# The Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

The Fairy Tales of
Hans Christian Andersen
WITH UPWARDS OF FOUR HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS BY HELEN STRATTON
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY EDWARD E. HALE, D.D.
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
Copyright, 1899, by Truslove, Hanson and Comea.
INTRODUCTION
Hans Christian Andersen, without knowing it, prescribed a healthy tonic for more than one writer in England and America. It would be a pity not to acknowledge this.
He was not well known in either country when Mary Howitt published her translations of his stories in England. Perhaps her intimacy with Frederica Bremer, the Swedish novelist, opened the way to her acquaintance with the Danish story-teller.
The children of England and America had the first benefit of this invasion of the Dane. For, by a rather provoking law, it will happen that the literature of childhood is sadly apt to fall into the ruts of sentimentalists or of mechanics. “Anybody can write a child’s book” is the false theory of publishers in the decline which comes upon children’s books once in a generation. As an experienced editor once said to me, ninety-nine hundredths of the articles sent to him about boys and girls are written by ladies who never had the charge of either boy or girl.
Into the midst of books thus written down for children there comes, once in a generation, such a revelation as the publication of Grimm’s Fairy Tales made early in this century, as the appearance in England of Andersen’s children’s stories, made. And again, such as children enjoyed when Stevenson’s poems for them appeared. Probably Stevenson’s poems would not have been written but for such prose poems as
I do not venture to describe the indescribable, and so I will not try to analyze the charm of Andersen’s children’s stories. They can speak for themselves. They do speak for themselves in the memories of all those young people who, if I may say so, were brought up on them. There is sentiment in them, because there is sentiment in all life; but it is not a morbid or manufactured sentiment. It is the sentiment which belongs to the occasion. Here is what I have meant when I say that he administered a healthful tonic to all those writers for children who had sense enough to wish to improve on their own methods. For the mere mechanics, the people who build stories up as a child makes a mud pie,—so much water and so much clay, without going farther than the water and the clay,—no tonic is possible.
People generally speak as if “The Improvisatore” were the autobiography of Andersen, and as if whoever has read that understands his life. This does not seem to me quite broad enough. His own memoir of himself, which has been translated by Mrs. Howitt, gives a very curious picture of life in Den​mark. It shows us what that gallant little kingdom is, has been, and may be. And in the midst of a charming egotism,—perhaps because of this charming egotism—it reveals Andersen to us in a way which makes us love him more and not less.
It is immensely to the credit of the artists of Copenhagen, of the people of rank there, of what Mrs. Grundy calls “Society,” that this boy, only not a beggar boy, landing in the streets there with nothing but hope and one rixthaler, should have pressed his way forward and upward till he became the Dane spoken of most often in the literary circles of the world. It makes one believe in small kingdoms, small commonwealths—may I say, in Brick Moons?—when one sees the cordiality, the best form of charity, the distinguished care, with which Copenhagen could take care of such a Danish boy when he needed care. His first attempts at fame are made when he goes upon the stage of the theatre as one of the “populace,” dressed in the dress which was made out of his father’s coat for his own confirmation. He thinks to be a singer, and is not fit to be a singer. He thinks to be a poet, and they do not accept him as a poet; this is their fault, not his. But he then does what he can do: he writes, and writes the truth. He tells what he has seen, with that admirable unwillingness to try to tell what he has not seen. Realism, the realism of the nineteenth century, about which much is absurdly said and sung, appears, whether in the story of the tin soldier or in romance so called, made out of the life of a fiddler.
And here, as it seems to me, is the tonic which this Danish peasant administered to the literature of England and America. I do not know whether he did as much good in Denmark as he did here; I do not know whether they needed it as much as I think it was needed by the writers for children here; I do know that this quiet use of language, in which there is a nominative case for the thing that is described, and a good steadfast verb which describes that thing; in which there is no rushing north, south, east, or west for an effect which is visible and at hand,—I do know that this use of language is an excellent example for young authors or for old.
