Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1889-03-27
a STORY OF ODENsr.
How n Poor Boy Left His Native
Town and Returned Famous

Town and Returned Famous
The lesson in literature was the life
OF Hans Andersen. L laid down my
book and thought of the man whose
lite had studied, OF his pure, good
life In those northern cities, when:
Suddenly there stood bSfoTe me an
| odd little boy, odder than any had
ever seen before-a boy with large,
dreamy eyes, and hair that lay In curls
all over his head. lie was dressed in
little jacket and long trousers, all OF
| some dark wooden material. whIls a
pair OF little wooden shoes that clat-
tered as he walked and queer little
red cap, like a night cap. completed
the Costume of this strange little
boy
Gradually there rose up behind him
house, as strange to my eyes as the
boy, house OF one story, above which
rose a roof three times as large as the
other part, ending IN an abrupt peak.
| Slowly out of the mist that surrounded
both came other houses. but all resem-
bling the small one, although manF
were much larger, with several stories
in the high, steep roofs On some of
the roofs were nests made OF twIgs and
/ dry leaves, in which stood huge birds,
many OF them standing on one leg.
( Near by dull beating sound could be
/ heard-it was the sea beating against
/ the dikes-
The little boy opened the half door
OF the house and walked in to where a
/ woman stood stirring the evening por-
ridge.
She turned to him and said:
Hans. child, what hast kept thee so
long2'
The tailor sent me on an errand,
mother
And did he say thou couldst come,
/ child?' anxIously.
Thou art TO come tomorrow,
mother, and sign the paper and tears
shone in the little boys eyes as he said
the words. Then choking down the
sob that rose in his throat he caught
mis- mother about the neck.
oh, mother, mother; do not let me
60 Only let me go to Copenhagen and
[ Will make my way alone. L can do
it, mother, and L do not like the tallor's
trade"
The mother sat down on the wooden
settee holding the boy in her arms.
| The look on her face showed her heart IS
thoughts. How could she let her only
son go out into the world with neither
money nor friends; and yet, should she
make him unhappy by denying him his
one great wish? She would Work hard
aud never mind 1t If her boy was
happy.
She looked about the poor room and
then at the boy in her arms. Perhaps
some day he might return TO her IA
nous and happy. Should she let him
go? The poor mothers heart grew
sorer and sorer at the thought of let
ting her only nesting go out into the
cruel world alone.
Long did the mother and child sit by
the fire. The porridge began to burn;
the fire threw weird shadows through
the room; the cold evening air blew
through the lattice, but still they sat
there.
At last the smell of the burning pOr-
ridge recalled the mother Tenderly
putting the boy away from her she put
the dish of porTidge on the table and
they sat down to the poor meal In
silence.
"Hans, thou shalt have thy wish"
"Oh, mother, thou art good"
And where tears OF sorrow had stood
now shone tears OF JOY. The great
wish OF his life was given him. yet ht
felt for his mother with her aching and
unwilling heart, and he tenderly wiped
the tears from her eyes
49,
The boy is a man now. The town oi
Odense is brilliant with lights and
gayety.
Every house is decorated with bunt
ing and illuminated with bright lights
In the balconies before the window:
stand youths and maidens, old mer
and women, and even children, for i:
not all this done for one called ''Tht
Childreu's Friendl"
Below in the street is the surginG
crowd here 10 do honor to the mar
whose pure and simple life and beautt
full words had made him lovad by al
the lowly of that city. The expectancy
of the crowd grows greater every
] moment.
Every one is impatient, but at last 8
hush falls over the crowd. for the taini
sound of music is heard from afar, now
sinking in the distance, but each timt
heard growing clearer and nearer, I'll
At Last 1t come close, and the multitude
breaks into ore great shout in honor o.
{ their hero.
There he sat In the carriage drawn
. by four black horses, beside him somt
of the towns most distinguished men,
j and the hero of the evening In our old
I friend, Hans
{ The same noble face, with th'
: dreamy look In his eyes that he hat
when he wiped the tears from hi
, mothers cheeks.
That mother-was she not prouS
3 and happy to see her son come back II
I such triumph High up in balloon.
she sat looking with beaming eyes upo!
the procession below. The son, In al
his triumph, thought first OF tha
: mother VITO had helped him 50 much
, And this is the way Hans Christian