theoldmansatandrockedthecradle,andthemothersatdownonachairclosebyhim,andlookedatherlittlesickchildthatdrewitsbreathsodeep,andraiseditslittlehand.

"DoyounotthinkthatIshallsavehim?"saidshe,"OurLordwillnottakehimfromme!"

Andtheoldman,—itwasDeathhimself,—henoddedsostrangely,itcouldjustaswellsignifyyesasno.Andthemotherlookeddowninherlap,andthetears ran down over her cheeks; her head became so heavy—she had notclosedher eyes for threedaysandnights; andnowshe slept, butonly for aminute,whenshestartedupandtrembledwithcold:"Whatisthat?"saidshe,and looked on all sides; but the oldmanwas gone, and her little childwasgone—hehad taken itwithhim;and theoldclock in thecornerburred,andburred, the great leaden weight ran down to the floor, bump! and then theclockalsostoodstill.

Butthepoormotherranoutofthehouseandcriedaloudforherchild.

Out there, in the midst of the snow, there sat a woman in long, blackclothes;andshesaid,"Deathhasbeeninthychamber,andIsawhimhastenawaywith thy littlechild;hegoes faster than thewind,andheneverbringsbackwhathetakes!"

"Oh,onlytellmewhichwayhewent!"saidthemother:"Tellmetheway,andIshallfindhim!"

"Iknowit!"saidthewomanintheblackclothes,"butbeforeItellit,thoumustfirstsingformeallthesongsthouhastsungforthychild!—Iamfondofthem;Ihaveheardthembefore;IamNight;Isawthytearswhilstthousang'stthem!"

"Iwill sing themall, all!" said themother; "butdonot stopmenow;—I

mayovertakehim—Imayfindmychild!"

ButNightstoodstillandmute.Thenthemotherwrungherhands,sangandwept, and thereweremany songs, but yetmanymore tears; and thenNightsaid, "Go to the right, into thedarkpine forest; thither I sawDeath takehiswaywiththylittlechild!"

Theroadscrossedeachotherinthedepthsoftheforest,andshenolongerknewwhithersheshouldgo;thentherestoodathorn-bush;therewasneitherleafnorfloweronit,itwasalsointhecoldwinterseason,andice-flakeshungonthebranches.

"HastthounotseenDeathgopastwithmylittlechild?"saidthemother.

"Yes," said the thorn-bush; "but I will not tell thee which way he took,unlessthouwiltfirstwarmmeupatthyheart.Iamfreezingtodeath;Ishallbecomealumpofice!"

And she pressed the thorn-bush to her breast, so firmly, that itmight bethoroughlywarmed, and the thornswent right into her flesh, and her bloodflowed in large drops, but the thorn-bush shot forth fresh green leaves, andthere came flowers on it in the cold winter night, the heart of the afflictedmotherwassowarm;andthethorn-bushtoldherthewaysheshouldgo.

Shethencametoalargelake,wheretherewasneithershipnorboat.Thelake was not frozen sufficiently to bear her; neither was it open, nor lowenoughthatshecouldwadethroughit;andacrossitshemustgoifshewouldfind her child! Then she lay down to drink up the lake, and that was animpossibility for a human being, but the afflicted mother thought that amiraclemighthappennevertheless.

"Oh, what would I not give to come to my child!" said the weepingmother;andsheweptstillmore,andhereyessunkdowninthedepthsofthewaters,andbecametwopreciouspearls;butthewaterboreherup,asifshesatinaswing,andsheflewintherockingwavestotheshoreontheoppositeside,where there stood a mile-broad, strange house, one knew not if it were amountainwithforestsandcaverns,orifitwerebuiltup;butthepoormothercouldnotseeit;shehadwepthereyesout.

"WhereshallIfindDeath,whotookawaymylittlechild?"saidshe.

"Hehasnotcomehereyet!"saidtheoldgravewoman,whowasappointedtolookafterDeath'sgreatgreenhouse!"Howhaveyoubeenable tofindthewayhither?andwhohashelpedyou?"

"OurLordhashelpedme,"saidshe."Heismerciful,andyouwillalsobeso!WhereshallIfindmylittlechild?"

"Nay, I knownot," said thewoman, "andyoucannot see!Many flowers

andtreeshavewitheredthisnight;Deathwillsooncomeandplantthemoveragain!Youcertainlyknowthateverypersonhashisorherlife'streeorflower,justaseveryonehappens tobe settled; they look likeotherplants,but theyhave pulsations of the heart.Children's hearts can also beat; go after yours,perhapsyoumayknowyourchild's;butwhatwillyougiveme if I tellyouwhatyoushalldomore?"

"I have nothing to give," said the afflictedmother, "but Iwill go to theworld'sendforyou!"

"Nay,Ihavenothingtodothere!"saidthewoman,"butyoucangivemeyour long black hair; you knowyourself that it is fine, and that I like!Youshallhavemywhitehairinstead!andthat'salwayssomething!"

"Doyoudemandnothingelse?" saidshe,—"that Iwillgladlygiveyou!"Andshegaveherherfineblackhair,andgottheoldwoman'ssnow-whitehairinstead.

SotheywentintoDeath'sgreatgreenhouse,whereflowersandtreesgrewstrangely intooneanother.There stood finehyacinthsunderglassbells, andtherestoodstrong-stemmedpeonies; theregrewwaterplants, someso fresh,othershalfsick,thewater-snakeslaydownonthem,andblackcrabspinchedtheirstalks.Therestoodbeautifulpalm-trees,oaks,andplantains;therestoodparsleyandfloweringthyme:everytreeandeveryflowerhaditsname;eachof themwas a human life, the human frame still lived—one in China, andanother in Greenland—round about in the world. There were large trees insmallpots,sothattheystoodsostuntedingrowth,andreadytoburstthepots;inotherplaces, therewasalittledullflowerinrichmould,withmossroundaboutit,anditwassopettedandnursed.Butthedistressedmotherbentdownoverallthesmallestplants,andheardwithinthemhowthehumanheartbeat;andamongstmillionssheknewherchild's.

"There it is!" cried she, and stretched her hands out over a little bluecrocus,thathungquitesicklyononeside.

"Don'ttouchtheflower!"saidtheoldwoman,"butplaceyourselfhere,andwhenDeathcomes,—Iexpecthimeverymoment,—donotlethimplucktheflowerup,butthreatenhimthatyouwilldothesamewiththeothers.Thenhewill be afraid! he is responsible for them toOurLord, and no one dares topluckthemupbeforeHegivesleave."

Allatonceanicycoldrushedthroughthegreathall,andtheblindmothercouldfeelthatitwasDeaththatcame.

"Howhastthoubeenabletofindthywayhither?"heasked."HowcouldstthoucomequickerthanI?"

"Iamamother,"saidshe.

AndDeath stretchedouthis longhand towards the fine little flower, butshe held her hands fast around his, so tight, and yet afraid that she shouldtouchoneoftheleaves.ThenDeathblewonherhands,andshefeltthatitwascolderthanthecoldwind,andherhandsfelldownpowerless.

"Thoucanstnotdoanythingagainstme!"saidDeath.

"ButthatOurLordcan!"saidshe.

"I only do His bidding!" said Death. "I amHis gardener, I take all Hisflowersand trees, andplant themout in thegreatgardenofParadise, in theunknown land; but how they grow there, and how it is there I dare not tellthee."

"Givemebackmychild!" said themother, andsheweptandprayed.Atonceshe seizedholdof twobeautiful flowerscloseby,witheachhand,andcriedouttoDeath,"Iwilltearallthyflowersoff,forIamindespair."

"Touchthemnot!"saidDeath."Thousay'st that thouartsounhappy,andnowthouwiltmakeanothermotherequallyunhappy."

"Anothermother!" said the poorwoman, and directly let go her hold ofboththeflowers.

"There,thouhastthineeyes,"saidDeath;"Ifishedthemupfromthelake,theyshonesobright; Iknewnot theywere thine.Take themagain, theyarenowbrighterthanbefore;nowlookdownintothedeepwellcloseby;Ishalltelltheethenamesofthetwoflowersthouwouldsthavetornup,andthouwiltsee theirwholefuture life—theirwholehumanexistence:andseewhat thouwastabouttodisturbanddestroy."

Andshelookeddownintothewell;anditwasahappinesstoseehowtheonebecameablessingtotheworld,toseehowmuchhappinessandjoywerefelteverywhere.Andshesawtheother'slife,anditwassorrowanddistress,horror,andwretchedness.

"BothofthemareGod'swill!"saidDeath.

"WhichofthemisMisfortune'sflower?andwhichisthatofHappiness?"askedshe.

"ThatIwillnottellthee,"saidDeath;"butthisthoushaltknowfromme,thattheoneflowerwasthyownchild!itwasthychild'sfatethousaw'st,—thyownchild'sfuturelife!"

Thenthemotherscreamedwithterror,"Whichofthemwasmychild?Tellitme! save the innocent! savemy child from all thatmisery! rather take itaway!takeitintoGod'skingdom!Forgetmytears,forgetmyprayers,andall

thatIhavedone!"

"Idonotunderstandthee!"saidDeath."Wiltthouhavethychildagain,orshallIgowithitthere,wherethoudostnotknow!"

Then themotherwrung her hands, fell on her knees, and prayed to ourLord:"Oh,hearmenotwhenIprayagainstThywill,whichisthebest!hearmenot!hearmenot!"

And shebowedherheaddown inher lap, andDeath tookher child andwentwithitintotheunknownland.

THEFALSECOLLAR.

Therewasonceafinegentleman,allofwhosemoveableswereabootjackandahair-comb:buthehadthefinestfalsecollarsintheworld;anditisaboutoneofthesecollarsthatwearenowtohearastory.

Itwas so old, that it began to think ofmarriage; and it happened that itcametobewashedincompanywithagarter.

"Nay!"saidthecollar,"Ineverdidseeanythingsoslenderandsofine,sosoftandsoneat.MayInotaskyourname?"

"ThatIshallnottellyou!"saidthegarter.

"Wheredoyoulive?"askedthecollar.

But the garter was so bashful, so modest, and thought it was a strangequestiontoanswer.

"Youarecertainlyagirdle,"saidthecollar;"thatistosayaninsidegirdle.Iseewellthatyouarebothforuseandornament,mydearyounglady."

"Iwill thankyounot tospeaktome,"said thegarter."I thinkIhavenotgiventheleastoccasionforit."

"Yes!whenoneisashandsomeasyou,"said thecollar,"that isoccasionenough."

"Don'tcomesonearme,Ibegofyou!"saidthegarter."Youlooksomuchlikethosemen-folks."

"Iamalsoafinegentleman,"saidthecollar."Ihaveaboot-jackandahair-comb."

Butthatwasnottrue,foritwashismasterwhohadthem:butheboasted.

"Don'tcomesonearme,"saidthegarter:"Iamnotaccustomedtoit."

"Prude!" exclaimed thecollar; and then itwas takenoutof thewashing-tub. Itwas starched,hungover thebackofachair in the sunshine,andwasthen laidon the ironing-blanket; thencame thewarmbox-iron."Dear lady!"saidthecollar."Dearwidow-lady!Ifeelquitehot.Iamquitechanged.Ibegintounfoldmyself.Youwillburnaholeinme.Oh!Iofferyoumyhand."

"Rag!"saidthebox-iron;andwentproudlyoverthecollar:forshefanciedshewasasteam-engine,thatwouldgoontherailroadanddrawthewaggons."Rag!"saidthebox-iron.

Thecollarwasalittlejaggedattheedge,andsocamethelongscissorstocutoffthejaggedpart.

"Oh!"said thecollar, "youarecertainly the firstoperadancer.Howwellyoucanstretchyourlegsout!ItisthemostgracefulperformanceIhaveeverseen.Noonecanimitateyou."

"Iknowit,"saidthescissors.

"Youdeserve tobeabaroness," said thecollar. "All that Ihave isa finegentleman,aboot-jack,andahair-comb.IfIonlyhadthebarony!"

"Doyouseekmyhand?"saidthescissors;forshewasangry;andwithoutmoreado,shecuthim,andthenhewascondemned.

"Ishallnowbeobligedtoaskthehair-comb.Itissurprisinghowwellyoupreserveyourteeth,Miss,"saidthecollar."Haveyouneverthoughtofbeingbetrothed?"

"Yes, of course! you may be sure of that," said the hair comb. "I ambetrothed—totheboot-jack!"

"Betrothed!"exclaimedthecollar.Nowtherewasnoothertocourt,andsohedespisedit.

A long time passed away, then the collar came into the rag chest at thepapermill;therewasalargecompanyofrags,thefinebythemselves,andthecoarsebythemselves, justas itshouldbe.Theyallhadmuchtosay,but thecollarthemost;forhewasarealboaster.

"Ihavehadsuchanimmensenumberofsweet-hearts!"saidthecollar,"Icouldnotbeinpeace!Itistrue,Iwasalwaysafinestarched-upgentleman!Ihadboth a bootjack and a hair-comb,which I never used!You shouldhaveseen me then, you should have seen me when I lay down!—I shall neverforgetmyfirstlove—shewasagirdle,sofine,sosoft,andsocharming,shethrewherself intoa tubofwaterformysake!Therewasalsoawidow,whobecameglowinghot,butIleftherstandingtillshegotblackagain;therewasalsothefirstoperadancer,shegavemethatcutwhichInowgowith,shewasso ferocious!myownhair-combwas in lovewithme, she lost all her teeth

fromtheheart-ache;yes,Ihavelivedtoseemuchofthatsortofthing;butIam extremely sorry for the garter—I mean the girdle—that went into thewater-tub.Ihavemuchonmyconscience,Iwanttobecomewhitepaper!"