It is fifty-four years since Mary Howitt introduced this shepherd of the people to people who could not read Danish but could read English. This English nation for whom she wrote, and the American nation which is born from that English nation, would not be what they are if, some thousand years ago, rather more than less, certain Danes, so called, had not occasionally found their way into English seaports, and when they chose colonized the lands of the inhabitants. It is not simply that a quaint word or two slipped from their dialect into ours. There is more than that. The blood of Norsemen is in our veins. Perhaps it is true that the habit of calling a spade a spade was particularly a Danish habit. Perhaps the Danes had the gift of using words of one syllable where the Latin nations preferred to use words of four syllables; they liked to say Thor, and did not like to say Diispeter. And perhaps,—these are only my guesses, but I am in the habit of thinking that we like to hear Jenny Lind sing, that we like to read the poems of Tegner and the voyages of Nansen, that we like to find the Linnea borealis on the slopes of the White Mountains, because we are all Scandinavians in blood. Perhaps this is the reason why we and our children like to read Hans Christian Andersen.
It may please the reader to have a little remembrance of Andersen, which I copy from a private note of one of his friends: “I once had the good fortune to pass four months under the same roof with Hans Christian Andersen. I often heard him read his fairy tales, and one beautiful moonlight night he wrote down these lines to me. The following is a literal translation of the autograph:
He then gathered this bouquet in the garden where we were, and gave it to me as a remembrance of him, but I shall not forget him even without it.” The faded rose is in the letter from which I copy the lines.
EDWARD E. HALE
Contents
| | PAGE |
| THE RED SHOES | 1 |
| THE CHIMNEY SWEEP | 6 |
| THE NIGHTINGALE | 11 |
| THE GARDEN OF PARADISE | 18 |
| THE LITTLE SWINEHERD | 29 |
| A WEEK WITH OLÉ LUK-OIE | 33 |
| THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES | 42 |
| THE ICE-MAIDEN, OR THE EAGLE'S NEST | 47 |
| THE STORKS | 78 |
| THE UGLY DUCKLING | 82 |
| THE WILD SWANS | 89 |
| THE MARSH KING'S DAUGHTER | 100 |
| THE LITTLE MERMAID | 125 |
| THE GIRL WHO TROD ON THE LOAF | 141 |
| THE CONSTANT TIN SOLDIER | 147 |
| THE SNOW QUEEN | 151 |
| THE FELLOW-TRAVELLER | 172 |
| THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL | 186 |
| THE REAL PRINCESS | 188 |
| UNDER THE WILLOW | 191 |
| LITTLE CLAUS AND BIG CLAUS | 202 |
| THE SHADOW | 210 |
| THE STORY OF A MOTHER | 220 |
| THE FLYING TRUNK | 225 |
| THE TINDER-BOX | 230 |
| THE GOLOSHES OF HAPPINESS | 236 |
| HOLGER DANSKE | 257 |
| THE FIR-TREE | 261 |
| LITTLE TUK | 268 |
| WHAT THE MOON SAW | 271 |
| THE BRONZE PIG | 293 |
| IB AND LITTLE CHRISTINE | 300 |
| THE CRIPPLE | 308 |
| THE OLD BACHELOR'S NIGHTCAP | 314 |
List of Illustrations
The Red Shoes :
| page ||
| The Princess stood at a window | 1 |
| She thought only of her shoes | 2 |
| She could not stop herself | 2 |
| It was the old soldier | 3 |
| She tapped at the window | 4 |
| She went across the heath | 5 |
| All the children made much of her | 5 |
| Her soul was carried up to God | 6 |
The Chimney Sweep :
| page ||
| I entreat you to go with me into the wide world | 7 |
| They saw the old cupboard was all in an uproar | 8 |
| She fell on her china knee | 9 |
| He led her to the door of the stove | 9 |
| The roof of the town lay below | 10 |
| His head had rolled into a corner | 10 |
The Nightingale :
| page ||
| Sat on his golden throne reading the book | 11 |
| Ran up and down, and looked through all the rooms | 12 |
| The nightingale sang exquisitely | 13 |
| She went willingly on hearing the emperor wished it | 14 |
| Each had fastened a ribbon round her leg | 14 |
| All cried out “Oh!“ | 15 |
| The boys in the street would go about singing | 15 |
| Jumped out of bed, and called for his physician | 16 |
