OUT OF THE HEART.
Hlalmar in the Boat.
J)UT OF THE HEART
SPOKEN TO THEif LITTLE ONES
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDIERSE'N.
H. W. DULCKEN, PII.D.
SEfENly EIGRA'INcG& BrT HM BROTHERS DALVEZ.,
GEORGE ROUTLEtDGE AN, -ClxT
OUT OF THE HEART.
SPOKEN TO THE LITTLE ONES
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.
H. W. DULCKEN, PH.D.
SEVENYr ENGRAVINGS Br THE BROTHERS DALZIEL.
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
Strongly bound, bevelled boards,
Three Shillings and Sixpence.
Companion Volume to OUT OF THE HEART.
CHILDREN'S POE TR Y BO OK.
A SELECTION OF NARRATIVE POETRY
FOR THE YOUNG.
With Sixteen full-page Coloured Pictures, and Sixty Vignettes,
Engraved by the Brothers Daliel.
NEVER did writer of children's stories address his
little audience more directly Out of the Heart than
does the Author of the Ugly Duckling;" and never
were the sympathies of readers more completely won
and held, than those of the children of the present and
of the last generations have been won and held by
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.
This volume is believed to contain some of the best
of the Danish enchanter's stories. "Out of the Heart"
they were written: may they find an echo in the
hearts of many readers, young and old.
The Golden Treasure
In the Nursery .
The Silver Shilling
The Hardy Tin Soldier .
Little Ida's Flowers .
The Emperor's New Clothes
The Snail and the Rose Tree
-The Jumper .
The Old Street Lamp
The Daisy .
The Lovers .
Five out of One Shell
A great Grief .
In the Duck-yard .
The Beetle .
The Pigs .
. . . 76
. . 125
.*. - 6o
The Naughty Boy
The Shirt Collar .
The Flying Trunk
The Snow Man .
Little Tuk .
The Money-Pig .
The Flax. ......
Children's Prattle . . .
What the Old Man does is always right
The Darning-Needle . .
Soup on a-Sausage-peg ..
The Fir ree .
The Ugly Duckling
The Old Church Bell .
Jack the Dullard
Ole Luk-Of .. .
The Storm shakes the Shield .
The Legend of Nurnberg Castle .
S . 253
S . 27!
The Farm-yard Cock and the Weathercock 390
The Angel . .. ... 396
"The Will-o'-the-Wisp is in the Town," says the Moor-Woman 401
The Bird of Popular Song . 425
OUT OF THE HEART.
SPOKEN TO THE LITTLE ONES.
THE GOLDEN TREASURE,
T HE drummer's wife went into the church. She
saw the new altar with the painted pictures and
the carved angels: those upon the canvas and in the
glory over the altar were just as beautiful as the carved
ones; and they were painted and gilt into the bargain.
Their hair gleamed golden in the sunshine, glorious to
behold; but the real sunshine was more beautiful still.
It shone redder, clearer through the dark trees, when
the sun went down. It was lovely thus to look at the
sunshine of heaven. And she looked at the red sun,
and she thought about it so deeply, and thought of the
little one whom the stork was to bring; and the wife of
the drummer was very cheerful, and looked and looked,
and wished that the child might have a gleam of sun-
The Golden Treasure.
Mother an4 Child,
shine given to it, so that it might at least become like
one of the shining angels over the altar.
And when she really had the little child in her arms,
and held it up to its father, then it was like one of the
angels in the church to behold, with hair like gold-
the gleam of the setting sun was upon it.
My golden treasure, my riches, my sunshine!" said
the mother; and she kissed the shining locks, and it
sounded like music and song in the room of the poor
2)ee Golden Ti-eastire.
drummer; and there was joy, and life, and movement.
The drummer beat a loud roll--a roll of joy. And the
Drum said, the Fire-drum, that was beaten when there
was a fire in the town:
"Red hair! the little fellow has red hair! Believe
the drum, and not what your mother says! Rub-a-dub,
And the town repeated what the Fire-drum had said.
The boy was taken to church, and was christened.
There was nothing much to be said about his name--
he was called Peter. The whole town, and the Drum
too, called him Peter the drummer's boy with the red
hair; but his mother kissed his red hair, and called him
her golden treasure.
In the hollow way, in the clayey bank, many had
scratched their names as a remembrance.
Celebrity is always something!" said the drummer;
and so he scratched his own name there, and his little
son's name likewise.
And the swallows came: they had, upon their l1dg
journey, seen more durable characters engraven upon
The Golden Treasure.
rocks, and on the walls of the temples of Hindostan,
mighty deeds of great kings, immortal names, so old
that no one could now read or speak them. Remarkable
'In the clayey bank the martens built their nest: they
bored holes in the deep declivity, and the splashing
rain and the thin mist came and crumbled and washed
the names away, and the drummer's name also, and
that of his little son.
Peter's name will last a full year-and a half longer,"
said the father.
"Fool!" thought the. Fire-drum; but it only said,
"Dub, dub, dub, rub-a-dub!"
He was a boy full of life and gladness, this drum-
mer's son with the red hair. He had a lovely voice:
he could sing, and he sang like a bird in the woodland.
There was melody, and yet no melody.
"He must become a chorister boy," said his mother.
"He shall sing in the church, and stand among the
beautiful gilded angels who are like him."
"Fiery cat!" said some of the witty ones of the town.
The Drum heard that from the neighbours' wives.
The Golden Treasure.
"Don't go home, Peter," cried the street boys. If
you sleep in the garret there '11 be a fire in the house,
and the fire-drum will have to be beaten."
Look out for the drum-sticks," replied Peter; and,
small as he was, he ran up boldly, and gave the fore-
most such a punch in the body with his fist, that the
fellow lost his legs and tumbled over, and the others
took their legs off with themselves very rapidly.
The town musician was very genteel and fine. He
was the son of a royal plate-washer. He was very fond
of Peter, and would sometimes take him to his home,
and he gave him a violin, and taught him to play it.
It seemed as if the whole art lay in the boy's fingers;
and he wanted to be more than a drummer-he wanted
to become musician to the town.
"I '11 be a soldier," said Peter, for he was still quite
a little lad, and it seemed to him the finest thing in the
world to carry a gun, and to be able to march, one,
two; one, two," and to wear a uniform and a sword.
"Ah, you learn to long for the drum-skin,--drum,
dum, dum!" said the Drum.
"Yes, if he could only march his way up to be a
The Golden Treasure.
general!" observed his father; "but before he can do
that there must be war."
"Heaven forbid!" said his mother.
"We have nothing to lose," remarked the father.
"Yes, we have my boy," she retorted.
"But suppose he came back a general," said he.
"Without arms and legs!" cried the mother. "No,
I would rather keep my golden treasure with me."
"Drum, dum, dum!" The Fire-drum and all the
other drums were beating, for war had come. The
soldiers all set out, and the young son of the drummer
followed them. "Red-head! Golden treasure !"
The mother wept; the father in fancy already saw
him famous;" the town musician was of opinion that
he ought not to go to war, but should stay at home and
"Red-head!" said the soldiers, and little Peter only
laughed; but when one of them sometimes said to an-
other, Fbxey," he would bite his teeth together and
look another way- into the wide world: he did not
care for the nickname.
I'lie Golden PI-easure.
The boy was active, pleasant of speech, and good
humoured; and that is the best canteen, said his old
And many a night he had to sleep under the openi
sky, wet through with the driving rain or the falling
mist; but his good humour never forsook him. The
drum-sticks sounded "Rub-a-dub, all up, all up !" Yes,
he was certainly born to be a drummer
27e Golden Treasure.
. The day of battle dawned. The sun had not risen,
but the.morning was come. The air was cold, but the
battle was hot; there was mist in the air, but still more
gunpowder smoke. The bullets and shells flew over
the soldiers' heads, and into their heads, and into their
bodies and limbs; but still they pressed forward. Here
or there one or other of them would sink on his knees,
with bleeding temples and a face as white as chalk.
The little drummer still kept his healthy colour; he
had suffered no damage. He looked cheerfully at the
dog of the regiment, which was jumping merrily along,
as if the whole thing had been got up for his amuse-
ment, and as if the bullets were only flying about that
he might have a game of play with them.
"March! forward march !" This was the word of
command for the drum. The word had not yet been
given to fall back, though they might have done so,
and perhaps there would have been much sense in it;
and now at last the word Retire" was given; but our
little drummer beat Forward march!" for he had un-
derstood the command thus; and the soldiers obeyed
the soumd of the drum. That was a good roll, and
The Golden r-easure.
proved the summons to victory for the men, who had
already begun to give way.
