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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40553 ***
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 40553-h.htm or 40553-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40553/40553-h/40553-h.htm)
+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40553/40553-h.zip)
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      http://archive.org/details/cu31924003193673
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE FARMER'S WIFE]
+
+
+THE QUEEN BEE AND OTHER NATURE STORIES
+
+Translated from the Danish of
+
+CARL EWALD
+
+by
+
+G · C · Moore Smith
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Thomas Nelson & Sons
+London · Edinburgh · Dublin
+And New York · 1908 · · ·
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+BY THE TRANSLATOR.
+
+
+Carl Ewald's "Æventyr" or Nature Stories are well known and very
+popular in Denmark and the rest of Scandinavia, though they have never
+before this been brought to the notice of English readers. There are a
+number of series of them, the first of which consists of the stories
+given in this little book.
+
+This first series appeared in 1882, but took its definitive form in
+the edition of 1895. When it first appeared, it was introduced by a
+preface written by the author's father, the well-known historical
+novelist, H. F. Ewald. This preface ran as follows:--
+
+"It has often been a subject of complaint that our story books, with
+their nixies, trolls, and bewitched princes and princesses, give
+children superstitious ideas, and affect their imagination in a way
+which is not the best possible.
+
+"The author of the little stories to which I am writing a word of
+preface has struck out a way of his own. Holding that Nature, with
+its manifold and many-coloured life, contains new material on which
+children in their own way can draw, he has taken as the subject of his
+stories the phenomena of natural history.
+
+"As I think, he has performed his task in a taking and attractive
+manner, the child's fancy being sufficiently enthralled at the same
+time that it gets a true conception of the working of natural forces,
+a conception which will fix itself in the memory all the better for
+its poetical clothing.
+
+"It seems to me that the author's view is a sound one, so I gladly
+recommend his little book to parents who wish their children to read
+what is both pleasurable and instructive."
+
+There are some touches in the stories, of course, which belong rather
+to Denmark than England--for example, the custom of ringing the church
+bells at sunset, the complete disappearance of starlings in the winter
+months, the "starlings' box" which is ready for them to rest in on
+their return, the presence of the stork. The phenomenon of beech
+forests extruding and supplanting oak forests (referred to by Dr.
+Wallace in "Darwinism" as one of the most striking instances of
+"natural selection") is one of which there are clearer traces in
+Scandinavian countries than in Great Britain. But, on the whole,
+Nature is the same in England as in Denmark, and the English child
+who learns natural history from these stories will not be misdirected.
+
+Meanwhile, I hope that these stories of Carl Ewald will be loved for
+their own sake as stories merely. They have so much poetical
+imagination, ingenuity of incident, and bright wit, that they seem
+entitled to some share in the popularity accorded to the children's
+tales of another Danish writer, Hans Christian Andersen. Some English
+children have already listened to them eagerly, and many others, I
+hope, will take them into their favour when they are sent out into the
+world. They may even be read with pleasure by some who are children no
+longer. If this is not so, the fault must lie with the translator.
+
+    G. C. MOORE SMITH.
+    SHEFFIELD, 1907.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    THE QUEEN BEE
+    THE ANEMONES
+    THE MIST
+    THE BEECH AND THE OAK
+    THE DRAGON-FLY AND THE WATER-LILY
+    THE WEEDS
+    THE SPARROW
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF COLOURED PLATES.
+
+
+    THE FARMER'S WIFE,        _After a Drawing by Edmund Dulac._
+
+    THE BEEHIVES,             _After a Drawing by Gilbert James._
+
+    MY LADY SPRING,           _After a Drawing by Margaret E. Thompson._
+
+    THE EVENING HOUR,         _After a Drawing by Edmund Dulac._
+
+    IN THE EARLY DAYS,        _After a Drawing by John Hassall._
+
+    THE DRAGON-FLY
+    AND THE WATER-LILY,       _After a Drawing by Marie Webb._
+
+    THE FARMER AND HIS BOYS,  _After a Drawing by Gilbert James._
+
+    PREPARING FOR FLIGHT,     _After a Drawing by Carton Moore Park._
+
+    ILLUSTRATIVE BORDERS, HEADPIECES, ETC.
+
+
+
+
+_A DEDICATION._
+
+(_After CARL EWALD._)
+
+
+    _We strayed, thy little hand in mine,
+    One summer morning fresh and fine,
+        In a wood where birches met;
+    A great sun-bonnet served as frame
+    To rounded childish cheeks aflame--
+        Thy voice is ringing yet!
+    Of birdies' songs, of flowers, of trees--
+    Whate'er thy tender mind could seize--
+        I wove thee tales, my pet:
+    Ah, thou canst not remember it,
+        And I can ne'er forget!_
+
+    _And now my locks are thin and gray,
+    For years since then have slipped away,
+        For gladness or regret!
+    And ah, the woods where now I roam,
+    And those wide chambers of my home,
+        Know thee no more, Ninette!