Anditbecameso,alltheragswereturnedintowhitepaper;butthecollarcametobejustthisverypieceofwhitepaperweheresee,andonwhichthestoryisprinted;andthatwasbecauseitboastedsoterriblyafterwardsofwhathadneverhappenedtoit.Itwouldbewellforustobeware,thatwemaynotactinasimilarmanner,forwecanneverknowifwemaynot,inthecourseoftime, also come into the rag chest, and bemade intowhite paper, and thenhaveourwholelife'shistoryprintedonit,eventhemostsecret,andbeobligedtorunaboutandtellitourselves,justlikethiscollar.

THESHADOW.

It is in the hot lands that the sun burns, sure enough!—there the peoplebecomequiteamahoganybrown,ay,andinthehottestlandstheyareburnttonegroes.Butnow itwasonly to thehot lands that a learnedmanhadcomefromthecold;therehethoughtthathecouldrunaboutjustaswhenathome,buthesoonfoundouthismistake.

He, and all sensible folks, were obliged to stay within doors,—thewindow-shutters and doors were closed the whole day; it looked as if thewholehouseslept,ortherewasnooneathome.

Thenarrowstreetwiththehighhouses,wasbuiltsothatthesunshinemustfalltherefrommorningtillevening—itwasreallynottobeborne.

Thelearnedmanfromthecoldlands—hewasayoungman,andseemedtobeacleverman—satinaglowingoven;ittookeffectonhim,hebecamequitemeagre—evenhisshadowshrunkin,forthesunhadalsoaneffectonit.Itwasfirst towardseveningwhenthesunwasdown, that theybegantofreshenupagain.

In thewarmlandseverywindowhasabalcony,andthepeoplecameouton all the balconies in the street—for one must have air, even if one beaccustomed to be mahogany! It was lively both up and down the street.Tailors,andshoemakers,andall the folks,movedout into thestreet—chairsand tables were brought forth—and candles burnt—yes, above a thousandlights were burning—and the one talked and the other sung; and peoplewalked and church-bells rang, and asses went along with a dingle-dingle-dong!fortheytoohadbellson.Thestreetboyswerescreamingandhooting,andshoutingandshooting,withdevilsanddetonatingballs:—andtherecame

corpse bearers and hood wearers,—for there were funerals with psalm andhymn,—andthenthedinofcarriagesdrivingandcompanyarriving:—yes,itwas, in truth, lively enough down in the street. Only in that single house,which stood opposite that inwhich the learned foreigner lived, itwas quitestill; andyet someone lived there, for there stood flowers in thebalcony—theygrew sowell in the sun's heat—and that they couldnot dounless theywere watered—and some one must water them—there must be somebodythere.Thedooroppositewasalsoopenedlateintheevening,butitwasdarkwithin, at least in the front room; further in there was heard the sound ofmusic.The learned foreigner thought itquitemarvellous,butnow—itmightbethatheonlyimaginedit—forhefoundeverythingmarvellousoutthere,inthewarmlands,iftherehadonlybeennosun.Thestranger'slandlordsaidthathedidn'tknowwhohad taken thehouseopposite,onesawnopersonabout,andas to themusic, itappeared tohim tobeextremely tiresome."It isas ifsomeonesatthere,andpractisedapiecethathecouldnotmaster—alwaysthesamepiece. 'I shallmaster it!' sayshe;butyethecannotmaster it,howeverlongheplays."

Onenightthestrangerawoke—hesleptwiththedoorsofthebalconyopen—thecurtainbefore itwasraisedbythewind,andhethought thatastrangelustre came from the opposite neighbor's house; all the flowers shone likeflames, in themostbeautiful colors, and in themidstof the flowers stoodaslender,gracefulmaiden,—itwasasifshealsoshone;thelightreallyhurthiseyes.He now opened them quitewide—yes, hewas quite awake;with onespringhewasonthefloor;hecreptgentlybehindthecurtainbutthemaidenwas gone; the flowers shone no longer, but there they stood, fresh andbloomingasever;thedoorwasajar,and,farwithin,themusicsoundedsosoftand delightful, one could reallymelt away in sweet thoughts from it.Yet itwaslikeapieceofenchantment.Andwholivedthere?Wherewastheactualentrance?Thewholeoftheground-floorwasarowofshops,andtherepeoplecouldnotalwaysberunningthrough.

One evening the stranger sat out on the balcony. The light burnt in theroombehindhim;andthusitwasquitenaturalthathisshadowshouldfallonhisoppositeneighbor'swall.Yes! there it sat,directlyopposite,between theflowersonthebalcony;andwhenthestrangermoved,theshadowalsomoved:forthatitalwaysdoes.

"Ithinkmyshadowistheonlylivingthingoneseesoverthere,"saidthelearnedman. "See! how nicely it sits between the flowers. The door standshalf-open: now the shadow should be cunning, and go into the room, lookabout,andthencomeandtellmewhatithadseen.Come,now!beuseful,anddomeaservice,"saidhe,injest."Havethekindnesstostepin.Now!artthougoing?" and then he nodded to the shadow, and the shadow nodded again.

"Wellthen,go!butdon'tstayaway."

Thestrangerrose,andhisshadowontheoppositeneighbor'sbalconyrosealso;thestrangerturnedroundandtheshadowalsoturnedround.Yes!ifanyonehadpaidparticularattentiontoit, theywouldhaveseen,quitedistinctly,thattheshadowwentinthroughthehalf-openbalcony-dooroftheiroppositeneighbor,justasthestrangerwentintohisownroom,andletthelongcurtainfalldownafterhim.

Next morning, the learned man went out to drink coffee and read thenewspapers.

"What is that?" said he, as he came out into the sunshine. "I have noshadow! So then, it has actually gone last night, and not come again. It isreallytiresome!"

Thisannoyedhim:notsomuchbecausetheshadowwasgone,butbecausehe knew therewas a story about amanwithout a shadow. Itwas known toeverybodyathome,inthecoldlands;andifthelearnedmannowcamethereandtoldhisstory,theywouldsaythathewasimitatingit,andthathehadnoneed todo.Hewould, therefore,not talkabout itatall;and thatwaswiselythought.

In theeveninghewentoutagainonthebalcony.Hehadplacedthe lightdirectly behind him, for he knew that the shadow would always have itsmasterforascreen,buthecouldnotenticeit.Hemadehimselflittle;hemadehimselfgreat:butnoshadowcameagain.Hesaid,"Hem!hem!"butitwasofnouse.

Itwasvexatious;butinthewarmlandseverythinggrowssoquickly;andafterthelapseofeightdaysheobserved,tohisgreatjoy,thatanewshadowcameinthesunshine.Inthecourseofthreeweekshehadaveryfairshadow,which,when he set out for his home in the northern lands, grewmore andmoreinthejourney,sothatatlastitwassolongandsolarge,thatitwasmorethansufficient.

Thelearnedmanthencamehome,andhewrotebooksaboutwhatwastruein the world, and about what was good and what was beautiful; and therepasseddaysandyears,—yes!manyyearspassedaway.

Oneevening,ashewassittinginhisroom,therewasagentleknockingatthedoor.

"Comein!"saidhe;butnoonecamein;soheopenedthedoor,andtherestoodbeforehimsuchanextremelyleanman,thathefeltquitestrange.Astotherest,themanwasveryfinelydressed,—hemustbeagentleman.

"WhomhaveIthehonorofspeakingto?"askedthelearnedman.

"Yes! I thought as much," said the fine man. "I thought you would notknowme. I havegot somuchbody. I have evengot flesh and clothes.Youcertainlynever thoughtofseeingmesowelloff.Doyounotknowyouroldshadow?YoucertainlythoughtIshouldnevermorereturn.ThingshavegoneonwellwithmesinceIwaslastwithyou.Ihave,inallrespects,becomeverywelloff.Shall Ipurchasemy freedom fromservice? If so, I cando it;" andthenherattledawholebunchofvaluablesealsthathungtohiswatch,andhestuckhishandinthethickgoldchainheworearoundhisneck;—nay!howallhisfingersglitteredwithdiamondrings;andthenallwerepuregems.

"Nay;Icannotrecoverfrommysurprise!"saidthelearnedman:"whatisthemeaningofallthis?"

"Somethingcommon,isitnot,"saidtheshadow:"butyouyourselfdonotbelong to the common order; and I, as you know well, have from a childfollowedinyourfootsteps,AssoonasyoufoundIwascapabletogooutaloneintheworld,Iwentmyownway.Iaminthemostbrilliantcircumstances,buttherecameasortofdesireovermetoseeyouoncemorebeforeyoudie;youwilldie, I suppose? I alsowished to see this landagain,—foryouknowwealwaysloveournativeland.Iknowyouhavegotanothershadowagain;haveIanythingtopaytoitoryou?Ifso,youwillobligemebysayingwhatitis."

"Nay, is it really thou?" said the learnedman: "it is most remarkable: Ineverimaginedthatone'soldshadowcouldcomeagainasaman."

"TellmewhatIhavetopay,"saidtheshadow;"forIdon'tliketobeinanysortofdebt."

"Howcanstthoutalkso?"saidthelearnedman;"whatdebtistheretotalkabout?Makethyselfasfreeasanyoneelse.Iamextremelygladtohearofthygood fortune: sit down,old friend, and tellmea littlehow it hasgonewiththee,andwhat thouhast seenatouroppositeneighbor's there—in thewarmlands."

"Yes,Iwilltellyouallaboutit,"saidtheshadow,andsatdown:"butthenyoumustalsopromiseme, that,whereveryoumaymeetme,youwillneversaytoanyonehereinthetownthatIhavebeenyourshadow.Iintendtogetbetrothed,forIcanprovideformorethanonefamily."

"Bequiteatthyeaseaboutthat,"saidthelearnedman;"Ishallnotsaytoany onewho thou actually art: here ismy hand—I promise it, and aman'sbondishisword."

"Awordisashadow,"saidtheshadow,"andassuchitmustspeak."

Itwasreallyquiteastonishinghowmuchofamanitwas.Itwasdressedentirelyinblack,andoftheveryfinestcloth;ithadpatentleatherboots,anda

hat thatcouldbefolded together,so that itwasbarecrownandbrim;not tospeakofwhatwealreadyknowithad—seals,goldneck-chain,anddiamondrings; yes, the shadowwaswell-dressed, and itwas just thatwhichmade itquiteaman.

"Now I shall tell youmy adventures," said the shadow; and then he sat,with the polished boots, as heavily as he could, on the arm of the learnedman's new shadow, which lay like a poodle-dog at his feet. Now this wasperhapsfromarrogance;andtheshadowonthegroundkeptitselfsostillandquiet, that itmight hear all that passed: itwished to knowhow it could getfree,andworkitswayup,soastobecomeitsownmaster.

"Do you know who lived in our opposite neighbor's house?" said theshadow;"itwasthemostcharmingofallbeings,itwasPoesy!Iwasthereforthreeweeks, and that has asmuch effect as if one had lived three thousandyears,andreadallthatwascomposedandwritten;thatiswhatIsay,anditisright.IhaveseeneverythingandIknoweverything!"

"Poesy!" cried the learnedman; "yes, yes, she often dwells a recluse inlarge cities! Poesy! yes, I have seen her,—a single shortmoment, but sleepcameintomyeyes!Shestoodonthebalconyandshoneastheauroraborealisshines. Go on, go on!—thou wert on the balcony, and went through thedoorway,andthen———"

"Then Iwas in the antechamber," said the shadow. "You always sat andlooked over to the antechamber. There was no light; there was a sort oftwilight,buttheonedoorstoodopendirectlyoppositetheotherthroughalongrow of rooms and saloons, and there it was lighted up. I should have beencompletelykilled if Ihadgoneover to themaiden;but Iwascircumspect, Itooktimetothink,andthatonemustalwaysdo."

"Andwhatdidstthouthensee?"askedthelearnedman.

"I saw everything, and I shall tell all to you: but,—it is no pride onmypart,—as a free man, and with the knowledge I have, not to speak of mypositioninlife,myexcellentcircumstances,—Icertainlywishthatyouwouldsayyoutome!"

"Ibegyourpardon,"saidthelearnedman;"itisanoldhabitwithme.Youareperfectlyright,andIshallrememberit;butnowyoumusttellmeallyousaw!"

"Everything!" said the shadow, "for I saw everything, and I knoweverything!"

"Howdid it look in the furthest saloon?"asked the learnedman."Was itthereasinthefreshwoods?Wasitthereasinaholychurch?Werethesaloons

likethestarlitfirmamentwhenwestandonthehighmountains?"

"Everythingwasthere!"saidtheshadow."Ididnotgoquitein,Iremainedin the foremost room, in the twilight, but I stood there quite well; I saweverything,andIknoweverything!IhavebeenintheantechamberatthecourtofPoesy."

"Butwhatdidyousee?Didallthegodsoftheoldentimespassthroughthelargesaloons?Didtheoldheroescombatthere?Didsweetchildrenplaythere,andrelatetheirdreams?"