Life and limb was lost in the battle. Bomb-shells
tore away the flesh in red strips; bomb-shells lit up
into a terrible glow the straw heaps to which the men
who were wounded had dragged themselves, to lie un-
tended for many hours, perhaps for all the hours they
had to live.
It's no use thinking of it, and yet one cannot help
thinking of it, even far away in the peaceful town. The
drummer and his wife also thought of it, for Peter was
at the war.
Now, I 'm tired of these complaints," said the Fire-
Again the day of battle dawned; the sun had not yet
risen, but it was morning. The drummer and his wife
were asleep: they had been talking about their son, as,
indeed, they did almost every night, for he was out
yonder, in God's hand. And the father dreamed that
the war was over, that the soldiers had returned home,
and that Peter wore a silver cross on his breast. But
the mother dreamed that she had gone into the church,
YPze Golden !Preasure.
and had seen the painted pictures and the carved angels
with the gilded hair, and her own dear boy, the golden
treasure of her heart, who was standing among the
angels in white robes, singing so sweetly as surely only
the angels can sing; and that he had soared up with
them into the sunshine, and nodded so kindly at his
"My golden treasure !" she cried out; and she awoke.
"Now the good God has taken him to Himself!" She
folded her hands, and hid her face in the cotton cur-
tains of the bed, and wept. "Where does he rest now,
among the many in the big grave that they have dug
for the dead ? Perhaps he's in the water of the marsh I
Nobody knows his grave; no holy words have been
read over it!" And the Lord's Prayer went inaudibly
over her lips; she bowed her head, and was so weary
that she went to sleep.
And the days went by, in life as in dreams.
It was evening: over the battle-field spread a rain-
bow, which touched the forest and the deep marsh.
It has been said, and is preserved in popular belief,
Thie Golde'n Trea~sure.
that where the rainbow touches the earth a treasure lies
buried, a golden treasure; and here there was one. No
one but his mother thought of the little drummer, and
therefore she dreamed of him.
Peter comes back.
And the days went by, in life as in dreams.
Not a hair of his head had been hurt, not a golden
" Drum-ma-rum dr-r-um-ma-rum there he is!" the
The Golden Treasure.
Drum might have said, and his mother might have
sung, if she had seen or dreamed it.
With hurrah and song, adorned with green wreaths
of victory, they came home, as the war was at an end,
and peace had been signed. The dog of the regiment
sprang on joyously in front with large bounds, and made
the way three times as long for himself as it really was.
And days and weeks went by, and Peter came into
his parents' room: he was as brown as a wild man, and
his eyes were bright, and his face beamed like sunshine.
And his mother held him in her arms; she kissed his
lips, his forehead, his red hair. She had her boy back
again; he had not a silver cross on his breast, as his
father had dreamed, but he had sound limbs, a thing
the mother had not dreamed. And what a rejoicing
was there They laughed and they wept; and Peter
embraced the old Fire-drum.
"There stands the old skeleton still!" he said.
And the father beat a roll upon it.
One would think that a great fire had broken out
here," said the Fire-drum. "-Bright day! fire in the
heart I golden treasure skrat skr-r-at I skr-r-r-at !"
The Golden Treasure.
'And what then? What then?-Ask the town musician.
" Peter's far outgrowing the drum," he said. Peter
will be greater than I."
And yet he was the son of a royal plate-washer;
but all that he had learned in half a lifetime, Peter
learned in half a year.
There was something so merry about him, something
so truly kind hearted. His eyes gleamed, and his hair
gleamed too-there was no denying that!
He ought to have his hair dyed," said the neigh-
bour's wife. That answered capitally with the police-
man's daughter, and she got a husband."
But her hair turned as green as duckweed, and was
always having to be coloured up."
"She knows how to manage for herself," said the
neighbours, and so can Peter. He comes to the most
genteel houses, even to the burgomaster's, where he
gives Miss Charlotte pianoforte lessons."
He could play! He could play, fresh out of his
heart, the most charming pieces, that had never yet
been put upon music-paper. He played in the bright
nights, and in the dark nights too. The neighbours
The Golden Treasure.
declared it was unbearable, and the Fire-drum was of
the same opinion. He played until his thoughts soared
up, and burst forth in great plans for the future
"To be famous !"
And burgomaster's Charlotte sat at the piano. Her
delicate fingers danced over the keys, and made them
ring into Peter's heart. It seemed too much for him
to bear; and this happened not once, but many times;
and at last one day he seized the delicate fingers and
the white hand, and kissed it, and looked into her
great brown eyes. Heaven knows what he said; but
we may be allowed to guess at it. Charlotte blushed
to guess at it. She reddened from brow to neck, and
answered not a single word; and then strangers came
into the room, and one of them was the state coun-
cillor's son : he had a lofty white forehead, and carried
it so high that it seemed to go back into his neck. And
Peter sat by her a long time, and she looked at him
with gentle eyes.
At home that evening he spoke of travel in'the wide
world, and of the golden treasure that lay hidden for
him in his violin. '"To be famous !"
7The Golden 7TreavitrC.
Tum-me-lum, tum-me-lum, tum-me-lum !" said the
Fire-drum. Peter has gone clean out of his wits. I
think there must be a fire in the house."
Next day the mother went to market.
Shall I tell you news, -Peter?" she asked when she
came home. A capital piece of news. Burgomaster's
Charlotte has engaged herself to the state councillor's
son; the betrothal took place yesterday evening."
The Golden Treasure.
"No!" cried Peter, and he sprang up from his chair.
But his mother persisted in saying "Yes." She had
heard it from the baker's wife, whose husband had it
from the burgomaster's own mouth.
And Peter became as pale as death, and sat down
Good Heaven! what's the matter with you?" asked
"Nothing, nothing; only leave me to myself," he
answered, but the tears were running down his cheeks.
"My sweet child, my golden treasure !" cried the
mother, and she wept; but the Fire-drum sang-not
out loud, but inwardly,
Charlotte's gone! Charlotte's gone I and now the
song is done."
But the song was not done; there were many more
verses in it, long verses, the most beautiful verses, the
golden treasures of a life.
"She behaves like a mad woman," said the neigh,
bour's wife. "All the world is to see the letters she
gets from her golden treasure, and to read the words
that are written about his violin playing. And he
Tlhe Golden Treasure.
sends her money too, and that's very useful to her
since she has been a widow."
He plays before emperors and kings," said the
town musician. "I never had that fortune; but he's
my-pupil, and he does not forget his old master."
And his mother said,
His father dreamed that Peter came home from tho
war with a silver cross. He did not gain one in the
war; but it is still more difficult to gain one in this
way. Now he has the cross of honour. If his father
had.only lived to see it !"
He 's grown famous !" said the Fire-drum; and
all his native town said the same thing, for the drum-
mer's son, Peter with the red hair-Peter whom they
had known as a little boy, running about in wooden
shoes, and then as a drummer, playing for the dancers
-was become famous!
He played at our house before he played in the
presence of kings," said the burgomaster's wife. "At
that time he was quite smitten with Charlotte. He
was always of an aspiring turn. At that time he was
saucy and an enthusiast. My husband laughed when
The Golden Treasure.
he neard of the foolish affair, and now our Charlotte's
a state councillor's wife."
A golden treasure had been hidden in the heart and
soul of the poor child, who had beaten the roll as a
drummer-a roll of victory for those who had been
ready to retreat. There was a golden treasure in his
bosom, the power of sound: it burst forth on his violin
as if the instrument had been a complete organ, and
as if the elves of a midsummer night were dancing
across the strings. In its sounds were heard the piping
of the thrush and the full clear note of the human
voice; therefore the sound brought rapture to every
heart, and carried his name triumphant through the
land. That was a great firebrand-the firebrand of
"And then he looks so splendid!" said the young
ladies and the old ladies too; and the oldest of all
procured an album for famous locks of hair, wholly
and solely that she might beg a lock of his rich splendid
hair, that treasure, that golden treasure.
And the son came into the poor room of the drummer,
elegant as a prince, happier than a king. His eyes were
The Golden Treasure.
as clear and his face was as radiant as sunshine; and
he held his mother in his arms, and she kissed his mouth,
and wept as blissfully as any one can weep for joy;
and he nodded at every old piece of furniture in the
room, at the cupboard with the tea-cups, and at the
flower-vase. He nodded at the sleeping-bench, where
he had slept as a little boy; but the old Fire-drum he
brought out, and dragged it into the .middle of the
room,. ad said to it and to his mother:
"My father would have beaten a famous roll this
,evening. Now I must do it!"
