The
little ones twirled round like tops, and the large ones rolled away as
far as they could, especially the one great silver crown piece, who had
often wanted to go out into the world. And he had his wish as well as
all the rest of the money. The pieces of the money-pig were thrown into
the dustbin, and the next day there stood a new money-pig on the
cupboard, but it had not a farthing inside it yet, and therefore, like
the old one, could not rattle. This was the beginning with him, and with us it shall be the end of our
story. [Illustration]




ELDER-TREE MOTHER


THERE was once a little boy who had taken cold by going out and getting
his feet wet. No one could think how he had managed to do so, for the
weather was quite dry. His mother undressed him and put him to bed, and
then she brought in the teapot to make him a good cup of elder tea,
which is so warming. At the same time the friendly old man who lived all alone at the top of
the house came in at the door. He had neither wife nor child, but he was
very fond of children and knew so many fairy tales and stories that it
was a pleasure to hear him talk. "Now, if you drink your tea," said the
mother, "very likely you will have a story in the meantime." [Illustration: "But how did the little fellow get his feet wet?" asked
he....]

"Yes, if I could think of a new one to tell," said the old man. "But how
did the little fellow get his feet wet?" asked he. "Ah," said the mother, "that is what we cannot make out." "Will you tell me a story?" asked the boy. "Yes, if you can tell me exactly how deep the gutter is in the little
street through which you go to school." "Just halfway up to my knee," said the boy, promptly; "that is, if I
stand in the deepest part." "It is easy to see how we got our feet wet," said the old man. "Well,
now I suppose I ought to tell a story, but really I don't know any
more." "You can make up one, I know," said the boy. "Mother says that you can
turn everything you look at into a story, and everything, even, that you
touch." "Ah, but those tales and stories are worth nothing. The real ones come
of themselves; they knock at my forehead and say, 'Here we are!'" "Won't there be a knock soon?" asked the boy. And his mother laughed as
she put elder flowers in the teapot and poured boiling water over them. "Oh, do tell me a story." "Yes, if a story comes of itself, but tales and stories are very grand;
they only come when it pleases them. Stop," he cried all at once, "here
we have it; look! there is a story in the teapot now." The little boy looked at the teapot and saw the lid raise itself
gradually and long branches stretch out, even from the spout, in all
directions till they became larger and larger, and there appeared a
great elder tree covered with flowers white and fresh. It spread itself
even to the bed and pushed the curtains aside, and oh, how fragrant the
blossoms were! In the midst of the tree sat a pleasant-looking old woman in a very
strange dress. The dress was green, like the leaves of the elder tree,
and was decorated with large white elder blossoms. It was not easy to
tell whether the border was made of some kind of stuff or of real
flowers. "What is that woman's name?" asked the boy. "The Romans and Greeks called her a dryad," said the old man, "but we do
not understand that name; we have a better one for her in the quarter
of the town where the sailors live. They call her Elder-flower Mother,
and you must pay attention to her now, and listen while you look at the
beautiful tree. "Just such a large, blooming tree as this stands outside in the corner
of a poor little yard, and under this tree, one bright sunny afternoon,
sat two old people, a sailor and his wife. They had great-grandchildren,
and would soon celebrate the golden wedding, which is the fiftieth
anniversary of the wedding day in many countries, and the Elder Mother
sat in the tree and looked as pleased as she does now. "'I know when the golden wedding is to be,' said she, but they did not
hear her; they were talking of olden times. 'Do you remember,' said the
old sailor, 'when we were quite little and used to run about and play in
the very same yard where we are now sitting, and how we planted little
twigs in one corner and made a garden?' "'Yes,' said the old woman, 'I remember it quite well; and how we
watered the twigs, and one of them was a sprig of elder that took root
and put forth green shoots, until in time it became the great tree under
which we old people are now seated.' "'To be sure,' he replied, 'and in that corner yonder stands the water
butt in which I used to swim my boat that I had cut out all myself; and
it sailed well too. But since then I have learned a very different kind
of sailing.' "'Yes, but before that we went to school,' said she, 'and then we were
prepared for confirmation. How we both cried on that day! But in the
afternoon we went hand in hand up to the round tower and saw the view
over Copenhagen and across the water; then we went to Fredericksburg,
where the king and queen were sailing in their beautiful boat on the
canals.' "'But I had to sail on a very different voyage elsewhere and be away
from home for years on long voyages,' said the old sailor. "'Ah yes, and I used to cry about you,' said she, 'for I thought you
must be lying drowned at the bottom of the sea, with the waves sweeping
over you. And many a time have I got up in the night to see if the
weathercock had turned; it turned often enough, but you came not. How
well I remember one day the rain was pouring down from the skies, and
the man came to the house where I was in service to take away the dust. I went down to him with the dust box and stood for a moment at the
door,--what shocking weather it was!--and while I stood there the
postman came up and brought me a letter from you. "'How that letter had traveled about! I tore it open and read it. I
laughed and wept at the same time, I was so happy. It said that you were
in warm countries where the coffee berries grew, and what a beautiful
country it was, and described many other wonderful things. And so I
stood reading by the dustbin, with the rain pouring down, when all at
once somebody came and clasped me round the waist.' "'Yes, and you gave him such a box on the ears that they tingled,' said
the old man. "'I did not know that it was you,' she replied; 'but you had arrived as
quickly as your letter, and you looked so handsome, and, indeed, so you
are still. You had a large yellow silk handkerchief in your pocket and
a shiny hat on your head. You looked quite fine. And all the time what
weather it was, and how dismal the street looked!' "'And then do you remember,' said he, 'when we were married, and our
first boy came, and then Marie, and Niels, and Peter, and Hans
Christian?' "'Indeed I do,' she replied; 'and they are all grown up respectable men
and women, whom every one likes.' "'And now their children have little ones,' said the old sailor.