| She sang, and the Emperor fell into a sweet sleep | 17 |
The Garden of Paradise :
| page ||
| At every step he slipped on the wet grass | 19 |
| “I sat and slept at the helm“ | 20 |
| He kissed his mother so roughly that she nearly fell backwards | 21 |
| “An ostrich ran a race with me” | 21 |
| He sat on the back of the east wind | 22 |
| They now entered the cavern | 23 ​ |
| She led the Princess into her palace | 24 |
| Storks and pelicans flew in long rows | 26 |
| The Fairy cried, “Come with me! come with me!” | 27 |
| He pushed the boughs aside | 28 |
The Little Swineherd; or, The Prince in Disguise :
| “Good morning,” said he | 29 |
| The Prince became swineherd | 30 |
| The swineherd got ten kisses | 30 |
| “What’s the meaning of this?” cried he | 31 |
| “What a miserable creature I am,” sobbed the Princess | 32 |
A Week with Olé Luk-Oie :
| On the balcony stood princesses | 35 |
| “We shall cook you to-morrow,” said Hjalmar | 37 |
| Away they went to the mouse’s wedding | 37 |
| The mice were near treading each other to death | 38 |
| The bridal pair were sitting on the floor | 39 |
| Olé Luk-Oie lifted little Hjalmar up to the window | 41 |
| “Look how he gallops along!” | 42 |
The Emperor’s New Clothes :
| Staring as hard as he could | 43 |
| “It has our most gracious approval” | 43 |
| People could see them at work | 44 |
| The Emperor went forth in grand procession | 45 |
| “But he has got nothing on!” | 46 |
The Ice-Maiden; or, The Eagle’s Nest :
| “Come with me on the roof,” said the cat | 47 |
| Rudy loved the morning air | 48 |
| They still had to cross one great glacier | 49 |
| The Queen of the Glaciers | 49 |
| The cold kisses which the Queen of the Glaciers had given him | 50 |
| They bleated “Med! med! may!” | 51 |
| Began to tell tales and legends of the spirits of the Alps | 52 |
| The mysterious shepherd and his black sheep | 53 |
| His uncle would tell tales of his childhood | 54 |
| Rudy clung to the stem of a tree | 54 |
| “Write a letter for me to the Lord Christ!” | 55 |
| “He gave me a kiss at the dance” | 56 |
| The parlour cat stood on the steps | 57 |
| Offered him an Alpine rose | 58 |
| Singing and playing on all kinds of instruments | 59 |
| “Have you a sweetheart?” said Rudy | 60 |
| The snow came down and the wind shrieked | 61 |
| Rudy submitted to be kissed | 62 |
| They trod on me more than once | 63 ​ |
| They opened the door, and both went in | 63 |
| They set off with poles, banners, and ropes | 64 |
| In the black, gaping depth sat the Ice Maiden | 65 |
| It was captured alive | 65 |
| Rudy and Babette | 67 |
| “They play at masters down below,” said the Ice Maiden | 68 |
| Peeped through the curtain | 70 |
| Held the bowl to his lips | 71 |
| The Ice Maiden gave him a kiss | 71 |
| Therefore Babette lectured him | 71 |
| Only his hunting jacket and hat | 73 |
| Hand in hand, seated on the little bench | 75 |
| The ring expanded into a sparkling circle | 75 |
| The Ice Maiden stood majestic, with Rudy at her feet | 76 |
The Storks :
| “Stork, stork, fly home and rest” | 78 |
| “We then go into the mire and eat frogs” | 79 |
| The four youngsters were all obliged to come out on the top of the roof | 80 |
| A little fellow, scarcely more than six years old | 80 |
| There were evolutions for you! | 81 |
| “Now, we’ll fly to the pond and fetch one for every child” | 82 |
| “In the pond lies a little infant, who has dreamed itself to death” | 82 |
The Ugly Duckling :
| “Now bend your neck, and say ‘Quack!’” | 84 |
| The girl who fed the poultry kicked him | 85 |
| “What’s that?” said the woman, looking round | 85 |
| The duckling sat in a corner, very much out of spirits | 86 |
| He turned round and round in the water like a wheel | 87 |
| The children would have played with him | 87 |
| Some of the children threw bread-crumbs and corn into the water | 88 |
The Wild Swans :
| A book full of prints | 90 |
| Helped her to undress and get into the bath | 90 |
| Stole out of the palace in great affliction | 91 |
| An old woman with a basket full of cherries | 91 |