And he beat a thundering roll-call on the instrument,
and the Drum felt so highly honoured that the parch-
ment burst with exultation.
He has a splendid touch !" said the Drum. "I 've
a remembrance of him now that will last. I expect
that the same thing will happen to his mother, from
pure joy over her golden treasure."
And this is the story of the golden treasure.
lit the Nur-sery.
Settling up the Theatre.
IN THE NURSERY.
F ATHER, and mother, and brothers, and sisters,
were gone to the play; only little Anna and her
grandpapa were left at home.
"We '11 have a play, too," he said; "and it may be-
"But we have no theatre," cricd little Anna, and
we have no one to act for us; my old doll cannot, for
In th i~ aT-sery
she is a fright, and my new one cannot, for she must
not rumple her new clothes."
"One can always get actors if one makes use of
what one has," observed grandpapa.
"Now we'll go into the theatre. Here we will put
up a book, there another, and there a third, in a sloping
row. Now three on the other side; so, now we have
the side-scenes. The old box that lies yonder may be
the back stairs; and we '11 lay the flooring on top of it,
The stage represents a room, as every one may see,
Now we want the actors. Let us see what we can find
in the plaything-box. First the. personages, and then
we will get the play ready: one after the other, that
will be capital! Here's a pipe-head, and yonder an
odd glove; they will do very well for father and
But those are only two characters," said little Anna,
"Here's my brother's old'waistcoat-could not that
play in our piece, too ? "
It's big enough, certainly," replied grandpapa.
"It shall be the lover. There is nothing in the pockets,
and that's very interesting, for that's half of an un-
In the Nursery.
fortunate attachment. And here we have the nut-
cracker's boots, with spurs to them. Row, dow, dow!
how they can stamp and strut! They shall represent
the unwelcome wooer, whom the lady does not like.
What kind of play will you have now ? Shall it be a
tragedy, or a domestic drama?"
"A domestic drama, please," said little Anna; "for
the others are so fond of that. Do you know one ?"
I know a hundred," said grandpapa. Those that
are most in favour are from the French, but they are
not good for little girls. In the meantime, we may
take one of the prettiest, for inside they're all very
much alike. Now I shake the pen Cock-a-lorum !
So now, here's the play, brin-bran-span new! Now
listen to the playbill."
And grandpapa took a newspaper, and read as if he
were reading from it:
THE PIPE-HEAD AND THE GOOD HEAD.
A Family Drama in one Act.
MR. PIPE-HEAD, a father, MR. WAISTCOAT, a lover,
Miss GLOVE, a daughter, MR. Dr BOOTS, a suitor.
In the Nursery.
"And now we're going to begin. The curtain
rises: we have no curtain, so it has risen already. All
the characters are there, and so we have them at hand.
Now I speak as Papa Pipe-head; he's angry to-day.
One can see that he's a coloured meerschaum
"' Snik, snak, snurre, bassellurre I 'm master of
this house! I 'm the father of my daughter Will you
hear what I have to say ? Mr. de Boots is a person in
whom one may see one's face; his upper part is of
morocco, and he has spurs into the bargain. Snikke,
snakke, snak He shall have my daughter !'
Now listen to what the Waistcoat says, little Anna,"
said grandpapa. Now the Waistcoat's speaking.
The Waistcoat has a lay-down collar, and is very
modest; but he knows his own value, and has quite a
right to say what he says :
"' I haven't a spot on me! Goodness of material
ought to be appreciated. I am of real silk, and have
strings to me.'
'-On the wedding day, but no longer : you don't
keep your colour in the wash.' This is Mr. Pipe-head
who is speaking. Mr. de Boots is water-tight, of strong
In the Nursery.
leather, and yet very delicate; he can creak, and clank
with his spurs, and has an Italian physiognomy-''"
"But they ought to speak in verses," said Anna,
"for I 've heard that's the most charming way of all."
They can do that, too," replied grandpapa; and
if the public demands it, they will talk in that way.
Just look at little Miss Glove, how she's pointing her
"'Could I but have my love,
Who then so happy as Glove!
If I from him must part,
I'm sure 'twill break my heart "
That last word was spoken by Mr. Pipe-head; and
now it's Mr. Waistcoat's turn
0 Glove, my own dear,
Though it cost thee a tear,
Thou must be mine,
For Holger Danske has sworn it!'
." Mr. de Boots, hearing this, kicks up, jingles his
spurs, and knocks down three of the side scenes."
"That's exceedingly charming !" cried little Anna.
In the Nursery, 25
"Silence! silence!" said grandpapa. "Silent appro-
bation will show that you are the educated public in
the stalls. Now Miss Glove sings her great song with
"'I can't see, heigho!
And therefore I '11 crow!
Kikkeriki, in the lofty hall!'
"Now comes the exciting part, little Anna. This is
the most important part in all the play. Mr. Waist-
coat undoes himself, and addresses his speech to you,
that you may applaud ; but leave it alone,-that's con-
sidered more genteel.
"' I am driven to extremities Take care of your-
self Now comes the plot You are the Pipe-head,
and I am the good head-snap there you go !'
"Do you notice this, little Anna?" said grandpapa.
"That's a most charming scene and comedy; Mr.
Waistcoat seized the old Pipe-head, and put him in his
pocket; there he lies, and the Waistcoat says :
"'You are in my pocket; you can't come out till
you promise to unite me to your daughter Glove on
the left : I hold out my right hand.'"
Int the Nursery
"That's awfully pretty," said little Anna.
"And now the old Pipe-head replies:
Though I 'm all ear,
Very stupid I appear:
Where's my humour ? Gone, I fear,
And I feel my hollow stick 's not here.
Ah! never, my dear
Did I feel so queer.
Oh pray let me out,
And, like a lamb led to slaughter,
I'll betroth you, no doubt,
To my daughter.'"
Is the play over already ? asked little Anna.
"By no means," replied grandpapa. "It's only all
over with Mr. de Boots. Now the lovers kneel down,
and one of them sings:
and the other,
"' Come, do as you ought to do,-
Bless your son and daughter.'
And they receive his blessing, and celebrate their wed-
ding, and all the pieces of furniture sing in chorus,
A thousand thanks;
And now the play is over!'
"And now we '11 applaud," said grandpapa. "We 'll
call them all out, and the pieces of furniture too, for
they are of mahogany."
"And is not our play just as good as those which
the others have in the real theatre ?"
"Our play is much better," said grandpapa. It is
shorter, the performers are natural, and it has passed
away the interval before tea-time."
A WINDMILL stood upon the hill, proud to look
at, and it was proud too.
"I am not proud at all," it said, "but I am very
much enlightened without and within. I have sun and
moon for my outward use, and for inward use too;
and into the bargain I have stearine candles, train oil
lamps, and tallow candles; I may well say that I 'm
enlightened. I am a thinking being, and so well con-
structed that it's quite delightful. I have a good wind-
pipe in my chest, and I have four wings that are placed
outside my head, just beneath my hat; the birds have
only two wings, and are obliged to carry them on their
backs. I am a Dutchman by birth, that may be seen
by my figure-a flying Dutchman. They are consi-
dered supernatural beings, I know, and yet I am quite
natural. I have a gallery round my chest, and house-
room beneath it; that's where my thoughts dwell. My
strongest thought, who rules and reigns, is called by
the others, the man in the mill.' He knows what he
wants, and is lord over the meal and the bran; but he
has his companion too, and she calls herself Mother.'
She is the very heart of me. She does not run about
stupidly and awkwardly, for she knows what she wants,
she knows what she can do, she's as soft as a zephyr
and as strong as a storm; she knows how to begin a
thing carefully, and to have her own way. She is my
soft temper, and the father is my hard one : they are
two, and yet one; they each call the other My half.'
These two have some little boys, young thoughts, that
can grow. The little ones keep everything in order.
The Miller and his Family.
When, lately, in my wisdom, I let the father and the
boys examine my throat and the hole in my chest, to
see what was going on there-for something in me was
out of order, and it's well to examine one's self-the
little ones made a tremendous noise. The youngest
jumped up into my hat, and shouted so there that it
tickled me. The little thoughts may grow; I know
that very well; and out in the world thoughts come too,
and not only of my kind, for as far as I can see I can-
not discern anything like myself; but the wingless
houses, whose throats make no noise, have thoughts
too, and these come to my thoughts, and make love to
them, as it is called. It's wonderful enough-yes,
there are many wonderful things. Something has come
over me, or into me,-something has changed in the
mill-work : it seems as if the one-half, the father, had
altered, and had received a better temper and a more
affectionate, helpmate-so young and good, and yet
the same, only more gentle and good through the
course of time. What was bitter has passed away, and
the whole is much more comfortable.