"I tellyou Iwas there,andyoucanconceive that I saweverything therewastobeseen.Hadyoucomeoverthere,youwouldnothavebeenaman;butI became so!And besides, I learned to knowmy inward nature,my innatequalities, the relationship I had with Poesy. At the time I was with you, Ithought not of that, but always—youknow itwell—when the sun rose, andwhenthesunwentdown,Ibecamesostrangelygreat;inthemoonlightIwasverynearbeingmoredistinctthanyourself;atthattimeIdidnotunderstandmy nature; it was revealed tome in the antechamber! I became aman!—Icameoutmatured;butyouwerenolongerinthewarmlands;—asamanIwasashamedtogoasIdid.Iwasinwantofboots,ofclothes,ofthewholehumanvarnishthatmakesamanperceptible.Itookmyway—Itellittoyou,butyouwillnotputitinanybook—Itookmywaytothecakewoman—Ihidmyselfbehindher;thewomandidn'tthinkhowmuchsheconcealed.Iwentoutfirstintheevening;Iranaboutthestreetsinthemoonlight;Imademyselflongupthewalls—itticklesthebacksodelightfully!Iranup,andrandown,peepedintothehighestwindows,intothesaloons,andontheroofs,Ipeepedinwherenoonecouldpeep,andIsawwhatnooneelsesaw,whatnooneelseshouldsee!This is, in fact, abaseworld! Iwouldnotbeaman if itwerenotnowonce accepted and regarded as something to be so! I saw the mostunimaginablethingswiththewomen,withthemen,withparents,andwiththesweet, matchless children; I saw," said the shadow "what no human beingmustknow,butwhattheywouldallsowillinglyknow—whatisbadintheirneighbor. Had I written a newspaper, it would have been read! but I wrotedirecttothepersonsthemselves,andtherewasconsternationinallthetownswhere I came.Theywere soafraidofme, andyet theywere soexcessivelyfondofme.Theprofessorsmadeaprofessorofme;thetailorsgavemenewclothes—Iamwellfurnished;themasterofthemintstrucknewcoinforme,andthewomensaidIwassohandsome!andsoIbecamethemanIam.AndInowbidyoufarewell;—hereismycard—Iliveonthesunnysideofthestreet,andamalwaysathomeinrainyweather!"Andsoawaywenttheshadow.

"Thatwasmostextraordinary!"saidthelearnedman.

Yearsanddayspassedaway,thentheshadowcameagain.

"Howgoesit?"saidtheshadow.

"Alas!"saidthelearnedman,"Iwriteaboutthetrue,andthegood,andthebeautiful,butnoonecarestohearsuchthings;Iamquitedesperate,forItakeitsomuchtoheart!"

"But Idon't!" said theshadow,"Ibecomefat,and it is thatonewants tobecome!Youdonotunderstandtheworld.Youwillbecomeillbyit.Youmusttravel!Ishallmakeatourthissummer;willyougowithme?—Ishouldliketohave a travelling companion!will you gowithme, as shadow? Itwill be agreat pleasure for me to have you with me; I shall pay the travellingexpenses!"

"Nay,thisistoomuch!"saidthelearnedman.

"Itisjustasonetakesit!"—saidtheshadow."Itwilldoyoumuchgoodtotravel!—will you be my shadow?—you shall have everything free on thejourney!"

"Nay,thatistoobad!"saidthelearnedman.

"Butitisjustsowiththeworld!"saidtheshadow,—"andsoitwillbe!"—andawayitwentagain.

Thelearnedmanwasnotatallinthemostenviablestate;griefandtormentfollowedhim,andwhathesaidaboutthetrue,andthegood,andthebeautiful,was,tomostpersons,likerosesforacow!—hewasquiteillatlast.

"Youreally look likeashadow!"saidhis friends tohim;and the learnedmantrembled,forhethoughtofit.

"Youmustgotoawatering-place!"saidtheshadow,whocameandvisitedhim;"thereisnothingelseforit!Iwilltakeyouwithmeforoldacquaintance'sake;Iwillpaythetravellingexpenses,andyouwritethedescriptions—andiftheyarealittleamusingformeontheway!Iwillgotoawatering-place,—mybearddoesnot growout as it ought—that is also a sickness—andonemusthave a beard! Now you be wise and accept the offer; we shall travel ascomrades!"

And so they travelled; the shadow was master, and the master was theshadow; theydrovewith eachother, they rode andwalked together, sidebyside,beforeandbehind, justas thesunwas; theshadowalwaystookcaretokeepitselfinthemaster'splace.Nowthelearnedmandidn'tthinkmuchaboutthat;hewasaverykind-heartedman,andparticularlymildandfriendly,andsohesaidonedaytotheshadow:"Aswehavenowbecomecompanions,andinthiswayhavegrownuptogetherfromchildhood,shallwenotdrink'thou'together,itismorefamiliar?"

"You are right," said the shadow,whowas now the propermaster. "It is

saidinaverystraight-forwardandwell-meantmanner.You,asalearnedman,certaintyknowhowstrangenatureis.Somepersonscannotbeartotouchgreypaper,ortheybecomeill;othersshiverineverylimbifonerubapaneofglasswithanail: Ihave just sucha feelingonhearingyousay thou tome; I feelmyselfasifpressedtotheearthinmyfirstsituationwithyou.Youseethatitisafeeling;thatitisnotpride:Icannotallowyoutosaythoutome,butIwillwillinglysaythoutoyou,soitishalfdone!"

Sotheshadowsaidthoutoitsformermaster.

"Thisisrathertoobad,"thoughthe,thatImustsayyouandhesay"thou,"buthewasnowobligedtoputupwithit.

So they came to awatering-placewhere thereweremany strangers, andamongstthemwasaprincess,whowastroubledwithseeingtoowell;andthatwassoalarming!

She directly observed that the stranger who had just come was quite adifferentsortofpersontoall theothers;—"Hehascomehereinordertogethisbeardtogrow,theysay,butIseetherealcause,hecannotcastashadow."

Shehadbecomeinquisitive;andsosheenteredintoconversationdirectlywith thestrangegentleman,on theirpromenades.As thedaughterofaking,sheneedednottostandupontrifles,soshesaid,"Yourcomplaintis,thatyoucannotcastashadow?"

"YourRoyalHighnessmustbeimprovingconsiderably,"saidtheshadow,—"Iknowyourcomplaintis,thatyouseetooclearly,butithasdecreased,youarecured.I justhappentohaveaveryunusualshadow!Doyounotseethatpersonwhoalwaysgoeswithme?Otherpersonshaveacommonshadow,butIdonotlikewhatiscommontoall.Wegiveourservantsfinerclothfortheirliverythanweourselvesuse,andsoIhadmyshadowtrimmedupintoaman:yes,youseeIhaveevengivenhimashadow.Itissomewhatexpensive,butIliketohavesomethingformyself!"

"What!" thought the princess, "should I really be cured!These baths arethefirstintheworld!Inourtimewaterhaswonderfulpowers.ButIshallnotleavetheplace,foritnowbeginstobeamusinghere.Iamextremelyfondofthat stranger:would that his beard shouldnotgrow! for in that casehewillleaveus."

In theevening, theprincess and the shadowdanced together in the largeball-room.Shewas light, but hewas still lighter; she had never had such apartnerinthedance.Shetoldhimfromwhatlandshecame,andheknewthatland;hehadbeenthere,butthenshewasnotathome;hehadpeepedinatthewindow,aboveandbelow—hehadseenboththeoneandtheother,andsohecould answer the princess, and make insinuations, so that she was quite

astonished; he must be the wisest man in the whole world! she felt suchrespectforwhatheknew!Sothatwhentheyagaindancedtogethershefellinlovewithhim;andthattheshadowcouldremark,forshealmostpiercedhimthroughwithhereyes.Sotheydancedoncemoretogether;andshewasaboutto declare herself, but she was discreet; she thought of her country andkingdom,andofthemanypersonsshewouldhavetoreignover.

"He is a wise man," said she to herself—"It is well; and he dancesdelightfully—that is alsogood; but hashe solidknowledge?—that is just asimportant!—hemustbeexamined."

Soshebegan,bydegrees, toquestionhimabout themostdifficult thingsshecouldthinkof,andwhichsheherselfcouldnothaveanswered;sothattheshadowmadeastrangeface.

"Youcannotanswerthesequestions?"saidtheprincess.

"They belong to my childhood's learning," said the shadow. "I reallybelievemyshadow,bythedoorthere,cananswerthem!"

"Yourshadow!"saidtheprincess;"thatwouldindeedbemarvellous!"

"Iwillnotsayforacertaintythathecan,"saidtheshadow,"butIthinkso;hehasnowfollowedmeforsomanyyears,andlistenedtomyconversation—Ishouldthinkitpossible.Butyourroyalhighnesswillpermitmetoobserve,thatheissoproudofpassinghimselfoffforaman,thatwhenheistobeinaproperhumor—andhemustbeso toanswerwell—hemustbe treatedquitelikeaman."

"Oh!Ilikethat!"saidtheprincess.

Soshewenttothelearnedmanbythedoor,andshespoketohimaboutthesunandthemoon,andaboutpersonsoutofandintheworld,andheansweredwithwisdomandprudence.

"Whatamanthatmustbewhohassowiseashadow!"thoughtshe;"ItwillbearealblessingtomypeopleandkingdomifIchoosehimformyconsort—Iwilldoit!"

Theyweresoonagreed,boththeprincessandtheshadow;butnoonewastoknowaboutitbeforeshearrivedinherownkingdom.

"No one—not even my shadow!" said the shadow, and he had his ownthoughtsaboutit!

Nowtheywereinthecountrywheretheprincessreignedwhenshewasathome.

"Listen,mygoodfriend,"saidtheshadowtothelearnedman."Ihavenowbecome as happy and mighty as any one can be; I will, therefore, do

somethingparticular for thee!Thoushalt always livewithme in thepalace,drivewithmeinmyroyalcarriage,andhavetenthousandpoundsayear;butthenthoumustsubmittobecalledshadowbyallandeveryone;thoumustnotsaythatthouhasteverbeenaman;andoncea-year,whenIsitonthebalconyinthesunshine,thoumustlieatmyfeet,asashadowshalldo!Imusttellthee:Iamgoingtomarrytheking'sdaughter,andthenuptialsaretotakeplacethisevening!"

"Nay,thisisgoingtoofar!"saidthelearnedman;"Iwillnothaveit;Iwillnot do it! it is todeceive thewhole country and theprincess too! Iwill tellevery thing!—that I am a man, and that thou art a shadow—thou art onlydressedup!"

"Thereisnoonewhowillbelieveit!"saidtheshadow;"bereasonable,orIwillcalltheguard!"

"Iwillgodirectlytotheprincess!"saidthelearnedman.

"ButIwillgofirst!"saidtheshadow,"andthouwiltgotoprison!"andthathe was obliged to do—for the sentinels obeyed him whom they knew theking'sdaughterwastomarry.

"You tremble!" said the princess, as the shadow came into her chamber;"hasanythinghappened?Youmustnotbeunwell thisevening,now thatwearetohaveournuptialscelebrated."

"Ihavelivedtoseethemostcruelthingthatanyonecanlivetosee!"saidtheshadow."Onlyimagine—yes, it is true,suchapoorshadow-skullcannotbearmuch—only think,my shadowhasbecomemad; he thinks that he is aman,andthatI—nowonlythink—thatIamhisshadow!"

"Itisterrible!"saidtheprincess;"butheisconfined,ishenot?"

"Thatheis.Iamafraidthathewillneverrecover."

"Poor shadow!" said the princess, "he is very unfortunate; itwould be arealworkofcharitytodeliverhimfromthelittlelifehehas,and,whenIthinkproperlyoverthematter,Iamofopinionthatitwillbenecessarytodoawaywithhiminallstillness!"

"Itiscertainlyhard!"saidtheshadow,"forhewasafaithfulservant!"andthenhegaveasortofsigh.

"Youareanoblecharacter!"saidtheprincess.

Thewholecitywas illuminated in theevening,andthecannonswentoffwithabum!bum!andthesoldierspresentedarms.Thatwasamarriage!Theprincessandtheshadowwentoutonthebalconytoshowthemselves,andgetanotherhurrah!

The learnedmanheardnothingofall this—for theyhaddeprivedhimoflife.

THEOLDSTREET-LAMP.

Have you heard the story about the old street lamp? It is not so veryamusing,butonemayverywellhearitonce.Itwassuchadecentoldstreet-lamp, that had done its duty for many, many years, but now it was to becondemned. Itwas the lastevening,—itsat thereon thepostand lighted thestreet; and it was in just such a humor as an old figurante in a ballet, whodances for the last evening, andknows that she is tobeputon the shelf to-morrow.Thelamphadsuchafearofthecomingday,foritknewthatitshouldthen be carried to the town-hall for the first time, and examined by theauthoritiesofthecity,whoshoulddecideifitcouldbeusedornot.Itwouldthenbedeterminedwhetheritshouldbesentouttooneofthesuburbs,orintothe country to a manufactory; perhaps it would be sent direct to theironfounder's and be re-cast; in that case it could certainly be all sorts ofthings: but it pained it not to know whether it would then retain theremembranceofitshavingbeenastreet-lamp.

Howeveritmightbe,whetheritwentintothecountryornot,itwouldbeseparatedfromthewatchmanandhiswife,whomitregardedasitsfamily.Itbecame a street-lampwhenhe becamewatchman.Hiswifewas a very finewomanat that time;itwasonlyintheeveningwhenshewentpast thelampthat she lookedat it,butnever in thedaytime.Now,on thecontrary,of lateyears,astheyhadallthreegrownold,—thewatchman,hiswife,andthelamp,—thewife had always attended to it, polished it up, and put oil in it. Theywere honest folks that married couple, they had not cheated the lamp of asingledrop. Itwas its last evening in the street, and to-morrow itwas tobetakentothetown-hall;theseweretwodarkthoughtsinthelamp,andsoonecanknowhowitburnt.Butotherthoughtsalsopassedthroughit;therewassomuch it had seen, somuch it had a desire for, perhaps just asmuch as thewholeofthecityauthorities;butitdidn'tsayso,foritwasawell-behavedoldlamp—itwouldnotinsultanyone,leastofallitssuperiors.Itrememberedsomuch,andnowandthentheflameswithinitblazedup,—itwasasifithadafeelingof—yes, theywillalsorememberme!Therewasnowthathandsomeyoungman—but that ismanyyears since,—hecamewitha letter, itwasonrose-colored paper; so fine—so fine! andwith a gilt edge; it was so neatlywritten,itwasalady'shand;hereadittwice,andhekissedit,andhelookeduptomewithhistwobrighteyes—theysaid,"Iamthehappiestofmen!"Yes,onlyheandIknewwhatstoodinthatfirstletterfromhisbeloved.