+    Since I shall never find thee then,
+    Oh, let this Book remind thee then
+        Of a wood where birches met:
+    For thou canst not remember it,
+        And I can ne'er forget!_
+
+
+
+
+EWALD'S DANISH NATURE STORIES.
+
+Series I.
+
+
+
+
+The Queen Bee
+
+[Illustration: THE QUEEN BEE]
+
+
+The farmer opened his hive. "Off with you!" he said to the bees. "The
+sun is shining, and everywhere the flowers are coming out, so that it
+is a joy to see them. Get to work, and gather a good lot of honey for
+me to sell to the shopkeeper in the autumn. 'Many a streamlet makes a
+river,' and you know these are bad times for farmers."
+
+"What does that matter to us?" said the bees. But all the same they
+flew out; for they had been sitting all the winter in the hive, and
+they longed for a breath of fresh air.
+
+They hummed and buzzed, they stretched their legs, they tried their
+wings. They swarmed out in all directions; they crawled up and down
+the hive; they flew off to the flowers and bushes, or wandered all
+round on the ground. There were hundreds and hundreds of them.
+
+Last of all came the queen. She was bigger than the others, and it was
+she who ruled the hive.
+
+"Stop your nonsense, little children," she said, "and set to work and
+do something. A good bee does not idle, but turns to with a will and
+makes good use of its time."
+
+So she divided them into parties and set them to work.
+
+"You over there, fly out and see if there is any honey in the flowers.
+The others can collect flower-dust, and when you come home give it in
+smartly to the old bees in the hive."
+
+Away they flew at once. But all the very young ones stayed behind.
+They made the last party, for they had never been out with the others.
+
+"What are _we_ to do?" they asked.
+
+"You! you must perspire," said the queen. "One, two, three! Then we
+can begin our work."
+
+And they perspired as well as they had learned to, and the prettiest
+yellow wax came out of their bodies.
+
+"Good!" said the queen. "Now we will begin to build."
+
+The old bees took the wax, and began to build a number of little
+six-sided cells, all alike and close up to one another. All the time
+they were building, the others came flying in with flower-dust and
+honey, which they laid at the queen's feet.
+
+"We can now knead the dough," she said. "But first put a little honey
+in--that makes it taste so much better."
+
+They kneaded and kneaded, and before very long they had made some
+pretty little loaves of bee-bread, which they carried into the cells.
+
+"Now let us go on with the building," commanded the queen bee, and
+they perspired wax and built for all they were worth.
+
+"And now _my_ work begins," said the queen, and she heaved a deep
+sigh; for her work was the hardest work of all.
+
+She sat down in the middle of the hive and began to lay her eggs. She
+laid great heaps of them, and the bees were kept very busy running
+with the little eggs in their mouths and carrying them into the new
+cells. Each egg had a little cell to itself; and when they had all
+been put in their places, the queen gave orders to fix doors to all
+the cells and shut them fast.
+
+"Good!" she said, when this was done. "I want you now to build me ten
+fine big rooms in the out-of-the-way parts of the hive."
+
+The bees had them ready in no time, and then the queen laid ten pretty
+eggs, one in each of the big rooms, and the doors were fixed as
+before.
+
+Every day the bees flew in and out, gathering great heaps of honey and
+flower-dust; but in the evening, when their work was done, they would
+open the doors just a crack and have a peep at the eggs.
+
+"Take care," the queen said one day. "They are coming!"
+
+And all the eggs burst at once, and in every cell lay a pretty little
+bee-baby.
+
+"What funny creatures!" said the young bees. "They have no eyes, and
+where are their legs and wings?"
+
+"They are grubs," said the queen. "You simpletons looked just like
+that yourselves once upon a time. One must be a grub before one can
+become a bee. Be quick now, and give them something to eat."
+
+The bees bestirred themselves to feed the little ones, but they were
+not equally kind to them all. The ten, however, that lay in the large
+cells got as much to eat as ever they wanted, and every day a great
+quantity of honey was carried in to them.
+
+"They are princesses," said the queen, "so you must treat them well.
+The others you can stint; they are only working people, and they must
+accustom themselves to be content with what they can get."
+
+And every morning the poor little wretches got a little piece of
+bee-bread and nothing more, and with that they had to be satisfied,
+though they were ever so hungry.
+
+In one of the little six-sided cells close by the princesses' chambers
+lay a little tiny grub. She was the youngest of them all, and only
+just come out of the egg. She could not see, but she could plainly
+hear the grown-up bees talking outside, and for a while she lay quite
+still and kept her thoughts to herself.
+
+All at once she said out loud, "I could eat a little more," and she
+knocked at her door.
+
+"You have had enough for to-day," answered the old bee who was
+appointed to be head bee-nurse, creeping up and down in the passage
+outside.
+
+"Maybe, but I am hungry!" shouted the little grub. "I will go into one
+of the princesses' chambers; I have not room to stir here."