"The days go on, and the days come nearer and
nearer to clearness and to joy; and then a day will
come when it will be over with me; but not over alto-
gether. I must be pulled down that I may be built up
again; I shall cease, but yet shall live on. To become
quite a different being, and yet to remain the same!
That's difficult for mie to understand, however enlight-
ened I may be with sun, moon, stearine, train oil, and
tallow. My old wood-work and my old brick-work will
rise again from the dust !
"I will hope that I may keep my old thoughts, the
father in the mill, and the mother, great ones and little
ones-the family; for I call them all, great and little,
the company of thoughts, because I must, and cannot
refrain from it.
"And I must also remain 'myself,' with my throat
in my chest, my wings on my head, the gallery round
my body; else I should not know myself, nor could
the others know me, and say, There's the mill on the
hill, proud to look at, and yet not proud at all.'"
That is what the mill said. Indeed, it said much
more, but that is the most important part.
And the days came, and the days went, and yester-
day was the last day.
Then the mill caught fire. The flames rose up high,
and beat out and in, and bit at the beams and planks,
and ate them up. The mill fell, and nothing remained
of it but a heap of ashes. The smoke drove across the
scene of the conflagration, and the wind carried it away.
Whatever had been alive in the mill remained, and
what had been gained by it has nothing to do with this
The miller's family-one soul, many thoughts, and
yet only one-built a new, a splendid mill, which an-
swered.its purpose. It was quite like the old one, and
people said, Why, yonder is the mill on the hill,
proud to look at !" But this mill was better arranged,
more according to the time than the last, so that pro-
gress might be made. The old beams had become
worm-eaten and spongy-they lay in dust and ashes.
The body of the mill did not rise out of the dust as
they had believed it would do : they had taken it liter-
ally, and all things are not to be taken literally.
The Silver S/illinig.
"Careless youth rolled-Aim lightly away."
THE SILVER SHILLING.
T HERE was once a Shilling. He came out quite
bright from the Mint, and sprang up, and rang
out, Hurrah! now I 'm off into the wide world."
And into the wide world he certainly went.
The child held him with soft warm hands; the miser
clutched him in a cold avaricious palm; the old man
turned him goodness knows how many times before
the Silver Shilling.
parting with him; while careless youth rolled him lightly
away. The Shilling was of silver, and had very little
copper about him: he had been now a whole year in
the world-that is to say, in the country in which he
had been struck. But one day he started on his foreign
travels; he was the last native coin in the purse borne
by his travelling master. The gentleman was himself
not aware that he still had this coin until he came across
it by chance.
"Why, here's a shilling from home left to me," he
said. "Well, he can make the journey with me."
And the Shilling rattled and jumped for joy as it was
thrust back into the purse. So here it lay among strange
companions, who came and went, each making room
for a successor; but the Shilling from home always re-
mained in the bag; which was a distinction for it.
Several weeks had gone by, and the Shilling had
travelled far out into the world without exactly knowing
where he was, though he learned from the other coins
that they were French or Italian. One said they were
in such and such a town, another that they had reached
such and such a spot; but the Shilling could form no
The Silver Shilling
idea of all this. He who has his head in a bag sees
nothing; and this was the case with the Shilling. But
one day, as he lay there, he noticed that the purse was
not shut, and so he crept forward to the opening, to
take a look around. He ought not to have done so ;
but he was inquisitive, and people often have to pay
for that. He slipped out into the fob; and when the
purse was taken out at night the Shilling remained be-
hind, and was sent out into the passage with the clothes.
There he fell upon the floor : no one heard it, no one
Next morning the clothes were carried back into the
room; the gentleman put them on, and continued his
journey, while the. Shilling remained behind. The coin
was found, and was required to go into service again,
-so he was sent out with three other coins.
"It is a pleasant thing to look about one in the
world," thought the Shilling, "and to get to know
strange people and foreign customs."
And now began the history of the Shilling, as told
"' Away wikh him, he's bad-no use.' These words
The Silver Shilling.
went through and through me," said the Shilling. I
know I sounded well and had been properly coined.
The people were certainly mistaken. They could not
mean mer But, yes, they did mean me : I was the
one of whom they said, He's bad-he's no good.' I
must get rid of that fellow in the dark,' said the man
who had received me; and I was passed at night, and
abused in the day-time. Bad-no good !' was the cry:
'we must make haste and get rid of him.'
"And I trembled in the fingers of the holder each
time I was'to be secretly passed on as a coin of the
"What a miserable shilling I am Of what use is
my silver to me, my value, my coinage, if all these
things are looked on as worthless ? In the eyes of the
world one has only the value the world chooses to put
upon one. It must be terrible indeed to have a bad
conscience, and to creep along on evil ways, if I, who
am quite innocent, can feel so badly because I am only
"Each time I was brought out I shuddered at the
thought of the eyes that would look at me, for I knew
The Silver S/iilling.
that I should be rejected and flung back upon the table,
like an 'impostor and a cheat. Once I came into the
hands of a poor old woman, to whom I was paid for
a hard day's work, and she could not get rid of me at
all. No one would accept me, and I was a perfect
worrit to the old dame.
"' I shall certainly be forced to deceive some one
with this shilling,' she said; for, with the best will in
the world, I can't hoard up a false shilling. The rich
baker shall have him; he will be able to bear the loss
-but it's wrong in me to do it, after all.'
"' And I must lie heavy on that woman's conscience
too,' sighed I. Am I really so much changed in my
old age ?'
And the woman went her way to the rich baker;
but he knew too well what kind of shillings would pass
to take me, and he threw me back at the woman, who
got no bread for me. And I felt miserably low to think
that I should be the cause of distress to others-I who
had been in my young days so proudly conscious of my
value and of the correctness of my mintage. I became
as miserable as a poor shilling can be whom no one will
38 The Silver Shilling.
accept; but the woman took me home again, and looked
at me with a friendly, hearty face, and said,
"' No, I will not deceive any one with thee. I will
bore a hole through thee, that every one may see thou
art a false thing. And yet-it just occurs to me-per-
haps this is a lucky shilling; and the thought comes so
strongly upon me that I am sure it must be true I I
will make a hole through the shilling, and pass a string
through the hole, and hang the coin round the neck of
my neighbour's little boy for a lucky shilling,'
"So she bored a hole through me. It is certainly
not agreeable to have a hole bored through one; but
many things can be borne when the intention is good.
A thread was passed through the hole, and I became
a kind of medal, and was hung round the neck of the
little child; and the child smiled at me, and kissed me,
and I slept all night on its warm, innocent neck.
"When the morning came, the child's mother took
me up in her fingers and looked at me, and she had
her dwn thoughts about me, I could feel that very well.
She brought out a pair of scissors, and cut the string
The Silling made into a Medal.
The Silver Shilling. 39
"' A lucky shilling !' she said. Well, we shall soon
"And she laid me in vinegar, so that I turned quite
green. Then she plugged up the hole, and carried mfie,
in the evening twilight, to the lottery collector, to buy
a lottery ticket that should bring her luck.
"How miserably wretched I felt! There was a sting-
ing feeling in me as if I should crumble to bits. I knew
that I should be called false and thrown down-and
before a crowd of other shillings and coins, too, who
lay there with an image and superscription of which
they might be proud. But I escaped that disgrace, for
there were many people in the collector's room-he
had a great deal to do, and I went rattling down into
the box among the other coins. Whether my ticket
won anything or not I don't know; but this I do know,
that the very next morning I was recognized as a bad
shilling, and was sent out to deceive and deceive again.
That is a very trying thing to bear when one knows one
has a good character, and of that I am conscious.
"For a year and a day I thus wandered from house
to house and from hand to hand, always abused, always
40 The Silver Skilling.
unwelcome : no one trusted me; and I lost confidence
in the world and in myself. It was a heavy time. At
last, one day a traveller, a strange gentleman, arrived,
and I was passed to him, and he was polite enough to
accept me for current coin ; but he wanted to pass me
on, and again I heard the horrible cry,' No use-false !'
I received it as a good coin,' said the man, and
he looked closely at me : suddenly he smiled all over
his face; and I had never seen that expression before
on any face that looked at me. 'Why, whatever is
that ?' he said. That's one of our own country coins,
a good honest shilling from my home, and they've bored
a hole through him, and they call him false. Now, this
is a curious circumstance. I must keep him and take
him home with me.'