I also remember two other eyes—it is strange how one's thoughts flyabout!—therewasagrandfuneralhereinthestreet,thebeautifulyoungwifelayinthecoffinonthevelvet-coveredfuneralcar;thereweresomanyflowersandwreaths,thereweresomanytorchesburning,thatIwasquiteforgotten—outofsight; thewholefootpathwasfilledwithpersons; theyall followedinthe procession; butwhen the torcheswere out of sight, and I looked about,there stood one who leaned against my post and wept. I shall never forgetthose two sorrowful eyes that looked into me. Thus there passed manythoughts through the old street-lamp, which this evening burnt for the lasttime.Thesentinelwhoisrelievedfromhispostknowshissuccessor,andcansayafewwordstohim,butthelampknewnotitssuccessor;andyetitcouldhavegivenhimahintaboutrainanddrizzle,andhowfarthemoonshoneonthefootpath,andfromwhatcornerthewindblew.

Now, there stood threeon thekerb-stone; theyhadpresented themselvesbeforethelamp,becausetheythoughtitwasthestreet-lampwhogaveawaytheoffice;theoneofthesethreewasaherring'shead,foritshinesinthedark,and it thought that it couldbeofgreat service,anda real savingofoil, if itcame to be placed on the lamp-post. The other was a piece of touchwood,whichalsoshines,andalwaysmorethanastock-fish;besides,itsaidsoitself,itwas the lastpieceofa tree thathadoncebeentheprideof theforest.Thethird was a glow-worm; but where it had come from the lamp could notimagine;buttheglow-wormwasthere,anditalsoshone,butthetouchwoodandtheherring'sheadtooktheiroathsthatitonlyshoneatcertaintimes,andthereforeitcouldneverbetakenintoconsideration.

Theoldlampsaidthatnoneofthemshonewellenoughtobeastreet-lamp;but not one of them thought so; and as they heard that itwas not the lampitself thatgaveaway theoffice, theysaid that itwasaveryhappy thing, forthatitwastooinfirmandbrokendowntobeabletochoose.

At the same moment the wind came from the street corner, it whistledthroughthecowloftheoldlamp,andsaidtoit,"WhatisitthatIhear,areyougoingawayto-morrow?IsitthelasteveningIshallmeetyouhere?Thenyoushallhaveapresent!—nowIwillblowupyourbrain-boxsothatyoushallnotonlyremember,clearlyanddistinctly,whatyouhaveseenandheard,butwhenanythingistoldorreadinyourpresence,youshallbesoclear-headedthatyouwillalsoseeit."

"Thatiscertainlymuch!"saidtheoldstreet-lamp;"Ithankyoumuch;ifIbeonlynotre-cast."

"Itwill not happen yet awhile," said thewind; "and now Iwill blowupyour memory; if you get more presents than that you may have quite apleasantoldage."

"If Ibeonlynot re-cast," said the lamp; "or canyou thenassurememymemory?"

"Old lamp, be reasonable!" said the wind, and then it blew. The mooncameforthatthesametime."Whatdoyougive?"askedthewind.

"Igivenothing!"saidthemoon;"Iamwaning,andthelampshavenevershoneforme,butIhaveshoneforthelamps."Sothemoonwentbehindtheclouds again, for it would not be plagued. A drop of rain then fell straightdownonthelamp'scowl,itwaslikeadropofwaterfromtheeaves,butthedrop said that it came from the grey clouds, andwas also a present,—-andperhapsthebestofall."Ipenetrateintoyou,sothatyouhavethepower,ifyouwish it, inonenight topassover to rust, so thatyoumay fall inpiecesandbecome dust." But the lamp thought this was a poor present, and the windthoughtthesame."Istherenobetter—istherenobetter?"itwhistled,asloudasitcould.Ashooting-starthenfell,itshoneinalongstripe.

"Whatwas that?" exclaimed the herring's head; "did not a star fall rightdown?Ithinkitwentintothelamp!Well,ifpersonswhostandsohighseektheoffice,wemayaswelltakeourselvesoff."

Anditdidso,andtheothersdidsotoo;buttheoldlampshoneallatoncesosingularlybright.

"Thatwas a fine present!" it said; "the bright starswhich I have alwayspleasedmyself somuch about, andwhich shine so beautifully,—as I reallyhaveneverbeenabletoshine,althoughitwasmywholeaimandendeavor,—havenoticedme,apoorold-lamp,andsentonedownwithapresent tome,whichconsistsofthatquality,thateverythingImyselfrememberandseequitedistinctly,shallalsobeseenbythoseIamfondof;andthatis,aboveall,atruepleasure,forwhatonecannotsharewithothersisbutahalfdelight."

"It is a very estimable thought," said the wind; "but you certainly don'tknow that theremust bewax-candles; for unless awax-candle be lighted inyou there are none of the others thatwill be able to see anything particularaboutyou.Thestarshavenotthoughtofthat;theythinkthateverythingwhichshineshas,atleast,awax-candleinit.ButnowIamtired,"saidthewind,"Iwillnowliedown;"andsoitlaydowntorest.

Thenextday—yes,thenextdaywewillspringover:thenexteveningthelamplayinthearmchair,—andwhere?Attheoldwatchman's.Hehad,forhislongandfaithfulservices,beggedoftheauthoritiesthathemightbeallowedto keep the old lamp; they laughed at himwhen he begged for it, and thengavehimit;andnowthelamplayinthearm-chair,closebythewarmstove,and itwas really just as if it had become larger on that account,—it almostfilled thewhole chair. The old folks now sat at their supper, and castmild

looksat theold lamp,which theywouldwillinglyhavegivenaplaceat thetablewiththem.Itistruetheylivedinacellar,ayardorsobelowground:onehadtogothroughapavedfront-roomtocomeintotheroomtheylivedin;butitwaswarmhere, for therewas list round the door to keep it so. It lookedcleanandneat,withcurtainsroundthebedandoverthesmallwindows,wheretwo strange-looking flowerpots stood on the sill. Christian, the sailor, hadbrought themfromtheEastorWestIndies; theywereofclayintheformoftwoelephants,thebacksofwhichwerewanting:butintheirplacetherecameflourishingplantsoutoftheearththatwasinthem;intheonewasthefinestchive,—It was the old folks' kitchen-garden,—and in the other was a largefloweringgeranium—thiswas their flower-garden.On thewallhunga largecoloredprint of "TheCongressofVienna;" there theyhad all thekings andemperors at once.ABornholm clock,with heavy leadenweightswent "tic-tac!"andalwaystoofast;buttheoldfolkssaiditwasbetterthanifitwenttooslow. They ate their suppers, and the old lamp, aswe have said, lay in thearmchair close by thewarm stove. Itwas, for the old lamp, as if thewholeworldwasturnedupsidedown.Butwhentheoldwatchmanlookedatit,andspokeaboutwhattheyhadlivedtoseewitheachother,inrainanddrizzle,intheclear,shortsummernights,andwhenthesnowdroveaboutsothatitwasgoodtogetintothepent-houseofthecellar,—thenallwasagaininorderfortheold lamp, itsawitall justas if itwerenowpresent;—yes! thewindhadblownituprightwell,—ithadenlightenedit.

The old folks were so clever and industrious, not an hour was quietlydozed away; on Sunday afternoons some book was always brought forth,particularlyabookoftravels,andtheoldmanreadaloudaboutAfrica,aboutthe great forests and the elephants that were there quite wild; and the oldwomanlistenedsoattentively,andnowandthentookasideglanceattheclayelephants—herflower-pots."Icanalmostimagineit!"saidshe;andthelampwishedsomuchthattherewasawaxcandletolightandbeputinit,sothatshecouldplainlyseeeverythingjustasthelampsawit;thetalltrees,thethickbranches twining into one another, the blackmen on horseback, andwholetrainsofelephants,which,withtheirbroadfeet,crushedthecanesandbushes.

"Ofwhatuseareallmyabilitieswhenthereisnowaxcandle?"sighedthelamp;"theyhaveonlytrainoilandtallowcandles,andtheyarenotsufficient."

One day there came a whole bundle of stumps of wax candles into thecellar, the largest pieces were burnt, and the old woman used the smallerpieces towaxher threadwithwhenshesewed; therewerewaxcandleends,buttheyneverthoughtofputtingalittlepieceinthelamp.

"Here I stand withmy rare abilities," said the lamp; "I have everythingwithinme,but Icannot shareanypartwith them.Theyknownot that Icantransform thewhite walls to the prettiest paper-hangings, to rich forests, to

everythingthattheymaywishfor.Theyknowitnot!"

Fortherest,thelampstoodinacorner,whereitalwaysmettheeye,anditwasneatandwellscoured;folkscertainlysaiditwasanoldpieceofrubbish;buttheoldmanandhiswifedidn'tcareaboutthat,theywerefondofthelamp.

Oneday itwas theoldwatchman'sbirthday; theoldwomancameup tothe lamp, smiled, and said, "Iwill illuminate for him," and the lamp's cowlcreaked,for it thought,"Theywillnowbeenlightened!"Butsheput in trainoil,andnowaxcandle; itburntthewholeevening;butnowitknewthatthegiftwhichthestarshadgivenit,thebestgiftofall,wasadeadtreasureforthislife.Itthendreamt—andwhenonehassuchabilities,onecansurelydream,—thattheoldfolksweredead,andthatithadcometoanironfounder'stobecastanew; itwas inasmuchanxietyaswhen ithad togo to the town-hall tobeexaminedbytheauthorities;butalthoughithadthepowertofalltopiecesinrustanddust,when itwished it,yet itdidnotdo it;andso itcame into thefurnaceandwasre-castasapretty ironcandlestick, inwhichanyonemightsetawaxcandle. Ithad the formofanangel,bearinganosegay,and in thecentre of the nosegay they put a wax taper and it was placed on a greenwriting-table;andtheroomwassosnugandcomfortable:therehungbeautifulpictures—there stoodmanybooks; itwasat apoet's, andeverything thathewrote,unveiled itself roundabout: the roombecameadeep,dark forest,—asun-litmeadowwherethestorkstalkedabout;andaship'sdeckhighaloftontheswellingsea!

"WhatpowerIhave!"saidtheoldlamp,asitawoke."Ialmostlongtobere-cast;—butno,itmustnotbeaslongastheoldfolkslive.Theyarefondofmeforthesakeofmyperson.Iamtothemasachild,andtheyhavescouredme, and they have given me train oil. After all, I am as well off as 'TheCongress,'—whichissomethingsoverygrand."

From that time it hadmore inwardpeace,whichwasmeritedby theoldstreet-lamp.

THEDREAMOFLITTLETUK.

Ah!yes,thatwaslittleTuk:inrealityhisnamewasnotTuk,butthatwaswhathecalledhimselfbeforehecouldspeakplain:hemeant it forCharles,anditisallwellenoughifonedobutknowit.HehadnowtotakecareofhislittlesisterAugusta,whowasmuchlessthanhimself,andhewas,besides,tolearnhislessonatthesametime;butthesetwothingswouldnotdotogetheratall.Theresatthepoorlittlefellowwithhissisteronhislap,andhesangtoher

all the songs he knew; and he glanced thewhile from time to time into thegeography-bookthatlayopenbeforehim.Bythenextmorninghewastohavelearnt all the towns inZealandbyheart, and toknowabout themall that ispossibletobeknown.

Hismothernowcamehome,forshehadbeenout,andtooklittleAugustaonherarm.Tukranquicklytothewindow,andreadsoeagerlythatheprettynearly readhiseyesout; for itgotdarkeranddarker,buthismotherhadnomoneytobuyacandle.

"Theregoestheoldwasherwomanover theway,"saidhismother,asshelookedoutof thewindow. "Thepoorwomancanhardlydragherself along,andshemustnowdragthepailhomefromthefountain:beagoodboy,Tukey,andrunacrossandhelptheoldwoman,won'tyou?"

SoTukranoverquicklyandhelpedher;butwhenhecamebackagainintotheroomitwasquitedark,andas toa light, therewasnothoughtofsuchathing.Hewasnowtogotobed;thatwasanoldturn-upbedstead;inithelayand thought about his geography lesson, and ofZealand, and of all that hismasterhadtoldhim.Heought,tobesure,tohavereadoverhislessonagain,but that, you know, he could not do. He therefore put his geography-bookunderhispillow,becausehehadheardthatwasaverygoodthingtodowhenonewantstolearnone'slesson;butonecannot,however,relyuponitentirely.Welltherehelay,andthoughtanthought,andallatonceitwasjustasifsomeonekissedhis eyes andmouth:he slept, andyethedidnot sleep; itwas asthough theoldwasherwomangazedonhimwithhermildeyesandsaid, "Itwereagreatsinifyouwerenottoknowyourlessontomorrowmorning.Youhaveaidedme,Ithereforewillnowhelpyou;andthelovingGodwilldosoatalltimes."AndallofasuddenthebookunderTuk'spillowbeganscrapingandscratching.

"Kickery-ki!kluk!kluk!kluk!"—thatwasanoldhenwhocamecreepingalong, and shewas fromKjöge. I amaKjögerhen," said she, and then sherelatedhowmany inhabitants therewere there,andabout thebattle thathadtakenplace,andwhich,afterall,washardlyworthtalkingabout.