| Elise followed the rivulet | 92 |
| Just at sunset Elise saw eleven swans flying towards the shore | 92 |
| She stroked his wings | 93 |
| The swans carried Elise away from the rock | 94 |
| Held him before him on his horse | 95 |
| Allowed the women to dress her in regal robes | 96 |
| Until she reached the churchyard | 97 |
| The rustling of a swan’s wings sounded near the grating | 98 |
| To see the witch burnt | 99 |
| The King plucked it, and placed it in Elise’s bosom | 99 |
The Marsh King’s Daughter :
| Was found by the King’s daughter | 100 |
| “Don’t get excited” | 101 |
| Tore her feather dress into a hundred pieces | 101 |
| It was he who pulled her down | 102 |
| The stork at first believed it to be the Princess turned a child again | 103 |
| Screamed passionately, and stretched out its arms and legs | 103 |
| There, just at the foot of the bed, was a great ugly toad | 104 |
| The Viking’s wife sat on the cross bench in the open banqueting hall | 105 |
| The serfs slept for the night in the warm ashes | 106 |
| All his limbs rigid and stretched out like a mummy | 107 |
| We bound fire under the wings of a swallow | 108 |
| He stood on one leg | 109 |
| She was to hold her ear to the lips of the dead | 109 |
| Came dripping with water into the lofty hall | 110 |
| Then the Viking’s wife could take her on her knees | 111 |
| “But he is still the handsomest of them all,” said the mother stork | 112 |
| Drove the knife into his side | 112 |
| Vent away wrathful and sad | 113 |
| “Who art thou?” | 114 |
| The horse galloped on | 114 |
| Rode through the forest | 115 |
| The sun went down at that moment | 116 |
| Sat there all through the long day | 117 |
| Looked with astonishment at her fine white hands | 117 |
| The Christian priest raised his cross on high | 118 |
| Lay a sleeping woman | 118 |
| Trembled and nestled up closer to her foster-mother | 119 |
| Stretched out her arms towards them | 120 |
| There stood two beautiful women, as like as two drops of dew | 121 |
| She saw two powerful ostriches running round in narrow circles | 122 |
| Placed the golden circlet about his neck | 123 |
| Asked him to fly to the beech forest | 123 |
| She looked towards the twinkling, sparkling stars | 124 |
| Fell on her knees | 125 |
The Little Mermaid :
| Ate out of their hands and allowed themselves to be stroked | 126 |
| The youngest planted hers in a circle to imitate the sun | 126 |
| A statue, representing a handsome youth, hewn out of pure white marble | 127 |
| They flew away in great alarm | 128 |
| All the vessels scudded past in great alarm | 128 |
| As often as the water lifted her up she peeped in through the transparent panes | 129 |
| She held his head above the water, and then let the waves carry them whither they pleased | 130 |
| It was not long before a young maiden approached the spot where he was lying | 131 |
| “You must not think about that,” said the old dame | 132 |
| Crossing her hands over her bosom she darted along | 133 |
| Within sat the sea witch, feeding a toad from her mouth | 134 |
| When the sun rose over the sea she awoke and felt a sharp pang | 135 |
| Everybody was enchanted, but most of all the Prince, who called her his little foundling | 136 ​ |
| She would go and sit on the broad marble steps, for it cooled her burning feet to bathe them in the water | 137 |
| He kissed her rosy mouth and played with her long hair | 137 |
| Gazed through the clear waters, and fancied she saw her father’s palace | 138 |
| She was fain to laugh and dance, though the thoughts of death were in her heart | 138 |
| She then saw her sisters rising out of the flood | 139 |
| Then jumped overboard, and felt her body dissolving into foam | 140 |
The Girl who Trod on the Loaf :
| Inger turned away, for she was ashamed to have for her mother a ragged woman who gathered sticks | 142 |
| Flung the loaf into the mud that she might step on it and come over dry-shod | 143 |
| But the worst of all was the horrible hunger which she felt | 143 |