"A glow of joy thrilled through me when I heard
myself called a good honest shilling; and now I was
to be taken home, where each and every one would
know me, and be sure that I was real silver and properly
coined. I could have thrown out sparks for very glad-
ness ; but, after all, it's not in my nature to throw out
sparks, for that's the property of steel, not of silver.
The Silver Shilling.
I was wrapped up in clean white paper, so that I
should not be confounded with the other coins, and
spent; and on festive occasions, when fellow-country-
men met together, I was shown about, and they spoke
very well of me: they said I was interesting-and it is
wonderful how interesting one can be without saying a
"And at last I got home again. All my troubles
were ended, joy came back to me, for I was of good
silver, and had the right stamp, and I had no more
disagreeables to endure, though a hole had been bored
through me, as through a false coin; but that does not
matter if one is not really false. One must wait for
the end, and one will be righted at last-that's my
belief," said the Shilling.
The Hardy Til Soldier.
'lhe Birthday Present.
THE HARDY TIN SOLDIER.
T HERE were once five and twenty tin soldiers;
they were all brothers, for they had all been born
of one old tin spoon. They shouldered their muskets,
and looked straight before them: their uniform was
red and blue, and very splendid. The first thing they
had heard in the world, when the lid was taken off
their box, had been the words Tin soldiers !" These
The Hardy Tin Soldier. 43
words were uttered by a little boy, clapping his hands:
the soldiers had been given to him, for it was his
birthday ; and now he put them upon the table. Each
soldier was exactly like the rest; but one of them had
been cast last of all, and there had not been enough
tin to finish him; but he stood as firmly upon his one
leg as the others on their two; and it was just this
Soldier who became remarkable.
On the table on which they had been placed stood
many other playthings, but the toy that attracted most
attention was a neat castle of cardboard. Through
the little windows one could see straight into the hall.
Before the castle some little trees were placed round a
little looking-glass, which was to represent a clear lake.
Waxen swans swam on this lake, and were mirrored
in it. This was all very pretty; but the prettiest of
all was a little lady, who stood at the open door of
the castle: she was also cut out in paper, but she had
a dress of the clearest gauze, and a little narrow blue
ribbon over her shoulders, that looked like a scarf;
and in the middle of this ribbon was a shining tinsel
rose as big as her whole face. The little lady stretched
The Hardy Tin Soldier.
out both her arms, for she was a dancer; and then
she lifted one leg so high that the Tin Soldier could
not see it at all, and thought that, like himself, she
had but one leg.
That would be the wife for me," thought h6; "but
she is very grand. She lives in a castle, and I have
only a box, and there are five and twenty of us in that.
It is no place for her. But I must try to make ac-
quaintance with her."
And then he lay down at full leiagth behind a snuff-
box which was on the table; there he could easily
watch the little dainty lady, who continued to stand
on one leg without losing her balance.
When the evening came, all the other tin soldiers
were put into their box, and the people in the house
went to bed. Now the toys began to play at "visiting,"
and at war," and giving balls." The tin soldiers
rattled in their box, for they wanted to join, but could
not lift the lid. The nutcracker threw somersaults,
and the pencil amused itself on the table: there was
so much noise that the canary woke up, and began to
speak too, and even in verse. The only two who did
The Hardy Tin Soldier.
not stir from their places were the Tin Soldier and the
dancing lady: she stood straight up on the point of
one of her toes, and stretched out both her arms; and
he was just as enduring on his one leg; and he never
turned his eyes away from her.
Now the clock struck twelve-and, bounce !--the
lid flew off the snuff-box; but there was not snuff in
it, but a little black Goblin : you see, it was a trick.
"Tin Soldier said the Goblin, "don't stare at
things that don't concern you."
But the Tin Soldier pretended not to hear him.
Just you wait till to-morrow said the Goblin.
But when the morning came, and the children got
up, the Tin Soldier was placed in the window; and
whether it was the Goblin or the draught that did it,
all at once the window flew open, and the Soldier fell
head over heels out of the third storey. That was a
terrible passage He put his leg straight up, and
stuck with his helmet downwards and his bayonet be-
tween the paving-stones.
The servant-maid and the little boy came down
directly to look for him, but though they almost trod
The Hardy Tin Soldier.
upon him they could not see him. If the Soldier had
cried out Here I am they would have found him;
but he did not think it fitting to call out loudly, be-
cause he was in uniform.
Now it began to rain; the drops soon fell thicker,
and at last it came down in a complete stream. When
the rain was past, two street boys came by.
"Just look!" said one of them, "there lies a tin
soldier. He must come out and ride in the boat."
And they made a boat out of a newspaper, and put
the Tin Soldier in the middle of it ; and so he sailed
down the gutter, and the two boys ran beside him and
clapped their hands. Goodness preserve us how the
waves rose in that gutter, and how fast the stream ran!
But then it had been a heavy rain. The paper boat
rocked up and down, and sometimes turned round so
rapidly that the Tin Soldier trembled; but he remained
firm, and never changed countenance, and looked
straight before him, and shouldered his musket.
All at once the boat went into a long drain, and it
became as dark as if he had been in his box.
Where am I going now?" he thought. "Yes,
The Hardy Tin Soldier.
yes, that's the Goblin's fault. Ah if the little lady
only sat here with me in the boat, it might be twice as
dark for what I should care."
Suddenly there came a great Water Rat, which lived
under the drain.
Have you a passport ? said the Rat. Give me
'But the Tin Soldier kept silence, and only held his
musket tighter than ever.
The boat went on, but the Rat came after it. Hu !
how he gnashed his teeth, and called out to the bits
of straw and wood,
Hold him! hold him! he hasn't paid toll-he
hasn't shown his passport !"
But the stream became stronger and stronger. The
Tin Soldier could see the bright daylight where the
arch ended; but he heard a roaring noise, which might
well frighten a bolder man. Only think-just where
the tunnel ended, the drain ran into a great canal;
and for him that would have been as dangerous as for
us to be carried down a great waterfall.
Now he was already so near it that he could not
The Hardy Tin Soldier.
stop. The boat was carried out, the poor Tin Soldier
stiffening himself as much as he could, and no one
could say that he moved an eyelid. The boat whirled
round three or four times, and was full of water to the
very edge-it must sink. The Tin Soldier stood up
to his neck in water, and the boat sank deeper and
deeper, and the paper was loosened more and more ;
and now the water closed over the Soldier's head.
Then he thought of the pretty little dancer, and how
he should never see her again ; and it sounded in the
Farewell, farewell, thou warrior brave,
For this day thou must die! "
And now the paper parted, and.the Tin Soldier fell
out; but at that moment he was snapped up by a
Oh, how dark it was in that fish's body! It was
darker yet than in the drain tunnel ; and then it was
very narrow too. But the Tin Soldier remained un-
moved, and lay at full length shouldering his musket.
The fish swam to and fro; he made the most won-
77w 17/drdy T'ill So/dh're.
derful movements, and then became quite still. At
last something flashed through him like lightning.
The daylight shone quite clear, and a voice said aloud,
" The Tin Soldier !" The fish had been caught, car-
ried to market, bought, and taken into the kitchen,
where the cook cut him open with a large knife. She
seized the Soldier round the body with both her hands,
and carried him into the room, where all were anxious
to see the remarkable man who had travelled about in
the inside of a fish; but the Tin Soldier was not at
all proud. They placed him on the table, and there
-no What curious things may happen in the world !
The Tin Soldier was in the very room in which he had
been before he saw the same children, and the same/
toys stood upon the table ; and there was the pretty
castle with the graceful little dancer. She was still
balancing herself on one leg, and held the other ex-
tended in the air. She was hardy too. That moved
the Tin Soldier : he was very nearly weeping tin tears,
but that would not have been proper. He looked at
her, but they said nothing to-each other.
Then one of the little boys took the Tin Soldier
Tile Rardy Tin Soldicr.
and flung him into the stove. He gave no reason for
doing this. It must have been the fault of the Goblin
in the snuff-box.
The Tin Soldier stood there quite illuminated, and
felt a heat that was terrible; but whether this heat
proceeded from the real fire or from love he did not
know. The colours had quite gone off from him; but
whether that had happened on the journey, or had
been caused by grief, no one could say. He looked
at the little lady, she looked at him, and he felt that
he was melting; but he stood firm, shouldering his
musket. Then suddenly the door flew open, and the
draught of air caught the dancer, and she flew like a
sylph just into the stove to the Tin Soldier, and flashed
up in a flame, and then was gone Then the Tin
Soldier melted down' into a lump, and when the ser-
vant-maid took the ashes out next day, she found him
in the shape of a little tin heart. But of the dancer
nothing remained but the tinsel rose, and that was
burned as black as a coal.