"Kribledy,krabledy—plump!"downfellsomebody:itwasawoodenbird,thepopinjayusedat theshooting-matchesatPrästöe.Nowhesaidthat therewere just asmany inhabitants as he had nails in his body; and hewas veryproud. "Thorwaldsen lived almost next door to me. Plump! here I liecapitally."

ButlittleTukwasnolongerlyingdown:allatoncehewasonhorseback.Onhewentatfullgallop,stillgallopingonandon.Aknightwithagleamingplume,andmostmagnificentlydressed,heldhimbeforehimonthehorse,andthustheyrodethroughthewoodtotheoldtownofBordingborg,andthatwas

alargeandverylivelytown.Hightowersrosefromthecastleoftheking,andthe brightness ofmany candles streamed from all thewindows;withinwasdance and song, andKingWaldemar and the young, richly-attiredmaids ofhonordancedtogether.Themornnowcame;andassoonasthesunappeared,thewholetownandtheking'spalacecrumbledtogether,andonetoweraftertheother;andatlastonlyasingleoneremainedstandingwherethecastlehadbeenbefore,and the townwassosmallandpoor,and theschoolboyscamealongwiththeirbooksundertheirarms,andsaid,"2000inhabitants!"butthatwasnottrue,fortherewerenotsomany.

AndlittleTukeylayinhisbed:itseemedtohimasifhedreamed,andyetasifhewerenotdreaming;however,somebodywasclosebesidehim.

"LittleTukey!littleTukey!"criedsomeonenear.Itwasaseaman,quitealittlepersonage,solittleasifhewereamidshipman;butamidshipmanitwasnot.

"Many remembrances fromCörsör.That is a town that is just rising intoimportance; a lively town that has steam-boats and stagecoaches: formerlypeoplecalleditugly,butthatisnolongertrue.Ilieonthesea,"saidCörsör;"Ihavehighroadsandgardens,andIhavegivenbirthtoapoetwhowaswittyandamusing,whichallpoetsarenot.Ionceintendedtoequipashipthatwastosailallroundtheearth;butIdidnotdoit,althoughIcouldhavedoneso:andthen,too,Ismellsodeliciously,forclosebeforethegatebloomthemostbeautifulroses."

LittleTuklooked,andallwasredandgreenbeforehiseyes;butassoonastheconfusionofcolorswassomewhatover,allofasuddenthereappearedawooded slope close to the bay, and high up above stood amagnificent oldchurch,withtwohighpointedtowers.Fromoutthehill-sidespoutedfountainsin thick streamsofwater, so that therewas a continual splashing; and closebesidethemsatanoldkingwithagoldencrownuponhiswhitehead:thatwasKingHroar, near the fountains, close to the townofRoeskilde, as it is nowcalled.AnduptheslopeintotheoldchurchwentallthekingsandqueensofDenmark, hand in hand, allwith their golden crowns; and the organ playedandthefountainsrustled.LittleTuksawall,heardall."Donotforgetthediet,"saidKingHroar.Againallsuddenlydisappeared.Yes,andwhither?Itseemedtohimjustasifoneturnedoveraleafinabook.Andnowstoodthereanoldpeasant-woman,whocamefromSoröe,wheregrassgrowsinthemarketplace.

Shehadanoldgreylinenapronhangingoverherheadandback:itwassowet, it certainlymusthavebeen raining "Yes, that it has," said she; and shenow related many pretty things out of Holberg's comedies, and aboutWaldemar andAbsalon; but all at once she cowered together, and her headbeganshakingbackwardsandforwards,andshelookedassheweregoingto

makeaspring."Croak!croak!"saidshe:"it iswet, it iswet; there is suchapleasantdeath-likestillnessinSoröe!"Shewasnowsuddenlyafrog,"Croak;"andnowshewasanoldwoman."Onemustdressaccordingtotheweather,"saidshe."Itiswet,itiswet.Mytownisjustlikeabottle;andonegetsinbytheneck,andby theneckonemustgetoutagain!Informer timesIhad thefinestfish,andnowIhavefreshrosy-cheekedboysatthebottomofthebottle,wholearnwisdom,Hebrew,Greek,—Croak!"Whenshespokeitsoundedjustlike the noise of frogs, or as if one walked with great boots over a moor;alwaysthesametone,souniformandsotiringthatlittleTukfellintoagoodsoundsleep,which,bythebye,couldnotdohimanyharm.

Buteveninthissleeptherecameadream,orwhateverelseitwas:hislittlesisterAugusta,shewiththeblueeyesandthefaircurlinghair,wassuddenlyatall,beautifulgirl,andwithouthavingwingswasyetabletofly;andshenowflewoverZealand—overthegreenwoodsandthebluelakes.

"Do you hear the cock crow, Tukey? cock-a-doodle-doo! The cocks areflyingupfromKjöge!Youwillhaveafarm-yard,solarge,oh!soverylarge!Youwill sufferneitherhungernor thirst!Youwill geton in theworld!Youwill be a rich and happy man! Your house will exalt itself like KingWaldemar'stower,andwillberichlydecoratedwithmarblestatues,likethatatPrästöe.YouunderstandwhatImean.Yournameshallcirculatewithrenownallroundtheearth,likeuntotheshipthatwastohavesailedfromCörsör;andinRoeskilde"——

"Donotforgetthediet!"saidKingHroar.

"Thenyouwill speakwellandwisely, littleTukey;andwhenat lastyousinkintoyourgrave,youshallsleepasquietly"——

"As if I lay inSoröe," saidTuk, awaking. Itwasbrightday, andhewasnow quite unable to call to mind his dream; that, however, was not at allnecessary,foronemaynotknowwhatthefuturewillbring.

Andoutofbedhe jumped,andread inhisbook,andnowallatonceheknewhiswholelesson.Andtheoldwasherwomanpoppedherheadinatthedoor,noddedtohimfriendly,andsaid,"Thanks,manythanks,mygoodchild,foryourhelp!Maythegoodever-lovingGodfulfilyourloveliestdream!"

LittleTukeydidnotatallknowwhathehaddreamed,butthelovingGodknewit.

THENAUGHTYBOY.

Alongtimeagotherelivedanoldpoet,athoroughlykindoldpoet.Ashewassittingoneevening inhisroom,adreadfulstormarosewithout,and therainstreameddownfromheaven;buttheoldpoetsatwarmandcomfortableinhischimney-corner,wherethefireblazedandtheroastingapplehissed.

"Thosewhohavenota roofover theirheadswillbewetted to theskin,"saidthegoodoldpoet.

"Ohletmein!letmein!Iamcold,andI'msowet!"exclaimedsuddenlyachildthatstoodcryingatthedoorandknockingforadmittance,whiletherainpoureddown,andthewindmadeallthewindowsrattle.

"Poorthing!"saidtheoldpoet,ashewenttoopenthedoor.Therestoodalittleboy,quitenaked,andthewaterrandownfromhislonggoldenhair;hetrembledwith cold, andhadhenot come into awarm roomhewouldmostcertainlyhaveperishedinthefrightfultempest.

"Poorchild!"saidtheoldpoet,ashetooktheboybythehand."Comein,comein,andIwillsoonrestorethee!Thoushalthavewineandroastedapples,forthouartverilyacharmingchild!"Andtheboywassoreally.Hiseyeswereliketwobrightstars;andalthoughthewatertrickleddownhishair,itwavedinbeautifulcurls.He lookedexactly likea littleangel,buthewassopale,andhiswholebodytrembledwithcold.Hehadanicelittlebowinhishand,butitwasquitespoiledbytherain,andthetintsofhismany-coloredarrowsranoneintotheother.

Theoldpoetseatedhimselfbesidehishearth,andtookthelittlefellowonhis lap; he squeezed the water out of his dripping hair, warmed his handsbetween his own, and boiled for him some sweet wine. Then the boyrecovered,hischeeksagaingrewrosy,hejumpeddownfromthelapwherehewassitting,anddancedroundthekindoldpoet.

"Youareamerryfellow,"saidtheoldman;"what'syourname?"

"MynameisCupid,"answeredtheboy."Don'tyouknowme?Thereliesmybow;itshootswell, Icanassureyou!Look, theweather isnowclearingup,andthemoonisshiningclearagainthroughthewindow."

"Why,yourbowisquitespoiled,"saidtheoldpoet.

"Thatweresadindeed,"saidtheboy,andhetookthebowinhishandandexamineditoneveryside."Oh,itisdryagain,andisnothurtatall;thestringisquitetight.Iwilltryitdirectly."Andhebenthisbow,tookaim,andshotanarrowattheoldpoet,rightintohisheart."Youseenowthatmybowwasnotspoiled,"saidhe,laughing;andawayheran.

Thenaughtyboy!toshoottheoldpoetinthatway;hewhohadtakenhimintohiswarmroom,whohadtreatedhimsokindly,andwhohadgivenhim

warmwineandtheverybestapples!

Thepoorpoet layon the earth andwept, for the arrowhad really flownintohisheart.

"Fie!"saidhe,"hownaughtyaboyCupidis!Iwilltellallchildrenabouthim, that theymay take care and not playwith him, for hewill only causethemsorrowandmanyaheart-ache."

Andallgoodchildrentowhomherelatedthisstory,tookgreatheedofthisnaughty Cupid; but he made fools of them still, for he is astonishinglycunning.Whentheuniversitystudentscomefromthelectures,herunsbesidetheminablackcoat,andwithabookunderhisarm.Itisquiteimpossibleforthem toknowhim,and theywalkalongwithhimarm inarm,as ifhe, too,wereastudentlikethemselves;andthen,unperceived,hethrustsanarrowtotheir bosom. When the young maidens come from being examined by theclergyman, or go to church to be confirmed, there he is again close behindthem.Yes, he is for ever following people. At the play he sits in the greatchandelierandburnsinbrightflames,sothatpeoplethinkitisreallyaflame,buttheysoondiscoveritissomethingelse.Herovesaboutinthegardenofthepalaceandupontheramparts:yes,onceheevenshotyourfatherandmotherrightintheheart.Askthemonly,andyouwillhearwhatthey'lltellyou.Oh,heisanaughtyboy,thatCupid;youmustneverhaveanythingtodowithhim.Heisforeverrunningaftereverybody.Onlythink,heshotanarrowonceatyour old grandmother! But that is a long time ago, and it is all past now;however,athingofthatsortsheneverforgets.Fie,naughtyCupid!Butnowyouknowhim,andyouknow,too,howill-behavedheis!

THETWONEIGHBORINGFAMILIES.

Wereallymighthavethoughtsomethingofimportancewasgoingonintheduck-pond, but therewas nothing going on.All the ducks thatwere restingtranquilly on thewater, orwere standing in it on their heads—for that theywereabletodo—swamsuddenlytotheshore:youcouldseeinthewetgroundthetracesoftheirfeet,andheartheirquackingfarandnear.Thewater,whichbutjustnowwassmoothandbrightasamirror,wasquiteputintocommotion.Before,one sawevery tree reflected in it, everybush thatwasnear: theoldfarm-house,with theholes in theroofandwith theswallow'snestunder theeaves; but principally, however, the great rose-bush, sown, as it were, withflowers.Itcoveredthewall,andhungforwardsoverthewater,inwhichonebeheldthewholeasinapicture,exceptthateverythingwasupsidedown;butwhen thewaterwasagitated,all swamawayand thepicturewasgone.Two

duck'sfeathers,which theflutteringduckshadlost,wererockingtoandfro:suddenlytheyflewforwardsasifthewindwerecoming,butitdidnotcome:theywere,therefore,obligedtoremainwheretheywere,andthewatergrewquietandsmoothagain,andagaintherosesreflectedthemselves—theyweresobeautiful,but that theydidnotknow, fornobodyhad told them.Thesunshoneinbetweenthetenderleaves—allbreathedthemostbeautifulfragrance;and to them it was as with us, when right joyfully we are filled with thethoughtofourhappiness.

"How beautiful is existence!" said each rose. "There is but one thing Ishouldwishfor,—tokissthesun,becauseitissobrightandwarm.Therosesyonder, too, below in thewater, the exact image of ourselves—them also Ishouldliketokiss,andthenicelittlebirdsbelowintheirnest.Therearesomeabove, too; theystretchout theirheadsandchirrupquite loud: theyhavenofeathers at all, as their fathers andmothers have. They are good neighbors,thosebelowaswellasthoseabove.Howbeautifulexistenceis!"

The youngbirds above and below—those belowof course the reflectiononly in thewater—weresparrows: theirparentswere likewisesparrows;andtheyhadtakenpossessionoftheemptyswallow'snestoftheprecedingyear,andnowdweltthereinasifithadbeentheirownproperty.

"Arethoselittleduckchildrenthatareswimmingthere?"askedtheyoungsparrows,whentheydiscoveredtheduck'sfeathersonthewater.

"Ifyouwillaskquestions,doletthembealittlerationalatleast,"saidthemother."Don'tyouseethattheyarefeathers,livingstuffforclothingsuchasIwear,andsuchasyouwillwearalso?Butoursisfiner.Ishould,however,begladifwehadituphereinournest, for itkeepsonewarm.Iamcurioustoknowatwhat theduckswere so frightened;atus, surelynot; 'tis true I said'chirp,'toyouratherloud.Inreality,thethick-headedrosesoughttoknow,buttheyknownothing;theyonlygazeonthemselvesandsmell:formypart,Iamheartilytiredoftheseneighbors."