+
+"Just listen to her!" said the old bee mockingly. "One would think by
+the demands she makes that she was a fine little princess. You are
+born to toil and drudge, my little friend. You are a mere working bee,
+and you will never be anything else all your days."
+
+[Illustration: THE BEEHIVES]
+
+"But I want to be queen!" cried the grub, and thumped on the door.
+
+Of course the old bee did not answer such nonsense, but went on to the
+others. From every side they were calling out for more food, and the
+little grub could hear it all.
+
+"It is hard, though," she thought, "that we should have to be so
+hungry."
+
+And then she knocked on the princess's wall and called to her, "Give
+me a little of your honey. Let me come into your chamber. I am lying
+here so hungry, and I am just as good as you."
+
+"Are you? Just you wait till I am a reigning queen," said the
+princess. "You may be sure that when that time comes I shall not
+forget your impertinence."
+
+But she had scarcely said this before the other princesses began to
+cry out in the most dreadful manner.
+
+"_You're_ not going to be queen! _I_ shall be queen! _I_ shall be
+queen!" they shrieked all together, and they began to knock on the
+walls and make a frightful disturbance.
+
+The head bee-nurse came running up in an instant and opened the doors.
+
+"What are your graces' orders?" she asked, dropping a curtsy and
+scraping the ground with her feet.
+
+"More honey!" they shouted, all in one voice. "But me first--me first.
+I am the one who is to be queen."
+
+"In a moment, in a moment, your graces," she answered, and ran off as
+fast as her six legs could carry her.
+
+She soon came back with many other bees. They were dragging ever so
+much honey, which they crammed down the cross little princesses'
+throats. And then they got them to hold their tongues and lie still
+and rest.
+
+But the little grub lay awake, thinking over what had happened. She
+longed so much for some honey that she began to shake the door again.
+
+"Give me some honey! I can't stand it any longer. I am just as good as
+the others."
+
+The old bee tried to hush her.
+
+"Hold your tongue, little bawler! The queen's coming."
+
+And at the same moment the queen bee came.
+
+"Go your ways," she said to the bees; "I wish to be alone."
+
+For a long time she stood in silence before the princesses' chambers.
+
+"Now they are lying there asleep," she said at last. "From morning
+till evening they do nothing but eat and sleep, and they grow bigger
+and fatter every day. In a few days they will be full grown, and will
+creep out of their cells. Then my turn will be over. I know that too
+well. I have heard the bees saying to one another that they would like
+to have a younger and more beautiful queen, and they will chase me
+away in disgrace. But I will not submit to it. To-morrow I will kill
+them all; then I can remain queen till I die."
+
+Then she went away. But the little grub had heard all she said.
+
+"Dear me!" she thought; "it is really a pity about the little
+princesses. They are certainly very uppish, and they have not been
+nice to me, but still it would be sad if the wicked queen killed
+them. I think I will tell the old growler outside in the passage all
+about it."
+
+She began once more knocking at the door, and the head bee-nurse came
+running up, but this time she was fearfully angry.
+
+"You must mind what you are doing, my good grub," she said. "You are
+the youngest of them all, and you are the worst for making a noise.
+Next time I shall tell the queen."
+
+"First listen to me," said the grub, and she told her about the
+queen's wicked design.
+
+"Good gracious! is that true?" cried the old nurse, and beat her wings
+in horror. And without hearing a word more, she hurried off to tell
+the other bees.
+
+"I think I deserve a little honey for what I have done," said the
+little grub. "But I can now lie down and sleep with a good
+conscience."
+
+Next evening, when the queen thought that all the bees were in bed,
+she came to kill the princesses. The grub could hear her talking aloud
+to herself. But she was quite afraid of the wicked queen, and dared
+not stir.
+
+"I hope she won't kill the princesses," she thought, and squeezed
+herself nearer to the door to hear what happened.
+
+The queen looked cautiously round on all sides, and then opened the
+first of the doors. But at the same moment the bees swarmed out from
+all directions, seized her by the legs and wings, and dragged her out.
+
+"What is the matter?" she cried. "Are you raising a rebellion?"
+
+"No, your majesty," answered the bees, with great reverence; "but we
+know that you are intending to kill the princesses, and _that_ you
+shall not be allowed to do. What would become of us in the autumn
+after your majesty's death?"
+
+"Let me go!" cried the queen, and tried to get away. "I am queen now
+anyway, and have the power to do what I like. How do you know that I
+shall die in the autumn?"
+
+But the bees held her fast, and dragged her outside the hive. There
+they set her free, but she shook her wings in a passion and said to
+them,--
+
+"You are disloyal subjects, who are not worth ruling over. I won't
+stay here an hour longer, but I will go out into the world and build a
+new nest. Are there any of you who will come with me?"
+
+Some of the old bees, who had been grubs at the same time as the
+queen, declared that they would follow her. And soon after they flew
+away.
+
+"Now we have no queen," said the others, "we must take good care of
+the princesses." And so they crammed them with honey from morning till
+night; and they grew, and grabbed, and squabbled, and made more noise
+each day than the day before.