Lit//c Ititzs r/loW'rIIS.
Little Ida showing her dead Flowers to the Student.
LITTLE IDA'S FLOWERS.
Y/ poor flowers are quite dead!' said little Ida.
LV. They were so pretty yesterday, and now all
the leaves hang withered. Why do they do that?" she
asked the student, who sat on the sofa; for she liked
him very much. He knew the prettiest stories, and
could cut out the most amusing pictures-hearts, with
little ladies in them who danced, flowers, and great
Little Ida's Flowers.
castles in which one could open the doors; he was a
merry student. Why do the flowers look so faded to-
day?" she asked again, and showed him a nosegay,
which was quite withered.
"Do you know what's the matter with them ?" said
the student. "The flowers have been at a ball last
night, and that's why they hang their heads."
But flowers cannot dance !" cried little Ida.
Oh, yes," said the student, when it grows dark,
and we are asleep, they jump about merrily. Almost
every night they have a ball."
"Can children go to this ball ?"
"Yes," said the student, "quite little daisies, and
lilies of the valley."
"Where do the beautiful flowers dance ?" asked Ida.
Have you not often been outside the town gate, by
the great castle, where the king lives in summer, and
where the beautiful garden is with all the flowers ? You
have seen the swans, which swim up to you when you
want to give them bread crumbs? There are capital
balls there, believe me."
I was out there in the garden yesterday, with nmy
Little A/a's Flowers.
mother," said Ida; but all the leaves were off the
trees, and there was not one flower left. Where are
they ? In the summer I saw so many."
They are within, in the castle," replied the student.
"You must know, as soon as the king and all the court
go to town, the flowers run out of the garden into the
castle and are merry. You should see that. The two
most beautiful roses seat themselves on the throne, and
then they are king and queen; all the red coxcombs
range themselves on either side, and stand and bow:
they are the chamberlains. Then all the pretty flowers
come, and there is a great ball. The blue violets re-
present little naval cadets : they dance with hyacinths
and crocuses, which they call young ladies; the tulips
and the great tiger-lilies are old ladies who keep watch
that the dancing is well done, and that everything goes
on with propriety."
"But," asked little Ida, is nobody there who hurts
the flowers, for dancing in the king's castle ? "
"There is nobody who really knows about it," an-
swered the student. Sometimes, certainly, the old
steward of the castle comes at night, and he has to
Zi/tle k a's Flowers.
watch there. He has a great bunch of keys with him;
but as soon as the flowers hear the. keys. rattle they
are quite quiet, hide behind the long curtains, and only,
poke their heads out. Then the old steward says, I
smell that there are flowers here,' but he cannot s.ee
This is famous !" cried little Ida, clapping her
hands. "But should not I be able to see the flowers ?"'
"Yes," said the student: only remember, when
you go out again, to peep through the window; then
you will see them. That is what I did to-day. There
was a long yellow lily lying on the sofa and stretching
herself. She was a court lady."
Can the flowers out of the Botanical Garden get
there ? Can they go the long distance ?"
"Yes, certainly," replied the student; "if they like
they can fly. Have you not seen the beautiful butter-
flies, red, yellow, and white ? They almost look like
flowers; and that is what they have been. They have
flown off their stalks high into the air, and have beaten
it with their leaves, as if these leaves were little wings,
and thus they flew. And because they behaved them,
1#110e Ida's Fiolv'trf.
selves well, they got leave to fly about in the day-time
too, and were not obliged to sit still upon their stalks
at home ; and thus at last the leaves became real wings.
That you have seen yourself. It may be, however,
that the flowers in the Botanical Garden have never
been in the king's castle, or that they don't know of
the merry proceedings there at night. Therefore I will
tell you something: he will be very much surprised,
the botanical professor, who lives close by here. You
know him, do you not? When you come into his gar-
den, you must tell one of the flowers that there is a
great ball yonder in the castle. Then that flower will
tell it to all the rest, and then they will fly away: when
the professor comes out into the garden, there will nof
be a single flower left, and he won't be able to make
out where they are gone."
But how can one flower tell it to another? For,
you know, flowers cannot speak."
"That they cannot, certainly," replied the student;
"but then they make signs. Have you not noticed
that when the wind blows a little, the flowers nod at
one another, and move all their green leaves ? They
Little Ida's Flowers.
can understand that just as well as we when we speak
"Can the professor understand these signs ?" asked
Yes, certainly. He came one morning into his
garden, and saw a great stinging-nettle standing there,
and making signs to a beautiful red carnation with its
leaves. It was saying, You are so pretty, and I love
you with all my heart.' But the professor does not like
that kind of thing, and he directly slapped the sting-
ing-nettle upon its leaves, for those are its fingers ; but
he stung himself, and since that time he has not dared
to touch a stinging-nettle."
"That is funny," cried little Ida; and she laughed.
How can any one put such notions into a child's
head ? said the tiresome privy councillor, who had
come to pay a visit, and was sitting on the sofa. He
did not like the student, and always grumbled when he
saw him cutting out the merry funny pictures-some-
times a man hanging on a gibbet and holding a heart
in his hand, to show that he stole hearts; sometimes
an old witch riding on a broom, and carrying her hus-
Little Ida putting the sick Flowers m Dolly's Bed.
Little Ida's Flowe~'s.
band on her nose. The councillor could not bear 'this,
and then he said, just as he did now, How can any
one put such notions into a child's head ? Those are
stupid fancies !"
But to little Ida, what the student told about her
flowers seemed very droll; and she thought much about
it. The flowers hung their heads, for they were tired
because they had danced all night; they were certainly
ill. Then she went with them to her other toys, which
stood on a pretty little table, and the whole drawer was
full of beautiful things. In the doll's bed lay her doll
Sophy, asleep; but little Ida said to her,
"You must really get up, Sophy, and manage to lie
in the drawer for to-night. The poor flowers are ill,
and they must lie in your bed; perhaps they will then
get well again."
And she at once took the doll out; but the doll
looked cross, and did not say a single word; for she
was cross because she could not keep her own bed.
Then Ida laid the flowers in the doll's bed, pulled
the little coverlet quite up over them, and said they
were to lie still and be good, and. she would make
1i/tte Ida's .Flocer-s,
them some tea, so that they might get well again, and
be able to get up to-morrow. And she drew the cur-
tains closely round the little bed, so that the sun should
not shine in their eyes. The whole evening through
she could not help thinking of what the student had
told her. And when she was going to bed herself, she
was obliged first to look behind the curtains which
hung before the windows where her mother's beautiful
flowers stood -hyacinths as well as tulips; then she
whispered, "I know you are going to the ball to.
night !" But the flowers made as if they did not un-
derstand a word, and did not stir a leaf; but still little
Ida knew what she knew.
When she was in bed she lay for a long time think-
ing how pretty it must be to see the beautiful Bowers
dancing out in the king's castle. "I wonder if my
flowers have really been there ?" And then she fell
asleep. In the night she woke up again: she had
dreamed of the flowers, and of the student with whom
the councillor found fault. It was quite quiet in the
bed-room where Ida lay; the night-lamp burned on
the table, and father and mother were asleep.
Litte Ida's Flowers.
I wonder if my flowers are still lying in Sophy's
bed ?" she thought to herself. How I should like
to know it !" She raised herself a little, and looked
at the door, which stood ajar: within lay the flowers
and all her playthings. She listened, and then it
seemed to her as if she heard some one playing on
the piano in the next room, but quite softly and prettily,
as she had never heard it before.
"Now all the flowers are certainly dancing in there !'
thought she. Oh, how glad I should be to see it !'"
But she dared not get up, for shq would have dis-
turbed her father and mother.
"If they would only come in! thought she, But
the flowers did not come, and the music continued to
play beautifully; then she could not bear it any longer,
for it was too pretty; she crept out of her little bed,
and went quietly to the door, and looked into the
Oh, how splendid it was, what she saw !