"Listen to thecharming littlebirdsabove," said the roses, "theybegin towanttosingtoo,buttheycannotasyet.However,theywilldosobyandby:what pleasure that must afford! It is so pleasant to have such merryneighbors!"

Suddenly twohorsescamegallopingalong tobewatered.Apeasantboyrodeonone,andhehadtakenoffallhisclothesexcepthislargebroadblackhat. The youth whistled like a bird, and rode into the pond where it wasdeepest;andashepassedbytherosebushhegatheredaroseandstuckitinhishat;andnowhefanciedhimselfveryfine,androdeon.Theotherroseslookedaftertheirsister,andaskedeachother,"Whitherisshegoing?"butthatnooneknew.

"I should like to go out into theworld," thought one; "yet here at homeamidourfoliageitisalsobeautiful.Bydaythesunshinessowarm,andinthenighttheskyshinesstillmorebeautifully:wecanseethatthroughallthelittleholes thatare in it."Bythis theymeant thestars,but theydidnotknowanybetter.

"Weenliventheplace,"saidthemammasparrow;"andtheswallow'snestbringsluck,sopeoplesay,andthereforepeoplearepleasedtohaveus.Butourneighbors!Sucharose-bushagainstthewallproducesdamp;itwilldoubtlessbeclearedaway,and then,perhaps, somecornat leastmaygrow there.Therosesaregoodfornothingexcepttolookatandtosmell,and,atmosttoputintoone'shat.Everyyear—thatIknowfrommymother—theyfallaway;thepeasantswife collects them together and strews salt among them; they thenreceiveaFrenchnamewhichIneithercannorcaretopronounce,andareputuponthefire,whentheyaretogiveapleasantodor.Lookye,suchistheirlife;they are only here to please the eye and nose! And so now you know thewholematter."

Astheeveningcameon,andthegnatsplayedinthewarmairandintheredclouds,thenightingalecameandsangtotheroses;sangthatthebeautifulisas thesunshine in thisworld,and that thebeautiful livesforever.But therosesthoughtthatthenightingalesanghisownpraise,whichonemightverywellhavefancied;forthatthesongrelatedtothem,ofthattheyneverthought:they rejoiced in it, however, andmeditated if perhaps all the little sparrowscouldbecomenightingalestoo.

"Iunderstood the songof thatbirdquitewell," said theyoungsparrows;"one word only was not quite clear to me. What was the meaning of 'thebeautiful?'"

"That is nothing," said the mamma sparrow, "that is only somethingexternal.Yonderatthemansion,wherethepigeonshaveahouseoftheirown,and where every day peas and corn is strewn before them—I have myselfeatentherewiththem,andyoushall,too,intime;tellmewhatcompanyyoukeep,andI'lltellyouwhoyouare—yes,yonderatthemansiontheyhavegottwobirdswithgreennecksandacombontheirhead;theycanspreadouttheirtaillikeagreatwheel,andinitplayseverycolor,thatitquitehurtsone'seyestolookatit.Thesebirdsarecalledpeacocks,andthatis'THEBEAUTIFUL.'They only want to be plucked a little, and then they would not look at alldifferentfromtherestofus.Iwouldalreadyhavepluckedthem,if theyhadnotbeenquitesobig."

"I will pluck them," chirped the smallest sparrow, that as yet had not asinglefeather.

In the peasant's cottage dwelt a young married couple; they loved each

otherdearly,andwereindustriousandactive:everythingintheirhouselookedso neat and pretty. On Sunday morning early the young woman came out,gathered a handful of themost beautiful roses, andput them into a glass ofwater,whichsheplacedontheshelf.

"NowIseethatitisSunday,"saidtheman,andkissedhislittlewife.Theysat down, read in the hymn-book, andheld each other by the hand: the sunbeamedonthefreshrosesandontheyoungmarriedcouple.

"Thisisreallytootiringasight,"saidthemammasparrow,whofromhernestcouldlookintotheroom,andawaysheflew.

ThenextSundayitwasthesame,foreverySundayfreshroseswereputintheglass:yettherose-treebloomedonequallybeautiful.Theyoungsparrowshad now feathers, andwantedmuch to flywith theirmother; she, however,wouldnotallowit,sotheywereforcedtoremain.Offsheflew;but,however,it happened, before shewas aware, shegot entangled in a springeof horse-hair,whichsomeboyshadsetuponabough.Thehorse-hairdrewitselftightlyroundherleg,sotightlyasthoughitwouldcutitintwo.Thatwasanagony,afright!Theboysrantothespotandcaughtholdofthebird,andthattooinnoverygentlemanner.

"It'sonlyasparrow,"said they;but they,nevertheless,didnot letherfly,buttookherhomewiththem,andeverytimeshecriedtheygaveherataponthebeak.

Therestoodinthefarm-yardanoldman,whoknewhowtomakeshaving-soapandsoapforwashing,insquarecakesaswellasinroundballs.Hewasamerry,wanderingoldman.Whenhesawthesparrowthattheboyshadcaught,andwhich, as they said, they did not care about at all, he asked, "Shallwemakesomethingveryfineofhim?"Mammasparrowfeltanicycoldnesscreepoverher.Outofthebox,inwhichwerethemostbeautifulcolors,theoldmantook a quantity of gold leaf, and the boyswere obliged to go and fetch thewhiteofanegg,withwhichthesparrowwaspaintedallover;onthisthegoldwasstuck,andmammasparrowwasnowentirelygilded;butshedidnotthinkofadornment, forshe trembled inevery limb.Andthesoap-dealer toreabitoff the liningofhisold jacket, cut scollops in it so that itmight look likeacock'scomb,andstuckitontheheadofthebird.

"Now,then,youshallseemastergold-coatfly,"saidtheoldman,andletthesparrowgo,who,indeadlyfright,flewoff,illuminedbythebeamingsun.Howsheshone!Allthesparrows,evenacrow,althoughanoldfellow,weremuchfrightenedatthesight;they,howeverflewonafterhim,inordertolearnwhatforeignbirditwas.

Impelled by anguish and terror, he flewhomewards: hewas near falling

exhausted to the earth. The crowd of pursuing birds increased; yes, someindeedeventriedtopeckathim.

"Look!there'safellow!Look!there'safellow!"screamedtheyall.

"Look!there'safellow!Look!there'safellow!"criedtheyoungsparrows,astheoldoneapproachedthenest."That,forcertain,isayoungpeacock;allsortsofcolorsareplaying inhis feathers: itquitehurtsone'seyes to lookathim,justasourmothertoldus.Chirp!chirp!Thatisthebeautiful!"Andnowthey began pecking at the bird with their little beaks, so that it was quiteimpossibleforthesparrowtogetintothenest:shewassosadlyusedthatshecouldnotevensay"Chirrup," still less, "Why, Iamyourownmother!"Theother birds, too, now set upon the sparrow, and plucked out feather afterfeather;sothatatlastshefellbleedingintherose-bushbelow.

"Oh!poor thing!" saidall the roses, "bequieted;wewillhideyou.Leanyourlittleheadonus."

Thesparrowspreadoutherwingsoncemore,thenfoldedthemclosetoherbody,and laydead in themidstof the familywhowereherneighbors,—thebeautifulfreshroses.

"Chirp! chirp!" sounded from the nest. "Where can ourmother be? It isquiteinconceivable!Itcannotsurelybeatrickofhersbywhichshemeanstotellusthatwearenowtoprovideforourselves?Shehasleftusthehouseasan inheritance; but to which of us is it exclusively to belong, when weourselveshavefamilies'?"

"Yes,thatwillneverdothatyoustayherewithmewhenmyhouseholdisincreasedbytheadditionofawifeandchildren,"saidthesmallest.

"Ishallhave,Ishouldthink,morewivesandchildrenthanyou,"saidthesecond.

"But Iam theeldest," said the third.Theyallnowgrewpassionate; theybeateachotherwiththeirwings,peckedwiththeirbeaks,when,plump!oneaftertheotherwastumbledoutofthenest.Theretheylaywiththeirrage;theyturnedtheirheadsononeside,andwinkedtheireyesastheylookedupward:thatwas theirway of playing the simpleton. They could fly a little, and bypracticetheylearnedtodosostillbetter;andtheyfinallywereunanimousastoa signbywhich,whenat somefuture time theyshouldmeetagain in theworld,theymightrecogniseeachother.Itwastoconsistina"Chirrup!"andinathrice-repeatedscratchingonthegroundwiththeleftleg.

Theyoungsparrowthathadbeenleftbehindinthenestspreadhimselfouttohisfullsize.Hewasnow,youknow,ahouseholder;buthisgrandeurdidnotlastlong:inthenightredfirebrokethroughthewindows,theflamesseizedon

the roof, the dry thatchblazeduphigh, thewholehousewasburnt, and theyoung sparrow with it; but the young married couple escaped, fortunately,with life.When thesun roseagain,andevery thing lookedso refreshedandinvigorated, as after a peaceful sleep, there was nothing left of the cottageexceptsomecharredblackbeamsleaningagainstthechimney,whichnowwasitsownmaster.Agreatdealofsmokestillrosefromtheground,butwithout,quiteuninjured,stoodtherose-bush,freshandblooming,andmirroredeveryflower,everybranch,intheclearwater.

"Oh! how beautifully the roses are blooming in front of the burnt-downhouse!"criedapasser-by. "It is impossible to fancyamore lovelypicture. Imusthavethat!"

Andthemantookalittlebookwithwhiteleavesoutofhispocket:hewasapainter, andwith apencil hedrew the smokinghouse, the charredbeams,andthetopplingchimney,whichnowhungovermoreandmore.Butthelargeandbloomingrose-tree,quiteintheforeground,affordedamagnificentsight;itwasonitsaccountalonethatthewholepicturehadbeenmade.

Later in theday twoof thesparrowswhohadbeenbornherepassedby."Whereisthehouse?"askedthey."Wherethenest?Chirp!chirp!Allisburntdown,andour strongbrother,—that iswhathehasgot forkeeping thenest.Theroseshaveescapedwell;theretheyareyetstandingwiththeirredcheeks.They,forsooth,donotmournat themisfortuneof theirneighbors. Ihavenowishwhatever to address them; and, besides, it is very ugly here, that'smyopinion."Andoffandawaytheyflew.

Onabeautiful,bright,sunnyautumnday—onemightalmosthavethoughtitwas still themiddle of summer—thepigeonswere strutting about the dryandnicely-sweptcourt-yard infrontof thegreatsteps—blackandwhiteandparty-colored—andtheyshoneinthesunshine.Theoldmammapigeonsaidtotheyoungones: "Formyourselves ingroups, formyourselves ingroups, forthatmakesamuchbetterappearance."

"What littlebrowncreaturesare those runningaboutamongstus?"askedanoldpigeon,whoseeyesweregreenandyellow."Poorlittlebrownies!poorlittlebrownies!"

"Theyaresparrows:wehavealwayshadthereputationofbeingkindandgentle;wewill,therefore,allowthemtopickupthegrainwithus.Theynevermixintheconversation,andtheyscrapealegsoprettily."

"Yes, they scratched three timeswith their leg, andwith the left leg too,andsaidalso"Chirrup!"Itisbythistheyrecognisedeachother;fortheywerethreesparrowsoutofthenestofthehousethathadbeenburntdown.

"Very good eating here," said one of the sparrows. The pigeons strutted

roundeachother,drewthemselvesup,andhadinwardlytheirownviewsandopinions.

"Doyouseethecropperpigeon?"saidoneoftheothers."Doyouseehowshe swallows the peas? She takes too many, and the very best into thebargain!"—"Coo! coo!"—"How she puts up her top-knot, the ugly,mischievouscreature!""Coo!coo!coo!"

And every eye sparkled withmalice. "Form yourselves in groups! formyourselvesingroups!Littlebrowncreatures!Poorlittlebrownies!Coo!coo!"So it went on unceasingly, and sowill they go on chattering in a thousandyearstocome.

Thesparrowsaterightbravely.Theylistenedattentivelytowhatwassaid,andevenplacedthemselvesinarowsidebyside,withtheothers.Itwasnotatall becoming to them, however. Theywere not satisfied, and they thereforequittedthepigeons,andexchangedopinionsaboutthem;nestledalongunderthegardenpalisades, and, as they found thedoor of the roomopen that leduponthelawn,oneofthem,whowasfilledtosatiety,andwasthereforeover-bold,hoppeduponthethreshold."Chirrup!"saidhe,"Idaretoventure!"

"Chirrup!" said another, "I dare, too, andmore besides!" and he hoppedintothechamber.Noonewaspresent:thethirdsawthis,andflewstillfurtherinto the room, calling out, "Either all or nothing! However, 'tis a curioushumannestthatwehavehere;andwhathavetheyputupthere?Whatisthat?"

Closeinfrontofthesparrowsbloomedtheroses;theymirroredthemselvesinthewater,andthecharredraftersleanedagainsttheover-hangingchimney.Butwhat can thatbe?howcomes this in the roomof themansion?Andallthree sparrowswere about to fly away over the roses and the chimney, butthey flew against a flatwall. It was all a picture, a large, beautiful picture,whichthepainterhadexecutedafterthelittlesketch.

"Chirrup!"saidthesparrows,"it isnothing!Itonlylookslikesomething.Chirrup!Thatisbeautiful!Canyoucomprehendit?Icannot!"Andawaytheyflew,forpeoplecameintotheroom.

Days andmonthspassed, thepigeonshadoften cooed, the sparrowshadsuffered cold in winter, and in summer lived right jollily; they were allbetrothed and married, or whatever you choose to call it. They had youngones,andeachnaturallyconsideredhisthehandsomestandthecleverest:oneflew here, another there; and if theymet they recognised each other by the"Chirrup?"andbythethrice-repeatedscratchingwiththeleft leg.Theeldestsparrow had remained an old maid, who had no nest and no family; herfavoritenotionwastoseealargetown,soawaysheflewtoCopenhagen.

