Previous - Next

was very pleasant when the sleek little Mice sat round me, and listened to
what I told them. Now that too is over. But I will take good care to enjoy
myself when I am brought out again."

But when was that to be? Why, one morning there came a quantity of people and
set to work in the loft. The trunks were moved, the tree was pulled out and
thrown--rather hard, it is true--down on the floor, but a man drew him towards
the stairs, where the daylight shone.

"Now a merry life will begin again," thought the Tree. He felt the fresh air,
the first sunbeam--and now he was out in the courtyard. All passed so quickly,
there was so much going on around him, the Tree quite forgot to look to
himself. The court adjoined a garden, and all was in flower; the roses hung so
fresh and odorous over the balustrade, the lindens were in blossom, the
Swallows flew by, and said, "Quirre-vit! My husband is come!" but it was not
the Fir Tree that they meant.

"Now, then, I shall really enjoy life," said he exultingly, and spread out his
branches; but, alas, they were all withered and yellow! It was in a corner
that he lay, among weeds and nettles. The golden star of tinsel was still on
the top of the Tree, and glittered in the sunshine.

In the court-yard some of the merry children were playing who had danced at
Christmas round the Fir Tree, and were so glad at the sight of him. One of the
youngest ran and tore off the golden star.

"Only look what is still on the ugly old Christmas tree!" said he, trampling
on the branches, so that they all cracked beneath his feet.

And the Tree beheld all the beauty of the flowers, and the freshness in the
garden; he beheld himself, and wished he had remained in his dark corner in
the loft; he thought of his first youth in the wood, of the merry
Christmas-eve, and of the little Mice who had listened with so much pleasure
to the story of Humpy-Dumpy.

"'Tis over--'tis past!" said the poor Tree. "Had I but rejoiced when I had
reason to do so! But now 'tis past, 'tis past!"

And the gardener's boy chopped the Tree into small pieces; there was a whole
heap lying there. The wood flamed up splendidly under the large brewing
copper, and it sighed so deeply! Each sigh was like a shot.

The boys played about in the court, and the youngest wore the gold star on his
breast which the Tree had had on the happiest evening of his life. However,
that was over now--the Tree gone, the story at an end. All, all was
over--every tale must end at last.



THE SNOW QUEEN

FIRST STORY. Which Treats of a Mirror and of the Splinters

Now then, let us begin. When we are at the end of the story, we shall know
more than we know now: but to begin.

Once upon a time there was a wicked sprite, indeed he was the most mischievous
of all sprites. One day he was in a very good humor, for he had made a mirror
with the power of causing all that was good and beautiful when it was
reflected therein, to look poor and mean; but that which was good-for-nothing

Previous - Next