There was no night-lamp burning, but still it was
quite light: the moon shone through the window into.
the middle of the floor; it was almost like day. All'
Little Ida's Flowers.
the hyacinths and tulips stood in two long rows in the
room; there were none at all left at the window-
there stood the empty flower-pots. On the floor all
the flowers were dancing very gracefully round each
other, making perfect turns, and holding each other
by the long green leaves as they swang round. But
at the piano sat a great yellow lily, which little Ida
had certainly seen in summer, for she remembered
how the student had said, How like that one is to
Miss Lina." Then he had been laughed at by all;
but now it seemed really to' little Ida as if the long
yellow flower looked like the young lady; and it had
just her manners in playing-sometimes bending its
long yellow face to one side, sometimes to the other,
and nodding in tune to the charming music No one
noticed little Ida. Then she saw a great blue crocus
hop into the middle of the table, where the toys stood,
and go to the doll's bed and pull the curtains aside;
there lay the sick flowers, but they got up directly, and
nodded to the others, to say that they wanted to dance
too. The old chimney-sweep doll, whose under lip
was broken off, stood up and bowed to the pretty
Little Ida's Flowers.
Ida watching the dancing Flowers.
flowers : these did not look at all ill now; they jumped
down to the others, and were very merry.
Then it seemed as if something fell down from the
table. Ida looked that way. It was the birch rod
which was jumping down it seemed almost as if it
belonged to the flowers. At any rate it was very neat;
and a little wax doll, with just such a broad hat on its
head as the councillor wore, sat upon it. The birch
rod hopped about among the flowers on its three legs,
Littlet Ida's Flowers.
and stamped quite loud, for it was dancing the ma-
zourka; and the other flowers could not manage that
dance, because they were too light, and unable to
stamp like that.
The wax doll on the birch rod all at once became
quite great and long, turned itself over the paper
flowers, and said, How can one put such things in a
child's head ? those are stupid fancies and then the
wax doll was exactly like the councillor with the broad
hat, and looked just as yellow and cross as he. But
the paper flowers hit him on his thin legs, and then he
shrank up again, and became quite a little wax doll.
That was very amusing to see; and little Ida could
not restrain her laughter. The birch rod went on
dancing, and the councillor was obliged to dance too;
it was no use, he might make himself great and long,
or remain the little yellow wax doll with the big black
hat. Then the other flowers put in a good word for
him, especially those who had lain in the doll's bed,
and then the birch rod gave over. At the same mo
ment there was a loud knocking at the drawer, inside
where Ida's Coll, Sophy, lay with many other toys.
litle/ -Ma's Flowers.
The chimney-sweep ran to the edge of the table, lay
flat down on his stomach, and began to pull the drawer
out a little. Then Sophy raised herself, and looked
round quite astonished.
"There must be a ball here," said she; "why did
nobody tell me ? "
"Will you dance with me?" asked the chimney-
You are a nice sort of fellow to dance !" she re4
plied, and turned her back upon him.
Then she seated herself upon the drawer, and,
thought that one of the flowers would come and ask
her; but not one of them came. Then she coughed;
"Hem! hem! hem!" but for all that not one came.
The chimney-sweep now danced all alone, and that
Was not at all so bad.
As none of the flowers seemed to notice Sophy, she
let herself fall down from the drawer straight upon the
floor, so that there was a great noise. The flowers
how all came running up, to ask if she had not hurt
herself; and they were all very polite to her, especially
the flowers that had lain in her bed. But she had not
Little Ida's Flowers. .
hurt herself at all; and Ida's flowers all thanked her
for the nice bed, and were kind to her, took her into
the middle of the room, where the moon shone in,
and danced with her ; and all the other flowers formed
a circle round her. Now Sophy was glad, and said
they might keep her bed; she did not at all mind
lying in the drawer.
But the flowers said, "We thank you heartily, but
in any way we cannot live long. To-morrow we shall
be quite dead. But tell little Ida she is to bury us
out in the garden, where the canary lies; then we
shall wake up again in summer, and be far more beau-
No, you must not die," said Sophy; and she kissed
Then the room door opened, and a great number
of splendid flowers came dancing in. Ida could not
imagine whence they had come ; these must certainly
all be flowers from the king's castle yonder. First of
all came two glorious roses, and they had little gold
crowns on; they were a king and a queen. Then
came the prettiest stocks and carnations; and they
-Little Zdla's Fiowel-S.
bowed in all directions. They had music with them.
Great poppies and peonies blew upon pea pods till
they were quite red in the face. The blue hyacinths
and the little white snowdrops rang just as if they had
been bells. That was wonderful music Then came
many other flowers, and danced all together; the blue
violets and the pink primroses, daisies and the lilies of
the valley. And all the flowers kissed one another.
It was beautiful to look at I
At last the flowers wished one another good night;
then little Ida, too, crept to bed, where she dreamed
of all she had seen.
When she rose next morning, she went quickly to
the little table, to see if the pretty flowers were still
there. She drew aside the curtains of the little bed;
there were they all, but they were quite faded, far more
than yesterday. Sophy was lying in the drawer where
Ida had laid her; she looked very sleepy.
Do you remember what you were to say to me ?"
asked little Ida.
But Sophy looked quite stupid, and did not say a
Little Ida's Flowers.
You are not good at all !" said Ida. And yet
they all danced with you."
Then she took a little paper box, on which were
painted beautiful birds, and opened it, and laid the
dead flowers in it.
That shall be your pretty coffin," said she, and
when my cousins come to visit me by and bye, they
shall help me to bury you outside in the garden, so
that you may grow again in summer, and become more
beautiful than ever."
These cousins were two merry boys. Their names
were Gustave and Adolphe their father had given
them two new crossbows, and they had brought these
with them to show to Ida. She told them about the
poor flowers which had died, and then they got leave
to bury them. The two boys went first, with their
crossbows on their shoulders, and little Ida followed
with the dead flowers in the pretty box. Out in the
garden a little grave was dug. Ida first kissed the
flowers, and then laid them in the earth in the box,
and Adolphe and Gustave shot with their crossbows
cver the grave, for they had neither guns nor cannons.
77te Ezq5l'rolr'S lV'ew Cilo/hes.
The Emperor and the two Cheats.
THIE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES.
M ANY years ago there lived an Emper6r, who
cared so enormously for new clothes that he
spent all his money upon them, that he might be very
fine. He did not care about his soldiers, nor about the
theatre, and only liked to drive out and show his new
clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day; and
The Emperor's New Clothes.
just as they say of a king, He is in council," one always
said of him, "The Emperor is in the wardrobe."
In the great city in which he lived it was always
very merry; every day a number of strangers arrived
there. One day two cheats came : they gave them-
selves out as weavers, and declared they could weave
the finest stuff any one could imagine. Not only were
their colours and patterns, they said, uncommonly beau-
tiful, but the clothes made of the stuff possessed the
wonderful quality that they became invisible to any one
who was unfit for the office.he held, or was incorrigibly
Those would be capital clothes !" thought the
Emperor. If I wore those, I should be able to find
out what men in my empire are not fit for the places
they have; I could distinguish the clever from the
stupid. Yes, the stuff must be woven for me directly !"
"And he gave the two cheats a great deal of cash in
hand, that they might begin their work at once.
As for them, they put up two looms, and pretended
to be working; but they had nothing at all on their
looms. They at once demanded the finest silk and
The Emperor's New Clothes.
the costliest gold; this they put into their own pockets,
and worked at the empty looms till late into the night.
I should like to know how far they have got on
with the stuff," thought the Emperor. But he felt quite
uncomfortable when he thought that those who were
not fit for their offices could not see it. He believed,
indeed, that he had nothing to fear for himself, but yet
he preferred first to send some one else to see how
matters stood. All the people in the whole city knew
what peculiar power the stuff possessed, and all were
anxious to see how bad or how stupid their neighbours
I will send my honest old Minister to the weavers,"
thought the Emperor. He can judge best how the
stuff looks, for he has sense, and no one understands
his office better than he."
Now the good old Minister went out into the hall
where the two cheats sat working at the empty looms.
"Mercy preserve us !" thought the old Minister, and
he opened his eyes wide. I cannot see anything at
all!" But he did not say this.
Both the cheats begged him to be kind enough to
The .Emperor's New Clothes.
come nearer, and asked if he did not approve of the
colours and. the pattern. Then they pointed to th,'
empty loom, and the poor old Minister went on opening
his eyes; but he could see nothing, for there was;
nothing to see.
Mercy!" thought he, "can I indeed be so stupid?
I never thought that, and not a soul must know it,
Am I not fit for my office ?-No, it will never do for
me to tell that I could not see the stuff."
"Don't you say anything to it?" asked one of th',
"Oh, it is charming-quite enchanting !" answered
the old Minister, as he peered through his spectacles.
" What a fine pattern, and what colours Yes, I shall
tell the Emperor that I am very much pleased with it."