+
+As for the little grub, no one gave a single thought to her.
+
+One morning the doors of the princesses' chambers flew open, and all
+ten of them stepped out, beautiful full-grown queen bees. The other
+bees ran up and gazed at them in admiration.
+
+"How pretty they are!" they said. "It is hard to say which is the
+most beautiful."
+
+"_I_ am!" one cried.
+
+"You make a mistake," said another, and stabbed her with her sting.
+
+"You are rather conceited," shrieked a third. "I imagine that _I_ am
+rather prettier than you are."
+
+And immediately they all began calling out at once, and soon after
+began to fight with one another as hard as ever they could.
+
+The bees would have liked to separate them, but the old head bee-nurse
+said to them,--
+
+"Let them go on fighting; then we shall see which of them is the
+strongest, and we will choose her to be our queen. We can't do with
+more than one."
+
+At this the bees formed round in a ring and looked on at the battle.
+It lasted a long time, and it was fiercely fought. Wings and legs
+which had been bitten off were flying about in the air, and after some
+time eight of the princesses lay dead upon the ground. The two last
+were still fighting. One of them had lost all her wings, and the
+other had only four legs left.
+
+"She will be a poor sort of queen whichever of the two we get," said
+one of the bees. "We should have done better to have kept the old
+one."
+
+But she might have spared herself the remark, for in the same moment
+the princesses gave each other such a stab with their stings that they
+both fell dead as a door-nail.
+
+"That is a pretty business!" called the bees, and ran about among each
+other in dismay. "Now we have no queen! What shall we do? what shall
+we do?"
+
+In despair they crawled about the hive, and did not know which way to
+turn. But the oldest and cleverest sat in a corner and held a council.
+For a long time they talked this way and that as to what they should
+decide on doing in their unhappy circumstances. But at last the head
+bee-nurse got a hearing, and said,--
+
+"I can tell you how you can get out of the difficulty, if you will but
+follow my advice. I remember that the same misfortune happened to us
+in this hive a long time ago. I was then a grub myself. I lay in my
+cell, and distinctly heard what took place. All the princesses had
+killed one another, and the old queen had gone out into the world: it
+was just as it is now. But the bees took one of us grubs and laid her
+in one of the princesses' cells. They fed her every day with the
+finest and best honey in the whole hive; and when she was full-grown,
+she was a charming and good queen. I can clearly remember the whole
+affair, for I thought at the time that they might just as well have
+taken me. But we may do the same thing again. I propose that we act in
+the same way."
+
+The bees were delighted, and cried that they would willingly do so,
+and they ran off at once to fetch a grub.
+
+"Wait a moment," cried the head bee-nurse, "and take me with you. At
+any rate, I will come and help you. Consider now. It must be one of
+the youngest grubs, for she must have time to think over her new
+position. When one has been brought up to be a mere drudge, it is not
+easy to accustom oneself to wear a crown."
+
+That also seemed to the bees to be wise, and the old one went on,--
+
+"Close by the side of the princesses' cells lies a little grub. She is
+the youngest of them all. She must have learnt a good deal by hearing
+the princesses' refined conversation, and I have noticed that she has
+some character. Besides, it was she who was honourable enough to tell
+me about the wicked intentions of the old queen. Let us take her."
+
+At once they went in a solemn procession to the six-sided cell where
+the little grub lay. The head bee-nurse politely knocked at the door,
+opened it cautiously, and told the grub what the bees had decided. At
+first she could hardly believe her own ears; but when they had carried
+her carefully into one of the large, delightful chambers, and brought
+her as much honey as she could eat, she perceived that it was all in
+earnest.
+
+"So I am to be queen after all," she said to the head bee-nurse. "You
+would not believe it, you old growler!"
+
+"I hope that your majesty will forget the rude remarks that I made at
+the time you lay in the six-sided cell," said the old bee, with a
+respectful bow.
+
+"I forgive you," said the new-baked princess. "Fetch me some more
+honey."
+
+A little time after the grub was full grown, and stepped out of her
+cell as big and as beautiful as the bees could wish. And besides, she
+knew how to command.
+
+"Away with you!" she said. "We must have more honey for our use in the
+winter, and you others must perspire more wax. I am thinking of
+building a new wing to the hive. The new princesses shall live there
+next year; it is very unsuitable for them to be so near common grubs."
+
+"Heyday!" said the bees to one another. "One would think she had been
+a queen ever since she lay in the egg."
+
+"No," said the head bee-nurse; "that is not so. But she has had
+_queenly thoughts_, and that is the great thing."
+
+
+
+
+The Anemones
+
+[Illustration: The Anemones]
+
+
+"Peeweet! peeweet!" cried the plover, as he flew over the bog in the
+wood. "My Lady Spring is coming! I can tell it from the feeling in my
+legs and wings."