| They told her story to the children, and the little ones called her “the wicked Inger” | 144 |
| “I do so wish she would!” said the little girl, and she was quite inconsolable | 145 |
| A peasant set up a pole close to the wall, and tied a sheaf of oats to the top | 145 |
| “There is a sea-swallow flying away over the sea,” said the children | 146 |
The Constant Tin Soldier :
| Though they had nearly trodden upon him they could not manage to find him | 148 |
| The boat flew past, and the rat followed | 149 |
| Everybody was desirous of seeing the celebrated man who travelled about inside a fish | 149 |
| When the maid raked out the ashes she found him in the shape of a tin heart | 151 |
The Snow Queen :
| He climbed up to the window | 151 |
| And she placed him beside her in the sledge, and wrapped the skin round him | 154 |
| A little house with strange red and blue windows | 155 |
| While she was eating, the old woman combed her hair with a golden comb | 156 |
| Gerda knew every flower | 156 |
| “I don’t understand anything about it,” said little Gerda | 157 |
| Little Gerda ran forth with bare feet into the wide world | 158 |
| “No—have you, though?” cried the little girl, and had nearly hugged the crow to death, so fondly did she kiss him | 159 |
| She began to sing a song which ran thus; “Wherefore shouldn’t I marry?” | 160 |
| And when they approached the throne where sat the Princess, they found nothing to say | 161 |
| On the third day there came marching cheerfully along towards the palace a little body, who had neither horse nor coach | 162 |
| And he was pleased with her, and she with him | 163 |
| Gazed at Gerda, who curtsied | 163 |
| Horses with flying manes appeared like shadows on the wall | 164 |
| The coach was amply stored inside with sweet cakes, and under the seat were fruit and gingerbread nuts | 164 |
| “Oh, la!” screamed the woman | 165 |
| By that time they had reached Lapland | 166 |
| The Finlandish woman’s intelligent eyes twinkled, though she said nothing | 167 |
| Little Gerda then repeated the Lord’s Prayer | 168 |
| But he sat quite motionless, stiff and cold | 169 |
| There emerged from it a beautiful horse | 169 |
The Fellow Traveller :
| The first night he was obliged to lie on a haycock in the open fields | 173 |
| Before the church door stood an aged beggar, leaning on a crutch | 173 |
| “Of course,” said the ugly men, “if you pay his debt, we will neither of us lay a finger upon him” | 174 |
| Took out a box, saying that he had an ointment which would immediately make her leg whole again | 175 |
| Seized the Queen by the middle of her slender waist, so that it cracked again | 176 |
| The Queen knelt down | 176 |
| He cut off the two wings of the dead swan, at a single blow, and kept them | 177 |
| He, and all his soldiers used to kneel and pray that the Princess might grow good | 177 |
| They now heard the mob cheering outside the inn. The Princess was passing by | 178 |
| A frightful sight to behold! From every tree hung three or four kings’ sons | 179 |
| The Princess, wrapped in a flowing white robe, flew over the city | 180 |
| The judges sat in their arm-chairs with their heads propped up, because they had so much to think about | 181 |
| Thrashed her more violently than before, having taken two rods with him | 182 |
| But the Princess lay on the sofa, and would not speak a word | 182 |
| “So much the better,” said the old King; “that’s just what I wish” | 183 |
| The Princess shrieked aloud when he dipped her into the water | 184 |
| The old King dandled his grandchildren on his knees, and let them play with his sceptre | 185 |
The Little Match Girl :
| She now sat down, cowering in a corner. She had drawn her little feet under her, but felt colder than ever | 186 |
| And—what was more delightful still—the goose jumped down and waddled along the ground with a knife and fork in its breast | 187 |
The Real Princess :
| There came a knock at the town gate, and the old king went and opened it | 189 |