There one beheld a large house, painted with many bright colors, quite

close to the canal, in which lay many barges laden with earthen pots andapples.Thewindowswerebroaderbelowthanabove,andwhenthesparrowpressedthrough,everyroomappearedlikeatulip,withthemostvariedcolorsandshades,butinthemiddleofthetulipwhitemenwerestanding:theywereofmarble,some,too,wereofplaister;butwhenviewedwithasparrow'seyes,they are the same. Up above on the roof stood ametal chariot, withmetalhorsesharnessedtoit;andthegoddessofvictory,alsoofmetal,heldthereins.ItwasThorwaldsen'sMuseum.

"How it shines! How it shines!'' said the old maiden sparrow. That,doubtless,is'thebeautiful.'Chirrup!Buthereitislargerthanapeacock!"Sherememberedstillwhathermother,whenshewasachild,hadlookeduponasthegrandestamongallbeautifulthings.Thesparrowfleddownintothecourt:allwas somagnificent. Palms and foliagewere painted on thewalls. In themiddleof the court stood a large, blooming rose-tree; it spreadout its freshbranches, with its many roses, over a grave. Thither flew the old maidensparrow,forshesawtheremanyofhersort."Chirrup!"andthreescrapeswiththeleftleg.Thushadsheoftensaluted,fromoneyear'sendtotheother,andnobodyhadansweredthegreeting—forthosewhoareonceseparateddonotmeetagaineveryday—tillatlastthesalutationhadgrownintoahabit.Butto-day, however, two old sparrows and one young one answered with a"Chirrup!"andwithathrice-repeatedscrapeoftheleftleg.

"Ah,goodday,goodday!"Itwastwooldbirdsfromthenest,andalittleonebesides,ofthefamily."Thatweshouldmeethere!Itisaverygrandsortofplace,butthereisnothingtoeathere:thatis'thebeautiful!'Chirrup!"

And many persons advanced from the side apartments, where themagnificentmarblefiguresstood,andapproachedthegravethathidthegreatmaster who had formed the marble figures. All stood with, glorifiedcountenancesaroundThorwaldsen'sgrave,andsomepickeduptheshedrose-leaves and carefully guarded them. They had come from far—one frommighty England, others from Germany and France: the most lovely ladygatheredoneoftherosesandhiditinherbosom.Thenthesparrowsthoughtthat the roses governed here, and that the whole house had been built onaccountofthem.Now,thisseemedtothem,atallevents,toomuch;however,as it was for the roses that the persons showed all their love, they wouldremainnolonger."Chirrup!"saidthey,andsweptthefloorwiththeirtails,andwinkedwithone eye at the roses.Theyhadnot looked at them longbeforetheyconvincedthemselvesthattheyweretheiroldneighbors.Andtheyreallywere so. The painterwho had drawn the rose-bush beside the burned-downhouse,hadafterwardsobtainedpermissiontodigitup,andhadgivenittothearchitect—for more beautiful roses had never been seen—and the architecthadplanted itonThorwaldsen'sgrave,where itbloomedasasymbolof the

beautiful,andgaveupitsredfragrantleavestobecarriedtodistantlandsasaremembrance.

"Haveyougotanappointmenthereintown?"askedthesparrows.

Andtherosesnodded:theyrecognisedtheirbrownneighbors,andrejoicedtoseethemagain."Howdelightfulitistoliveandtobloom,toseeoldfriendsagain,andeverydaytolookonhappyfaces!Itisasifeverydaywereaholy-day."

"Chirrup!" said the sparrows. "Yes, it is in truth our old neighbors; theirorigin—fromthepond—isstillquiteclearinourmemory!Chirrup!Howtheyhaverisenintheworld!Yes,Fortunefavorssomewhiletheysleep!Ah!thereisawitheredleafthatIseequiteplainly."Andtheypeckedatitsolongtilltheleaf felloff; and the tree stood theregreenerandmore fresh, the rosesgaveforth their fragrance in the sunshine over Thorwaldsen's grave, with whoseimmortalname,theywereunited.

THEDARNING-NEEDLE.

Therewasonceuponatimeadarningneedle,thatimagineditselfsofine,thatatlastitfancieditwasasewing-needle.

"Now,payattention,andholdme firmly!" said thedarning-needle to thefingers thatwere taking itout. "Donot letmefall! If I fallon theground, Ishallcertainlyneverbefoundagain,sofineamI."

"Prettywellastothat,"answeredthefingers;andsosaying,theytookholdofitbythebody.

"Look,Icomewithatrain!"saidthedarning-needle,drawingalongthreadafterit,buttherewasnoknottothethread.

The fingersdirected theneedleagainst anoldpairof shoesbelonging tothecook.Theupper-leatherwastorn,anditwasnowtobesewedtogether.

"Thatisvulgarwork,"saidtheneedle;"Icannevergetthroughit.Ishallbreak! I shall break!"And it really did break. "Did I not say so?" said theneedle;"Iamtoodelicate."

"Nowit'sgoodfornothing,"saidthefingers,buttheywereobligedtoholdit still; the cook dropped sealing-wax upon it, and pinned her neckerchieftogetherwithit.

"Well,nowIamabreast-pin,"saidthedarning-needle."IwassureIshouldberaisedtohonor:ifoneissomething,oneissuretogeton!"andatthesame

timeitlaughedinwardly;foronecanneverseewhenadarning-needlelaughs.So there it sat now as proudly as in a state-carriage, and looked around oneveryside.

"MayItakethelibertytoinquireifyouareofgold?"askedtheneedleofapin thatwas itsneighbor. "Youhavea splendidexterior, andaheadofyourown,butitissmall,however.Youmustdowhatyoucantogrow,foritisnoteveryone that isbedroppedwithsealing-wax!"And then thedarning-needledrewitselfupsohighthatitfelloutofthekerchief,andtumbledrightintothesink,whichthecookwasatthatmomentrinsingout.

"Nowwearegoingonour travels,"said theneedle."IfonlyIdonotgetlost!"Butitreallydidgetlost.

"Iamtoodelicateforthisworld!"saidtheneedle,asitlayinthesink,"butIknowwho Iam,and that is alwaysaconsolation;"and thedarning-needlemaintaineditsprouddemeanor,andlostnoneofitsgood-humor.

Andallsortsofthingsswamoverit—shavings,straws,andscrapsofoldnewspapers.

"Onlylookhowtheysailby,"saidtheneedle."Theydonotknowwhatishiddenbelowthem!Istickfasthere:hereIsit.Look!theregoesashaving:itthinksofnothing in theworldbutof itself—butofashaving!Theredriftsastraw; and how it tacks about, how it turns round!Think of something elsebesidesyourself,orelseperhapsyou'llrunagainstastone!Thereswimsabitof a newspaper. What's written there is long ago forgotten, and yet out itspreadsitself,asifitweremightyimportant!Isitherepatientandstill:IknowwhoIam,andthatIshallremainafterall!"

One day there lay something close beside the needle. It glittered sosplendidly,thattheneedlethoughtitmustbeadiamond:butitwasonlyabitofabrokenbottle,andbecauseitglitteredthedarning-needleaddressedit,andintroduceditselftotheotherasabreast-pin.

"Youare,nodoubt,adiamond?"

"Yes, something of that sort." And so each thought the other somethingveryprecious,andtheytalkedtogetheroftheworld,andofhowhaughtyitis.

"Iwaswithacertainmiss, ina littlebox," said thedarning-needle, "andthismisswascook;andoneachhandshehadfivefingers.InmywholelifeIhave never seen anything so conceited as these fingers! And yet theywereonlytheretotakemeoutoftheboxandtoputmebackintoitagain!"

"Werethey,then,ofnoblebirth?"askedthebrokenbottle.

"Noble!" said thedarning-needle; "no,buthigh-minded!Therewere fivebrothers, all descendants of the 'Finger' family. They always kept together,

althoughtheywereofdifferentlengths.Theoutermostone,littleThumb,wasshortandstout;hewentattheside,alittleinfrontoftheranks:hehad,too,butonejointinhisback,sothathecouldonlymakeonebow;buthesaid,ifamanwere tocuthimoff, suchaonewereno longer fit formilitary service.Sweet-tooth, the second finger, pryed into what was sweet, as well as intowhatwas sour, pointed to the sun andmoon, and he itwas that gave stresswhen they wrote. Longman, the third brother, looked at the otherscontemptuouslyoverhis shoulder.Goldrim, the fourth,woreagoldengirdleroundhisbody!andthelittlePeterPlayalldaydidnothingatall,ofwhichhewasveryproud. 'Twasboasting,andboasting,andnothingbutboasting,andsoawayIwent."

"Andnowwesithereandglitter,"saidthebrokenglassbottle.

At thesamemomentmorewatercamealong thegutter; it streamedoverthesidesandcarriedthebitofbottleawaywithit.

"Well, that'sanadvancement,"saidthedarning-needle."IremainwhereIam: Iamtoofine;but that is justmypride,andassuch is tobe respected."Andthereitsatsoproudly,andhadmanygrandthoughts.

"IshouldalmostthinkthatIwasbornofasunbeam,sofineamI!Itseemstome,too,asifthesunbeamswerealwaysseekingmebeneaththesurfaceofthewater.Ah!Iamsofine,thatmymotherisunabletofindme!HadImyoldeyethatbroke,IverilythinkIcouldweep;butIwouldnot—weep!no,it'snotgenteeltoweep!"

Oneday twoboyscame rummagingabout in the sink,where they foundoldnails,farthings,andsuchsortofthings.Itwasdirtywork;however,theytookpleasureinit.

"Oh!"criedonewhohadprickedhimselfwiththeneedle,"there'safellowforyou."

"Iamnofellow,Iamalady!"saidthedarning-needle;butnooneheardit.Thesealing-waxhadwornoff,andithadbecomequiteblack;butblackmakesone lookmore slender, and the needle fancied it lookedmore delicate thanever.

"Herecomesanegg-shellsailingalong!"saidtheboys;andthentheystucktheneedleuprightintheegg-shell.

"Thewallswhite andmyselfblack," said theneedle. "That isbecoming!Peoplecanseemenow!IfonlyIdonotgetseasick,forthenIshallsnap."

Butitwasnotsea-sick,anddidnotsnap.

"It isgood for sea-sickness tohavea stomachof steel, andnot to forgetthatoneissomethingmorethanahumanbeing!Nowmysea-sicknessisover.

Thefineroneis,themoreonecanendure!"

"Crack!"saidtheegg-shell:awheelwentoverit.

"Goodheavens!howheavythatpresses!"saidtheneedle."NowIshallbesea-sick! I snap!"But it did not snap, although awheelwent over it. It laythereatfulllength,andthereitmayliestill.

THELITTLEMATCHGIRL.

Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, andevening—the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness therewentalongthestreetapoorlittlegirl,bareheaded,andwithnakedfeet.Whenshelefthomeshehadslipperson,itistrue;butwhatwasthegoodofthat?Theywerevery largeslippers,whichhermotherhadhithertoworn;so largewerethey;andthepoorlittlethinglostthemasshescuffledawayacrossthestreet,because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast. One slipper wasnowheretobefound;theotherhadbeenlaidholdofbyanurchin,andoffheranwithit;hethoughtitwoulddocapitallyforacradlewhenhesomedayorother shouldhave childrenhimself.So the littlemaidenwalkedonwithhertinynakedfeet,thatwerequiteredandbluefromcold.Shecarriedaquantityofmatchesinanoldapron,andsheheldabundleoftheminherhand.Nobodyhadbought anythingof her thewhole livelongday; noonehadgivenher asinglefarthing.

Shecreptalongtremblingwithcoldandhunger—averypictureofsorrow,thepoorlittlething!

Theflakesofsnowcoveredherlongfairhair,whichfellinbeautifulcurlsaroundherneck;butofthat,ofcourse,sheneveroncenowthought.Fromallthewindows thecandlesweregleaming, and it smelt sodeliciouslyof roastgoose,foryouknowitwasnewyear'seve;yes,ofthatshethought.

Inacornerformedby twohouses,ofwhichoneadvancedmore than theother, she seated herself down and cowered together.Her little feet she haddrawncloseuptoher,butshegrewcolderandcolder,andtogohomeshedidnotventure,forshehadnotsoldanymatchesandcouldnotbringafarthingofmoney:fromherfathershewouldcertainlygetblows,andathomeitwascoldtoo, for above her she had only the roof, throughwhich thewindwhistled,eventhoughthelargestcrackswerestoppedupwithstrawandrags.

Herlittlehandswerealmostnumbedwithcold.Oh!amatchmightaffordheraworldofcomfort,ifsheonlydaredtakeasingleoneoutofthebundle,draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out.

"Rischt!" how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like acandle,assheheldherhandsoverit:itwasawonderfullight.Itseemedreallytothelittlemaidenasthoughsheweresittingbeforealargeironstove,withburnishedbrass feet andabrassornament at top.The fireburnedwith suchblessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had alreadystretchedouther feet towarm them too;but—thesmall flamewentout, thestovevanished:shehadonlytheremainsoftheburntoutmatchinherhand.