+
+When the new grass that lay below in the earth heard that, it pushed
+up at once and peeped out merrily from among the old yellow grass of
+last year. For the grass is always in a great hurry.
+
+The anemones in among the trees also heard the plover's cry; but they,
+on the contrary, would not come up yet on any account.
+
+"You must not believe the plover," they whispered to one another. "He
+is a gay young spark who is not to be depended upon. He always comes
+too early, and begins crying out at once. No, we will wait quietly
+till the starlings and swallows come. They are sensible, steady-going
+people who know what's what, and don't go sailing with half a wind."
+
+And then the starlings came. They perched on the stumps in front of
+their summer villa, and looked about them.
+
+"Too early as usual," said Daddy Starling. "Not a green leaf and not a
+fly to be seen, except an old tough one from last year, which isn't
+worth opening one's bill for."
+
+Mother Starling said nothing, but she did not seem any more enchanted
+with the prospect.
+
+"If we had only stayed in our cosy winter home down there beyond the
+mountains," said Daddy Starling. He was angry at his wife's not
+answering him, because he was so cold that he thought it might do him
+good to have a little fun. "But it is _your_ fault, as it was last
+year. You are always in such a dreadful hurry to come out to the
+country."
+
+"If I am in a hurry, I know the reason for it," said Mother Starling.
+"And you ought to be ashamed of yourself if you didn't know it also,
+since they are your eggs just as much as mine."
+
+"What do you mean?" said Daddy Starling, much insulted. "When have I
+neglected my family? Perhaps you even want me to sit in the cold and
+sing to you?"
+
+"Yes, I do," said Mother Starling in the tone he couldn't resist.
+
+He began to pipe at once as well as he knew how. But Mother Starling
+had no sooner heard the first notes than she gave him a flap with her
+wings and snapped at him with her beak.
+
+"Oh, please stop it!" she cried bitterly. "It sounds so sad that it
+makes one quite heartsick. Instead of piping like that, get the
+anemones to come up. I think it must be time for them. And besides,
+one always feels warmer when there are others freezing besides
+oneself."
+
+Now as soon as the anemones had heard the first piping of the
+starling, they cautiously stuck out their heads from the earth. But
+they were so tightly wrapped up in green kerchiefs that one could not
+get a glimpse of them. They looked like green shoots which might turn
+into anything.
+
+"It is too early," they whispered. "It is a shame of the starling to
+entice us out. One can't rely on anything in the world nowadays."
+
+Then the swallow came.
+
+"Chee! chee!" he twittered, and shot through the air on his long,
+tapering wings. "Out with you, you stupid flowers! Don't you see that
+my Lady Spring has come?"
+
+But the anemones had grown cautious. They only drew their green
+kerchiefs a little apart and peeped out.
+
+"One swallow does not make a summer," they said. "Where is your wife?
+You have only come here to see if it is possible to stay here, and you
+want to take us in. But we are not so stupid. We know very well that
+if we once catch a bad cold we are done for, for this year at any
+rate."
+
+[Illustration: MY LADY SPRING]
+
+"You are cowards," said the swallow, perching himself on the
+forest-ranger's weathercock, and peering out over the landscape.
+
+But the anemones waited still and shivered. A few of them who could
+not control their impatience threw off their kerchiefs in the sun. The
+cold at night nipped and killed them; and the story of their pitiful
+death was passed on from flower to flower, and caused a great
+consternation.
+
+And then--one delightfully mild, still night--my Lady Spring came.
+
+No one knows how she looks, because no one has ever seen her. But all
+long for her, and thank her and bless her. She goes through the wood
+and touches the flowers and trees, and at once they burst out. She
+goes through the cattle-stalls and unties the beasts, and lets them
+out on to the field. She goes straight into the hearts of men and
+fills them with gladness. She makes it hard for the best boy to sit
+still on his form at school, and she is the cause of a terrible
+number of mistakes in the copy-books.
+
+But she does not do all this at once. Night after night she plies her
+task, and she comes first to him who longs for her most.
+
+So it happened that on the very night of her coming she went straight
+to the anemones, who stood in their green kerchiefs and didn't know
+how to hold out any longer.
+
+And one, two, three! there they stood in their newly-ironed white
+collars, and looked so fresh and so pretty that the starlings sang
+their prettiest songs out of sheer joy in them.
+
+"Ah, how sweet it is here!" said the anemones. "How warm the sun is,
+and how the birds sing! It is a thousand times better than last year."
+
+But they said the same thing every year, so one needn't take any
+account of it.
+
+There were many others who were quite beside themselves when they saw
+the anemones had come out. One was a schoolboy who wanted to have his
+summer holidays at once; and another was the beech tree, who felt
+exceedingly put out.
+
+"Aren't you coming soon to me, my Lady Spring?" he said. "I am a much
+more important person than those silly anemones, and I can't really
+hold in my buds much longer."
+
+"I am coming, I am coming," answered my Lady Spring. "But you must
+give me a little time."