| But she said nothing, and went into a spare room and laid a pea on the sacking of the bedstead | 190 |
| “I scarcely closed my eyes all night! I do not know what was in the bed” | 190 |
Under the Willow :
| It was impossible to get him to go and paddle | 191 |
| One evening he told a story, which greatly impressed them | 192 |
| And told to a party of children the story of their mute affection, which led to nothing | 193 |
| He should certainly not be mute, like those two gingerbreads | 194 |
| She poured out the tea, and she herself offered him a cup | 195 |
| Canute went out into the town and looked up at her window | 195 |
| Joan turned as pale as death; she let go his hand | 196 |
| As she had a whole handful of roses, she gave him one also | 197 |
| Right opposite there was a great, old willow-tree | 198 |
| The girls nodded to him from the wooden balconies of the houses, as they made their lace | 199 |
| Canute looked right into her face and she looked right into Canute’s face; but she did not recognise him | 199 |
| And here stood Joan in all her magnificence, with the golden crown on | 200 |
| She bent her head over his face, and ice-cold tears trickled from her eyes | 201 |
Little Claus and Big Claus :
| She was pouring him out wine, while he was busy with his fork in the fish | 203 ​ |
| “Zounds!” said the farmer, hastily opening the oven | 204 |
| The farmer opened the lid a little, and peeped in | 205 |
| “What can he want it for?” thought Big Claus, as he smeared the bottom of it with tar | 206 |
| Fell to belabouring Big Claus’s shoulders | 207 |
| Seized his axe, and killed his old grandmother at a blow | 208 |
| “The moment I fell upon it the loveliest girl imaginable took me by the hand” | 209 |
| “There’s no fear about that,” said Little Claus; still he put a large stone into the bag | 209 |
The Shadow :
| In the midst of the flowers stood a slender, lovely maiden | 211 |
| A light was burning in the room, just behind him | 211 |
| He perceived, to his great joy, that a new shadow had sprouted out of his legs | 212 |
| “Come in,” said he; but no one came. So he opened the door | 213 |
| “Yes, I will tell you,” said the shadow, sitting down | 214 |
| I drew myself up to my full height along the walls, which tickled my vanity very agreeably | 215 |
| The shadow always managed to take the precedence | 216 |
| She immediately perceived that the newly-arrived stranger was quite a different sort of person to everybody else | 217 |
| Being a king’s daughter, she was not obliged to stand upon ceremony | 217 |
| On all of which topics the learned man answered with sense and judgment | 218 |
| “I will go straight to the king’s daughter,” said the learned man | 219 |
| “It is a hard case, for he was a faithful servant,” said the shadow, pretending to sigh | 220 |
The Story of a Mother :
| The mother then wrung her hands, wept, and sang | 221 |
| And she wept and wept till her eyes dissolved into the lake and became two costly pearls | 222 |
| And Death stretched out his hand towards the little delicate flower | 223 |
The Flying Trunk :
| “I say, you Turkish nurse,” cried he, “what is that large castle near the town, where the windows are placed so high?” | 226 |
| She lay asleep on the sofa, and looked so beautiful that the merchant’s son could not help kissing her | 227 |
| The king and queen and the whole court were at tea with the princess, and he was received very politely | 228 |
| The boys in the streets stood on tip-toe, cried hurrah! and whistled through their fingers | 229 |
| She stood on the roof, and waited the whole day long | 229 |
The Tinder Box :
| And he set the dog on the witch’s apron | 231 |
| “Do you know what?” said the soldier. “You must either tell me at once what you mean to do with it, or I’ll draw my sword and cut your head off” | 232 |
| She lay asleep on the dog’s back, and was so lovely that everybody might see she was a real princess | 233 |
| “But there’s one and there’s another,” said all present, for, whichever way they looked, there were crosses on all the doors | 234 |