Sherubbedanotheragainstthewall:itburnedbrightly,andwherethelightfellonthewall,therethewallbecametransparentlikeaveil,sothatshecouldsee into the room.On the tablewas spreada snow-white tablecloth;upon itwasasplendidporcelainservice,andtheroastgoosewassteamingfamouslywithitsstuffingofappleanddriedplums.Andwhatwasstillmorecapitaltobeholdwas, thegoosehoppeddownfromthedish,reeledaboutonthefloorwithknifeandforkinitsbreast,tillitcameuptothepoorlittlegirl;when—thematchwentoutandnothingbutthethick,cold,dampwallwasleftbehind.She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the mostmagnificentChristmas trees: itwas still larger, andmore decorated than theonewhichshehadseenthroughtheglassdoorintherichmerchant'shouse.

Thousandsoflightswereburningonthegreenbranches,andgaily-coloredpictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows looked down upon her.Thelittlemaidenstretchedoutherhandstowardsthemwhen—thematchwentout.ThelightsoftheChristmastreerosehigherandhigher,shesawthemnowasstarsinheaven;onefelldownandformedalongtrailoffire.

"Someone is justdead!" said the littlegirl; forheroldgrandmother, theonlypersonwhohadlovedher,andwhowasnownomore,hadtoldher,thatwhenastarfalls,asoulascendstoGod.

She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in thelustretherestoodtheoldgrandmother,sobrightandradiant,somild,andwithsuchanexpressionoflove.

"Grandmother!"criedthelittleone;"oh, takemewithyou!Yougoawaywhenthematchburnsout;youvanishlikethewarmstove,likethedeliciousroast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!" And she rubbed thewholebundleofmatchesquicklyagainstthewall,forshewantedtobequitesure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such abrilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had thegrandmotherbeensobeautifulandso tall.She tookthe littlemaiden,onherarm, andboth flew inbrightness and in joy sohigh, soveryhigh, and thenabovewasneithercold,norhunger,noranxiety—theywerewithGod.

But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl,with rosycheeksandwithasmilingmouth,leaningagainstthewall—frozentodeathon

the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child therewith hermatches,ofwhichonebundlehadbeenburnt."Shewantedtowarmherself,"peoplesaid:noonehadtheslightestsuspicionofwhatbeautifulthingsshehadseen;nooneevendreamedofthesplendorinwhich,withhergrandmothershehadenteredonthejoysofanewyear.

THEREDSHOES.

There was once a little girl who was very pretty and delicate, but insummershewas forced to runaboutwithbare feet, shewassopoor,and inwinterwearverylargewoodenshoes,whichmadeherlittleinstepsquitered,andthatlookedsodangerous!

InthemiddleofthevillagelivedoldDameShoemaker;shesateandsewedtogether, aswell as she could, a little pair of shoes out of old red strips ofcloth;theywereveryclumsy,butitwasakindthought.Theyweremeantforthelittlegirl.ThelittlegirlwascalledKaren.

Ontheverydayhermotherwasburied,Karenreceivedtheredshoes,andworethemforthefirst time.Theywerecertainlynotintendedformourning,butshehadnoothers,andwithstockinglessfeetshefollowedthepoorstrawcoffininthem.

Suddenlyalargeoldcarriagedroveupandalargeoldladysateinit:shelookedatthelittlegirl,feltcompassionforher,andthensaidtotheclergyman:

"Here,givemethelittlegirl,Iwilladopther!"

AndKarenbelievedallthishappenedonaccountoftheredshoes,buttheold lady thought theywerehorrible, and theywereburnt.ButKarenherselfwas cleanly andnicelydressed; shemust learn to readand sew; andpeoplesaidshewasanicelittlething,butthelooking-glasssaid:"Thouartmorethannice,thouartbeautiful!"

Now the queen once traveled through the land, and she had her littledaughterwithher.Andthislittledaughterwasaprincess,andpeoplestreamedtothecastle,andKarenwastherealso,andthelittleprincessstoodinherfinewhitedress, inawindow,andletherselfbestaredat;shehadneithera trainnoragoldencrown,butsplendidredmoroccoshoes.TheywerecertainlyfarhandsomerthanthoseDameShoemakerhadmadeforlittleKaren.Nothingintheworldcanbecomparedwithredshoes.

NowKarenwasoldenoughtobeconfirmed;shehadnewclothesandwastohavenewshoesalso.Therichshoemakerinthecitytookthemeasureofher

littlefoot.Thistookplaceathishouse,inhisroom;wherestoodlargeglass-cases,filledwithelegantshoesandbrilliantboots.All this lookedcharming,but the old lady could not seewell, and so had no pleasure in them. In themidst of the shoes stood a pair of red ones, just like those the princess hadworn.Howbeautifultheywere!Theshoemakersaidalsotheyhadbeenmadeforthechildofacount,buthadnotfitted.

"Thatmustbepatentleather!"saidtheoldlady,"theyshineso!'"

"Yes,theyshine!"saidKaren,andtheyfitted,andwerebought,buttheoldladyknewnothingabout theirbeingred,elseshewouldneverhaveallowedKarentohavegoneinredshoestobeconfirmed.Yetsuchwasthecase.

Everybody lookedather feet;andwhenshestepped through thechanceldoor on the church pavement, it seemed to her as if the old figures on thetombs, thoseportraitsofoldpreachersandpreachers'wives,with stiff ruffs,andlongblackdresses,fixedtheireyesonherredshoes.Andshethoughtonlyofthemastheclergymanlaidhishanduponherhead,andspokeoftheholybaptism, of the covenantwithGod, and how she should be now amaturedChristian;andtheorganpealedsosolemnly;thesweetchildren'svoicessang,andtheoldmusic-directorssang,butKarenonlythoughtofherredshoes.

Intheafternoon,theoldladyheardfromeveryonethattheshoeshadbeenred, and she said that it was very wrong of Karen, that it was not at allbecoming,and that infutureKarenshouldonlygo inblackshoes tochurch,evenwhensheshouldbeolder.

ThenextSundaytherewasthesacrament,andKarenlookedat theblackshoes,lookedattheredones—lookedatthemagain,andputontheredshoes.

The sun shonegloriously;Karenand theold ladywalkedalong thepaththroughthecorn;itwasratherdustythere.

At the church door stood an old soldier with a crutch, and with awonderfullylongbeard,whichwasmoreredthanwhite,andhebowedtotheground,andasked theold ladywhetherhemightdusthershoes.AndKarenstretchedoutherlittlefoot.

"See!whatbeautifuldancing-shoes!"said thesoldier, "sit firmwhenyoudance;"andheputhishandouttowardsthesoles.

And theold ladygave theold soldier analms, andwent into the churchwithKaren.

Andall thepeople in thechurch lookedatKaren's redshoes,andall thepictures,andasKarenkneltbeforethealtar,andraisedthecuptoherlips,sheonlythoughtoftheredshoes,andtheyseemedtoswiminit;andsheforgottosingherpsalm,andsheforgottopray,"OurfatherinHeaven!"

Now all the people went out of church, and the old lady got into hercarriage.Karenraisedherfoottogetinafterher,whentheoldsoldiersaid,

"Look,whatbeautifuldancingshoes!"

AndKarencouldnothelpdancingasteportwo,andwhenshebeganherfeetcontinuedtodance;itwasjustasthoughtheshoeshadpoweroverthem.Shedanced round the church corner, she could not leave off; the coachmanwasobligedtorunafterandcatchholdofher,andheliftedherinthecarriage,butherfeetcontinuedtodancesothatshetrodontheoldladydreadfully.Atlengthshetooktheshoesoff,andthenherlegshadpeace.

The shoes were placed in a closet at home, but Karen could not avoidlookingatthem.

Now the old ladywas sick, and it was said she could not recover? Shemustbenursedandwaitedupon,andtherewasnoonewhosedutyitwassomuchasKaren's.But therewasagreatball in thecity, towhichKarenwasinvited.Shelooked,attheoldlady,whocouldnotrecover,shelookedatthered shoes, and she thought there could be no sin in it;—she put on the redshoes,shemightdothatalso,shethought.Butthenshewenttotheballandbegantodance.

Whenshewantedtodancetotheright,theshoeswoulddancetotheleft,and when she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced back again,downthesteps,intothestreet,andoutofthecitygate.Shedanced,andwasforcedtodancestraightoutintothegloomywood.

Thenitwassuddenlylightupamongthetrees,andshefancieditmustbethemoon,fortherewasaface;butitwastheoldsoldierwiththeredbeard;hesatethere,noddedhishead,andsaid,"Look,whatbeautifuldancingshoes!"

Then she was terrified, and wanted to fling off the red shoes, but theyclungfast;andshepulleddownherstockings,but theshoesseemedtohavegrowntoherfeet.Andshedanced,andmustdance,overfieldsandmeadows,inrainandsunshine,bynightandday;butatnightitwasthemostfearful.

She danced over the churchyard, but the dead did not dance,—they hadsomething better to do than to dance. Shewished to seat herself on a poorman'sgrave,wherethebittertansygrew;butforhertherewasneitherpeacenorrest;andwhenshedancedtowardstheopenchurchdoor,shesawanangelstanding there.Hewore long,white garments; he hadwingswhich reachedfromhisshoulderstotheearth;hiscountenancewassevereandgrave;andinhishandheheldasword,broadandglittering.

"Danceshaltthou!"saidhe,—"danceinthyredshoestillthouartpaleandcold!Tillthyskinshrivelsupandthouartaskeleton!Danceshaltthoufrom

doortodoor,andwhereproud,vainchildrendwell,thoushaltknock,thattheymayheartheeandtremble!Danceshaltthou———!"

"Mercy!"criedKaren.Butshedidnotheartheangel'sreply,fortheshoescarriedherthroughthegateintothefields,acrossroadsandbridges,andshemustkeepeverdancing.

Onemorningshedancedpastadoorwhichshewellknew.Withinsoundedapsalm;acoffin,deckedwithflowers,wasborneforth.Thensheknewthattheoldladywasdead,andfeltthatshewasabandonedbyall,andcondemnedbytheangelofGod.

Shedanced,and shewas forced todance through thegloomynight.Theshoescarriedheroverstackandstone;shewastorntillshebled;shedancedover the heath till she came to a little house. Here, she knew, dwelt theexecutioner;andshetappedwithherfingersatthewindow,andsaid,"Comeout!comeout!Icannotcomein,forIamforcedtodance!"

Andtheexecutionersaid,"ThoudostnotknowwhoIam,Ifancy?Istrikebadpeople'sheadsoff;andIhearthatmyaxerings!"

"Don'tstrikemyheadoff!"saidKaren,"thenIcan'trepentofmysins!Butstrikeoffmyfeetintheredshoes!"

And thensheconfessedherentire sin,and theexecutioner struckoffherfeetwith theredshoes,but theshoesdancedawaywith the little feetacrossthefieldintothedeepwood.

Andhecarvedoutlittlewoodenfeetforher,andcrutches, taughtherthepsalmcriminalsalwayssing;andshekissedthehandwhichhadwieldedtheaxe,andwentovertheheath.

"NowIhavesufferedenoughfortheredshoes!"saidshe;"nowIwillgointothechurchthatpeoplemayseeme!"Andshehastenedtowardsthechurchdoor:butwhenshewasnearit,theredshoesdancedbeforeher,andshewasterrified,andturnedround.Thewholeweekshewasunhappy,andweptmanybitter tears;butwhenSunday returned, she said, "Well,now Ihave sufferedandstruggledenough!IreallybelieveIamasgoodasmanyaonewhositsinthechurch,andholdsherheadsohigh!"

Andawayshewentboldly;butshehadnotgotfartherthanthechurchyardgatebeforeshesawtheredshoesdancingbeforeher;andshewasfrightened,andturnedback,andrepentedofhersinfromherheart.

Andshewenttotheparsonage,andbeggedthattheywouldtakeherintoservice;shewouldbeveryindustrious,shesaid,andwoulddoeverythingshecould;shedidnotcareaboutthewages,onlyshewishedtohaveahome,andbewithgoodpeople.Andtheclergyman'swifewassorryforherandtookher

intoservice;andshewasindustriousandthoughtful.ShesatestillandlistenedwhentheclergymanreadtheBibleintheevenings.Allthechildrenthoughtadealofher;butwhentheyspokeofdress,andgrandeur,andbeauty,sheshookherhead.

The followingSunday,when the familywasgoing tochurch, theyaskedherwhether shewould not gowith them; but she glanced sorrowfully,withtearsinhereyes,athercrutches.ThefamilywenttohearthewordofGod;butshewentaloneintoherlittlechamber;therewasonlyroomforabedandchairto stand in it; and here she sate downwith her prayer-book; andwhilst shereadwithapiousmind,thewindborethestrainsoftheorgantowardsher,andsheraisedhertearfulcountenance,andsaid,"OGod,helpme!"

And the sun shone so clearly! and straight before her stood the angel ofGodinwhitegarments, thesameshehadseenthatnightat thechurchdoor;but he no longer carried the sharp sword, but in its stead a splendid greenspray,fullofroses.Andhetouchedtheceilingwiththespray,andtheceilingrosesohigh,andwherehehadtouchedittheregleamedagoldenstar.Andhetouched thewalls, and theywidened out, and she saw the organwhichwasplaying; she saw the old pictures of the preachers and the preachers'wives.Thecongregationsat incushionedseats,andsangoutof theirprayer-books.Forthechurchitselfhadcometothepoorgirlinhernarrowchamber,orelseshehadcomeintothechurch.Shesateinthepewwiththeclergyman'sfamily,andwhentheyhadendedthepsalmandlookedup,theynoddedandsaid,"Itisrightthatthouartcome!"

"Itwasthroughmercy!"shesaid.

And the organ pealed, and the children's voices in the choir sounded sosweetandsoft!Theclear sunshinestreamedsowarmly through thewindowintothepewwhereKarensate!Herheartwassofullofsunshine,peace,andjoy, that it broke. Her soul flew on the sunshine to God, and there no oneaskedaftertheRedShoes.

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