+
+She went on her way through the wood, and at every step many and many
+an anemone burst into flower. They stood in crowds round the roots of
+the birch tree, and bashfully bowed their round heads to the earth.
+
+"Look up," said my Lady Spring, "and rejoice in God's bright sunshine.
+Your life is short, so you must enjoy it while you have it."
+
+The anemones did as she told them. They stretched and strained, and
+spread their white petals to all sides, to drink as much sunshine as
+they could. They pushed their heads against one another, and twined
+their stalks together, and laughed, and were immensely happy.
+
+"Now I can wait no longer," said the beech, and he burst into leaf.
+
+Leaf after leaf crept forth from its green sheath and waved in the
+wind. The great tree made a green arch, like a mighty roof over the
+earth.
+
+"Dear me, is it already evening?" asked the anemones, who noticed that
+it had grown quite dark.
+
+"No; it is Death," said my Lady Spring. "Now _your_ time is over. It
+happens to you just as it happens to all that is best on earth.
+Everything in turn must spring to life, and bloom, and die."
+
+"Die?" cried some little anemones. "Must we die already?"
+
+And some of the big ones grew quite red in the face in their terror
+and vexation.
+
+"We know what it is," they said. "It is the beech that is the death of
+us. He steals the sunshine for his own leaves, and does not allow us a
+single ray. He is a mean, wicked thing."
+
+They stood for some days, grumbling and crying. Then my Lady Spring
+came for the last time through the wood. She had still the oak trees
+and some other crusty old fellows to attend to.
+
+"Lie down nicely in the earth and go to sleep," she said to the
+anemones. "It is of no use to kick against the pricks. Next year I
+will come back and waken you once more to life."
+
+And some of the anemones did as she told them. But others still
+stretched their heads into the air, and grew so ugly and stalky that
+it was horrid to see them.
+
+"Fie for shame!" they cried to the beech leaves. "It is you who are
+killing us."
+
+But the beech shook his long boughs and let his brown husks drop down
+to the ground.
+
+"Wait till the autumn, you little simpletons," he said, laughing.
+"Then you shall see."
+
+The anemones could not understand what he meant. But when they had
+stretched themselves till they were as tall as they could be, they
+broke off and withered.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The summer was over, and the farmer had carried his corn home from the
+field.
+
+The wood was still green, but it was a darker green than before; and
+in many places red and yellow leaves glowed among the green ones. The
+sun was tired after his hot work in the summer, and went early to bed.
+
+At night Winter was stealing about among the trees to see if his time
+was not soon coming. When he found a flower, he gallantly kissed it,
+saying,--
+
+"What! are you here still? I am charmed to meet you. Please stay where
+you are. I am a good old man, and would not harm a cat."
+
+But the flower shuddered at his kiss, and the transparent dewdrop that
+hung from its petal froze to ice at the instant.
+
+Again and again Winter ran through the wood. When he breathed on them,
+the leaves turned yellow and the earth grew hard.
+
+Even the anemones, who lay below in the earth waiting till my Lady
+Spring should come back as she had promised, they too felt his breath
+and shuddered down in their roots.
+
+"Ugh! how cold it is!" they said to one another. "How shall we stand
+the winter? We shall die for a certainty before it is over."
+
+"Now it's _my_ time," said Winter. "Now I need no longer steal about
+like a thief in the night. After to-day I shall look everybody in the
+face, and bite their noses, and make their eyes run with water."
+
+At night he let loose the storm. "Let me see you make a clean sweep,"
+he said. And the storm obeyed his command. He went howling through the
+wood, and shook the branches till they creaked and cracked. Any that
+were rotten broke off, and those that held on had to turn and bow this
+way and that.
+
+"Away with that finery!" howled the storm as he tore off the leaves.
+"This is not the time to dress yourself up. The snow will soon be
+coming on to your branches; that will be quite another story."
+
+All the leaves fell in terror to the earth, but the storm would not
+let them rest. He seized them round the waist and waltzed with them
+out over the field, high up into the air, and into the wood again,
+swept them into great heaps, and then scattered them in all
+directions--just as it pleased him.
+
+Not till morning came did the storm grow weary and lie down to rest.
+
+"Now you shall have peace for a time," he said. "I will take a rest
+till we have the spring cleaning. Then we can have another turn
+together--that is, if there are any of you left by then."
+
+And the leaves lay down to rest, and spread themselves like a thick
+carpet over the whole land.
+
+The anemones felt that it had become pleasantly warm.
+
+"Can it be my Lady Spring already?" they asked each other.
+
+"I haven't got my buds ready," shouted one of them.
+
+"Nor I! Nor I!" cried the others in one voice.
+
+But one of them took courage and peeped out over the earth.
+
+"Good-morning!" cried the withered beech leaves. "It is a little too
+early, little lady. I hope you will be none the worse for it."
+
+"Isn't it my Lady Spring?" inquired the anemone.