| “I say, you shoemaker’s ’prentice, you needn’t be in such a hurry,” said the soldier | 235 |
The Goloshes of Happiness :
| These goloshes have the property instantly to transport whomsoever shall put them on, to the place and time he best likes | 236 ​ |
| The more he talked to the boatmen the more incomprehensible they appeared to him | 238 |
| “Excuse me,” said the councillor of justice to the landlady | 239 |
| “How are you now?” said the landlady, pulling the councillor’s sleeve | 240 |
| Just as he was going out, the company perceived his intention, and seized him by the feet | 241 |
| The lieutenant felt this to be the case, and therefore leant his head against the window frame and sighed deeply | 243 |
| He found himself on one of the countless circular ranges of mountains that we see in Dr. Madler’s large map of the moon | 244 |
| The young fellow then filliped his nose, which made him lose his balance | 245 |
| The first heart he entered was a lady’s, but at first he fancied he had got into an orthopædic institution | 246 |
| Her husband’s portrait served as a weathercock | 247 |
| The attendant uttered a loud exclamation at the sight of a man in all his clothes | 248 |
| Close by stood a boy, striking with a stick in a swampy ditch | 250 |
| At the same moment the skirts and sleeves of his coat became wings, his clothes turned to feathers, and his goloshes to claws | 251 |
| They purchased the bird for eightpence, and so the clerk returned to Copenhagen | 251 |
| Lovely half-naked children were tending a herd of coal-black swine, under a knot of fragrant laurels | 254 |
| The shrivelled arms and the monotonous whines of “Miserabili eccelenza!” came in much faster than the breezes | 255 |
| She drew the goloshes off his feet, when the sleep of death ended, and he once more revived | 256 |
Holger Danske :
| As the old man sat talking, he was carving a large wooden figure representing Holger Danske | 258 |
| The first flame led him into a dark and narrow prison, where sat captive a beautiful woman | 259 |
| “But what you have carved is very fine, grandfather,” said she | 260 |
The Fir Tree :
| They would often bring a pipkin full of berries and seat themselves near the little fir tree | 261 |
| “We know, we know,” twittered the sparrows, “for we have looked in at the windows in yonder town!” | 262 |
| At length the tapers were lit, and a grand sight it was, to be sure | 263 |
| Told the story of Humpty-Dumpty, who fell downstairs | 264 |
| The little mice were fit to jump to the top of the tree with delight | 265 |
| “Your servant,” answered the rats, and they returned back to their own sets | 265 |
| The youngest ran and tore off the gold star. “See what is sticking to the ugly old fir tree,” said the child | 266 |
| So the children left off playing, and came and sat near the fire | 267 |
Little Tuk :
| And Tuk ran off and helped her | 269 |
| Large streams of water sprang from the cliff, and close by sat an aged king with a golden crown on his white hair | 270 |
What the Moon Saw :
| Up and down danced the flame, but yet kept alight, and the dark eyes dwelt longingly upon it as it went | 272 |
| The hen was terrified, and made a great to do, spreading her wings to protect her chicks | 272 |
| She dropt her head, and her eyes brimmed with tears | 273 |
| Motionless she sat, as I looked at her, her hands in her lap | 273 |
| She knelt down and kissed the purple | 274 ​ |
| Then came a poor girl, who dropped her load and sat down to rest on the grave of the Hun | 275 |
| A shroud of skins was already being sewed upon him by his wife | 276 |
| The driver glanced round nervously | 277 |
| The singer stood upon the time-worn stage and sang | 278 |
| Away in a corner sat a girl reading a book | 278 |
| A little boy came out and stood by his sister. “What are you watching?” said he | 279 |
| An angel brings them under his cloak | 280 |
| “Come in both of you,” she said, “and see the little brother the stork brought”. | 280 |