Well, we are glad of that," said both the weavers ;
and then they named the colours, and explained the
strange pattern. The old Minister listened attentively,
that he might be able to repeat it when the Emperor
came. And he did so.
Now the cheats asked for more money, and more
silk and gold, which they declared they wanted for
Th7 Emperor's New Clothes.
weaving. They put all into their own pockets, and
not a thread was put upon the loom; but they con-
tinued to work at the empty frames as before.
The Emperor soon sent again, dispatching another
honest statesman, to see how the weaving was going
on, and if the stuff would soon be ready. He fared
just like the first: he looked and looked, but, as there
was nothing to be seen but the empty looms, he could
"Is not that a pretty piece of stuff?" asked the two
cheats; and they displayed and explained the hand-
some pattern which was not there at all.
* I am not stupid !" thought the man,-" it must be
my good office, for which I am not fit. It is funny
enough, but I must not let it be noticed." And so he
praised, the stuff which he did not see, and expressed
his pleasure at the beautiful colours and charming pat-
tern. Yes, it is enchanting," he told the Emperor.
All the people in the town were talking of the
gorgeous stuff. The Emperor wished to see it him-
self while it was still upon the loom. With a whole
crowd of chosen men, among whom were also the two
The Emperor's New Clothes.
honest statesmen who had already been there, he went
to the two cunning cheats, who were now weaving
with might and main without fibre or thread.
"Is that not splendid?" said the two old states-
men, who had already been there once. "Does not
your Majesty remark the pattern and the colours?"
And then they pointed to the empty loom, for they
thought that the others could see the stuff.
"What's this ?" thought the Emperor. "I can see
nothing at all! That is terrible. Am I stupid ? Am
I not fit to be Emperor? That would be the most
dreadful thing that could happen to me.-Oh,. it is very
pretty I" he said aloud. It has our exalted appio-
bation." And he nodded in a contented way, and
gazed at the empty loom, for he would not say that he
saw nothing. The whole suite whom he had with him
looked and looked, and saw nothing, any more than
the rest; but, like the Emperor, they said, "That is
pretty !" and counselled him to wear the splendid new
clothes for the first time at the great procession that
was presently to take place. It is splendid, tasteful,
excellent went from mouth to mouth, On all sides
The Eneij-eor's ATc7' Cloth-es,
there seemed to be general rejoicing, and the Emperor
gave the cheats the title of Imperial Court Weavers.
The whole night before the morning on which the
procession was to take place the cheats were up, and
had lighted more than sixteen candles. The people
could see that they were hard at work, completing the
Emperor's new clothes. They pretended to take the
stuff down from the loom; they made cuts in the air
with great scissors; they sewed with needles without
thread; and at last they said, Now the clothes are
The Emperor came himself with his noblest cava-
liers; and the two cheats lifted up one arm as if they
were holding something, and said, "See, here are the
trousers here is the coat here is the cloak !" and so
on. It is as light as a spider's web : one would think
one had nothing on; but that is just the beauty of it."
Yes," said all the cavaliers; but they could not see
anything, for nothing was there.
"Does your Imperial Majesty please to condescend
to undress ? said the cheats; "then we will put you
on the new clothes here in front of the great mirror."
74 The Emperor's New Clothes.
The Emperor took off his clothes, and the cheats
pretended to put on him each new garment as it was
ready; and the Emperor turned round and round be-
fore the mirror.
Oh, how well they look how capitally they fit! "
said all. What a pattern what colours That is a
splendid dress !"
They are standing outside with the canopy which
is to be borne above your Majesty in the procession !"
announced the head master of the ceremonies.
Well, I am ready," replied the Emperor. Does
it not suit me well?" And then he turned again to
the mirror, for he wanted it to appear as if he contem-
plated his adornment with great interest.
The two chamberlains, who were to carry the train,
stooped down with their hands towards the floor, just
as if they were picking up the mantle; then they pre-
tended to be holding something in the air. They did
not dare to let it be noticed that they saw nothing.
So the Emperor went in procession under the rich
canopy, and every one in the streets said, How in-
comparable are the Emperor's new clothes! what a
The Eynperor's N~ew Clothes.
train he has to his mantle how it fits him !" No one
would let it be perceived that he could see nothing, for
that would have shown that he was not fit for his office,
or was very stupid. No clothes of the Emperor's had
ever had such a success as these.
"But he has nothing on !" a little child cried out at
Just hear what that innocent says !" said the father:
and one whispered to another what the child had said.
But he has nothing on !" said the whole-people at
length. That touched the Emperor, for it seemed to
him that they were right; but he thought within him-
self, I must go through with the procession." And
the chamberlains held on tighter than ever, and carried
the train which did not exist at all.
The ;nail amli M/e. Pose Ti-ec.
7he Roses' destiny.
THE SNAIL AND THE ROSE TREE.
A ROUND the garden ran a hedge of hazels ; be-
yond this hedge lay fields and meadows, wherein
were cows and sheep; but in the midst of the garden
stood a blooming Rose Tree; and under this Rose
Tree lived a Snail, who had a good deal in his shell
"Wait till my time comes !" he said : I shall do
The Snail and t/ie Rose Tree.
something more than produce roses, bear nuts, or give
milk, like the Rose Tree, the hazel bush, and the
"I expect a great deal of you," said the Rose Tree.
"But may I ask when it will appear ? "
I take my time," replied the Snail.- You 're al-
ways in such a hurry. You don't rouse people's interest
When the next year came, the Snail lay almost in
the same spot, in the sunshine under the Rose Tree,
which again bore buds that bloomed into roses, until
the snow fell and the weather became raw and cold ;
then the Rose Tree bowed its head and the Snail
crept into the ground.
A new year began; and, the roses came out, and
the Snail came out also.
"You 're an old Rose Tree now! said the Snail.
"You must make haste and come to an end, for you
have given the world all that was in you: whether it
was of any use is a question that I have had no time
to consider; but so much is clear and plain, that you
have done nothing at all for your own development,
The Snail and the Rose Tree.
or you would have produced something else. How
can you answer for that ? In a little time you will be
nothing at all but a stick. Do you understand what
You alarm me !" replied the Rose Tree. "I
never thought of that at all."
"No, you have not taken the trouble to consider
anything. Have you ever given an account to .your-
self, why you bloomed, and how it is that your bloom-
ing comes about-why it is thus, and not otherwise ? "
"No," answered the Rose Tree. "I bloomed in
gladness, because I could not do anything else. The
sun shone and warmed me, and the air refreshed me.
I drank the pure dew and the fresh rain, and I lived,
I breathed. Out of the earth there arose a power
within me, from above there came down a strength : I
perceived a new ever-increasing happiness, and conse-
quently I was obliged to bloom over and over again:
that was my life ; I could not do otherwise."
"You have led a pleasant life," observed the Snail.
Certainly. Everything I have was given to me,"
said the Rose Tree. "But more still was given to
The Snail and the Rose Tree.
you. You are one of those deep thoughtful characters,
one of those highly gifted spirits, which will cause the
world to marvel."
I've no intention of doing anything of the kind,"
cried the Snail. "The world is nothing to me. What
have I to do with the world? I have enough of my-
self and in myself."
But must we not all, here on earth, give to others
the best we have, and offer what lies in our power?
Certainly I have only given roses. But you-you who
have been so richly gifted-what have you given to the
world ? what do you intend to give ?"
"What have I given-what do I intend to give ? I
spit at it. It's worth nothing. It's no business of
mine. Continue to give your roses, if you like : you
can't do any better. Let the hazel bush bear nuts,
and the cows and the ewes give milk : they have their
public; but I have mine within myself-I retire within
myself, and there I remain. The world is nothing to
me." And so saying the Snail retired into his house,
and closed up the entrance after him.
That is very sad said the Rose Tree. I can-
The Snail and the Rose Tree,
not creep into myself, even if I wished it-I must
continue to produce roses. They drop their leaves,
and are blown away by the wind. But I saw how a
rose was laid in the matron's hymn-book, and one of
my roses had a place on the bosom, of a fair young
girl, and another was kissed by the lips of a child in
the full joy of life. That did me good; it was a real
blessing. That's my remembrance-my life !"
And the Rose Tree went on blooming in innocence,
while the Snail lay and idled away his time in his
house-the world did not concern him.
And years rolled by.
The Snail had become dust in the dust, and the
Rose Tree was earth in the earth ; the rose of remem-
brance in the hymn-book was faded, but in the garden
bloomed fresh rose trees, and under the trees lay new
snails; and these still crept into their houses, and spat
at the world, for it did not concern them.
Suppose we begin the story again, and read it right
through. It will never alter,