+
+"Not yet," answered the beech leaves. "It is only the green beech
+leaves that you were so angry with last summer. The green has gone
+from us, so we have no great finery to boast of now. We have enjoyed
+our youth and had our fling, I can tell you. And now we lie here and
+protect all the little flowers in the earth against the winter."
+
+"And meanwhile _I_ stand shivering in all my bare boughs," said the
+beech peevishly.
+
+The anemones talked it over one to another down below in the earth,
+and thought it was grand.
+
+"Those grand beech leaves!" they said.
+
+"Mind you remember this next summer when I burst into leaf," said the
+beech.
+
+"We will! we will!" whispered the anemones.
+
+But that sort of promise is easily made--and easily broken.
+
+
+
+
+THE MIST
+
+[Illustration: THE MIST]
+
+
+The sun had just gone down.
+
+The frog was croaking his "good-night," which lasted so long that
+there seemed no end to it. The bee was creeping into its hive, and
+little children were crying because they had to go to bed. The flower
+was closing up its petals and bowing its head; the bird was tucking
+its bill under its wing; and the stag was laying himself down to rest
+in the tall, soft grass in the glade of the wood.
+
+From the village church the bells were ringing for sunset, and when
+that was over the old clerk went home. On his way he had a little chat
+or two with the people who were out for an evening stroll, or were
+standing before their gate and smoking a pipe till they bade him
+good-night and shut the door.
+
+Then it grew quite quiet, and the darkness fell. There was a light in
+the parson's house, and there was one also in the doctor's. But the
+farmers' houses were dark, because in summer-time the farmers get up
+so early that they must go early to bed.
+
+And then the stars began to twinkle, and the moon crept higher and
+higher up the sky. Down in the village a dog was barking. But it must
+have been barking in a dream, for there was nothing to bark at.
+
+"Is there anybody there?" asked the mist.
+
+But nobody answered, for nobody was there. So the mist issued forth in
+her bright, airy robes. She went dancing over the meadows, up and
+down, to and fro. Then she lay quite still for a moment, and then she
+took to dancing again. Out over the lake she skipped and deep into the
+wood, where she threw her long, damp arms round the trunks of the
+trees.
+
+"Who are you, my friend?" asked the night-violet,[A] who stood there
+giving forth fragrance just to please herself.
+
+[Footnote A: An inconspicuous flower which in Denmark is very fragrant
+in the evening, the "night-smelling rocket" (_Hesperis tristis_).]
+
+The mist did not answer, but went on dancing.
+
+"I asked you who you were," said the night-violet. "And as you don't
+answer me, I conclude that you are a rude person."
+
+"I will now conclude _you_," said the mist. And then she spread
+herself round the night-violet, so that her petals were dashed with
+wet.
+
+"Oh, oh!" cried the night-violet. "Keep your fingers to yourself, my
+friend. I have a feeling as if I had been dipped in the pond. You have
+no reason for getting so angry just because I asked you who you are."
+
+The mist let go of her again.
+
+"Who am I?" she said. "You could not understand even if I told you."
+
+"Try," said the night-violet.
+
+"I am the dewdrop on the flower, the cloud in the sky, and the mist on
+the meadow," said the mist.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said the night-violet. "Would you mind saying
+that again? The dewdrop I know. It settles every morning on my leaves,
+and I don't think it is at all like you."
+
+"No; but it is I all the same," said the mist mournfully. "But no one
+knows me. I must live my life under many shapes. One time I am dew,
+and another time I am rain; and yet another time I babble as a clear,
+cool streamlet through the wood. But when I dance on the meadows in
+the evening, men say that it is the marsh-lady brewing."
+
+"It is a strange story," said the night-violet. "Do you mind telling
+it to me? The night is long, and I sometimes get a little bored by
+it."'
+
+"It is a sad story," answered the mist. "But you may have it and
+welcome."
+
+But when she was about to lie down the night-violet shook with terror
+in all her petals.
+
+"Be so kind as to keep at a little distance," she said, "at least till
+you have properly introduced yourself. I have never cared to be on
+familiar terms with people I don't know."
+
+So the mist lay down a little way off and began her story:--
+
+"I was born deep down in the earth--far deeper than your roots go.
+There I and my sisters--for we are a large family, you must
+understand--came into the world as waves of a hidden spring, pure and
+clear as crystal; and for a long time we had to stay in our
+hiding-place. But one day we suddenly leapt from a hillside into the
+full light of the sun. You can well imagine how delightful it was to
+come tumbling down through the wood. We hopped over stones and rippled
+against the bank. Pretty little fishes gambolled amongst us, and the
+trees bent over so that their beautiful green was reflected in our
+waters. If a leaf fell, we cradled it and fondled it and carried it
+out with us into the wide world. Ah, that was delightful! It was
+indeed the happiest time of my life."
+
+"But when are you going to tell me how you came to turn into mist?"
+asked the night-violet impatiently. "I know all about the underground
+spring. When the air is quite still, I can hear it murmur from where
+I stand."
+
+The mist lifted herself a little and took a turn round the meadow.