| The wives bore the babies on their backs, while the older ones trotted unsteadily at their sides | 281 |
| As a child among children Nature marked him out for Punch’s part | 281 |
| Columbine, indeed, was beautiful and kind to him | 282 |
| His chin on his hands, his eyes turned to me, he looked like a grotesque sculpture | 283 |
| There stood the little thing stiff and starched | 284 |
| He looked at his white cheeks in the glass | 284 |
| There she stood barefoot, weeping, daring not to lift the latch to her palace home | 285 |
| The leader drew a figure in the sand with his staff | 285 |
| In the bell-tower stood two of the sisters, still young, and looked out over tiie world beyond | 286 |
| The child wept, for she could neither reach her doll, nor could the doll be helped down | 286 |
| The bushes seemed to her fancy crowded with elves in steeple hats | 287 |
| I laughed at the duck with her leg tied up, she did limp so funnily | 287 |
| Just then his mother woke up. She moved the curtain aside | 288 |
| Their master stood bareheaded, and reverently kissed her hand—his mother’s hand | 288 |
| “Swe-e-ep,” cried a voice—the little chimney-sweeper’s, who had just climbed the chimney and stuck his head out | 289 |
| Stirred slowly, deep in thought | 289 |
| The white faced child dreamed too, her lashes wet with unshed tears | 290 |
| They crept into corners of the room, but he found each one, and snuffed at them, and did no harm | 291 |
| The bear lay down, and the baby climbed on him, and hid his head in the shaggy fur | 291 |
| So they began marching—Right, left; Right, left! | 292 |
| Piling up the clothes round a chair, making out that he was playing statues | 292 |
| “Don’t be angry, mother dear,” I only said, “and a lot of butter, please” | 293 |
The Bronze Pig :
| He sat himself on the Bronze Pig’s back, and ere he was aware of it sank into slumber | 294 |
| The bronze horse that bears the Duke’s statue neighed out loud | 295 |
| “What do you bring back?” she asked the boy | 296 |
| “Innocent souls know each other” said the woman, and petted dog and child | 297 |
| Beheld Bellissima barking, as if to say, “Hallo! I’m here too” | 298 |
| The creature shivered with cold, and he took to his heels at full speed | 299 |
| The woman bemoaned her dog, and the boy wept | 299 |
| “You bad, bad boy! The poor little creature!” was all she could utter | 300 |
Ib and Little Christine :
| There they found some snipe’s eggs—a great event in their lives | 301 |
| As both wanted it at once, the result was that they let it fall into the water | 302 |
| At last they were quite lost in the bushes | 302 |
| On her back she had a bundle, and in her hand a knotted stick. She was a gipsy | 303 |
| “You must have that,” said Christine, “and it’s so pretty, too” | 304 |
| He set it in the hinge of the door and broke the shell, but there was little inside | 304 ​ |
| “Did you know me then, lb?” she said | 305 |
| So he set himself to write, but the words would not come | 305 |
| Where the plough had cut it, it glittered before him | 306 |
| Life and joy reigned there, for there was little Christine | 307 |
The Cripple :
| But Hans was pleased with it | 308 |
| “Good-night,” said the king; “now you can go home and curse your folly” | 309 |
| The swineherd sat in the ditch, and laughed and sang. “I am that most fortunate man” | 311 |
| Even people quite out on the high-road could hear it singing | 312 |
| He held the cage in his hands, and ran with it out of the door into the road | 313 |
The Old Bachelor’s Nightcap :
| Seated on the bed he chanted an evening psalm | 315 |
| One pip the little girl proposed they should plant in the earth | 315 |
| “Lady Holle! Lady Holle!” she cried, loud and clear | 316 |
| “I dare kiss him,” she would cry, and throw her arms round his neck | 317 |
| He longed to say, “Lady Holle, Lady Holle, open the door to me!” | 318 |
| Wine, bread, and all the basket held, miraculously changed to roses | 319 |
| Prone he lay, clasping in death his old nightcap | 320 |
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