+Then she came back, and went on with her story:--
+
+"It is the worst of this world that one is never contented with what
+one has. So it was with us. We kept running on and on, till at last we
+ran into a great lake, where water-lilies rocked on the water and
+dragon-flies hummed on their great stiff wings. Up on the surface the
+lake was clear as a mirror. But whether we wished it or not, we had to
+run right down by the bottom, where it was dark and gruesome. And this
+I could not endure. I longed for the sunbeams. I knew them so well
+from the time I used to run in the brook. There they used to peep down
+through the leaves and pass over me in fleeting gleams. I longed so
+much to see them again that I stole up to the surface, and lay down in
+the sunshine all amongst the white water-lilies and their great green
+leaves. But, ugh! how the sun burnt me there on the lake! It was
+scarcely bearable. Bitterly did I regret that I had not stopped down
+below."
+
+[Illustration: THE EVENING HOUR]
+
+"I can't say this part of your story is very amusing," said the
+night-violet. "Isn't the mist soon coming?"
+
+"Here it is!" said the mist, and dropped down once more on the flower,
+so that it nearly had the breath squeezed out of it.
+
+"Ough! ough!" shrieked the night-violet. "Upon my word, you are the
+most ill-natured person I have ever known. Move off, and go on with
+your story, since it must be so."
+
+"In the evening, when the sun had set, I suddenly became wonderfully
+light," said the mist. "I don't know how it came about, but I thought
+I could rise up from the lake and fly; and before I knew anything
+about it, I was drifting over the water, far away from the
+dragon-flies and the water-lilies. The evening breeze bore me away. I
+flew high up into the air, and there I met many of my sisters, who had
+been just as eager for novelty as myself, and had had the same fate.
+We drifted across the sky, for, you see, we had become clouds."
+
+"I am not sure I do see," said the night-violet. "The thing sounds
+incredible."
+
+"But it is true all the same," answered the mist. "And let me tell
+you what happened then. The wind carried us for a long way through
+the air. But all at once it would not do so any more, and let us
+drop. Down we fell on to the earth as a splashing shower of rain.
+The flowers all shut up in a hurry, and the birds crept under
+cover--except, of course, the ducks and the geese, for, you know, the
+wetter it is the more they like it. Yes--and the farmer too! He wanted
+rain so much for his crops, he stood there hugely delighted, and did
+not in the least mind getting wet. But otherwise we really did make
+quite a sensation."
+
+"Oh! so you are the rain as well?" said the night-violet. "I must say
+you have plenty to do."
+
+"Yes, I'm never idle," said the mist.
+
+"All the same, I have not yet heard how you became mist," said the
+night-violet. "Only, _please_ don't get into a passion again. You know
+you promised to tell me without my asking you, and I would sooner
+hear the whole story over again than shiver once more in your horrid,
+clammy arms."
+
+The mist lay silent and sobbed for a few moments. Then she went on
+with her story:--
+
+"After I had fallen on the earth as rain, I sank down into the black
+soil, and was already congratulating myself on soon getting back to my
+birthplace, the deep underground spring. There, at any rate, one
+enjoyed peace and had no cares. But, as I was sinking into the ground,
+the tree roots sucked me up, and I had to wander about for a whole day
+in the boughs and leaves. They treated me as a beast of burden, I
+assure you. All the food that the leaves and flowers needed I had to
+carry up to them from the roots. It was not till the evening that I
+managed to get away. When the sun had gone down the flowers and trees
+all heaved a deep sigh, and I and my sisters flew off in that sigh in
+the form of bright airy mists. To-night we dance on the meadow. But
+when the sun rises in the morning we shall turn into those pretty
+transparent dewdrops which hang from your petals. When you shake us
+off we shall sink deeper and deeper till we reach the spring we came
+from--that is, if some root or other does not snap us up on the way.
+And so the journey goes on. Down the brook, out into the lake, up into
+the air, down again to the earth--"
+
+"Stop!" said the night-violet. "If I listen to you any more, I shall
+become quite sea-sick."
+
+Now the frog began to stir. He stretched his legs, and went down to
+the ditch to take his morning bath. The birds began to twitter in the
+wood, and the bellow of the stag echoed amongst the trees. It was on
+the point of dawn, and here came the sun peeping up over the hill.
+
+"Hullo, what is that?" he said. "What a strange sight! One can't see
+one's hand before one's face. Wind of the morning! up with you, you
+sluggard, and drive the foul mists away."
+
+The morning wind came over the meadow, and away went the mists. And at
+the very same moment the first rays of the sun fell right on the
+night-violet.
+
+"Heyday!" said the flower. "We have got the sun already, so I had
+better make haste and shut up. Where in the world has the mist gone
+to?"
+
+"I am still here," said the dewdrop that hung on its stalk.
+
+But the night-violet shook herself peevishly. "You may stuff up
+children with that nonsense," she said. "As for me, I don't believe a
+word of your whole story. It is as weak as water."
+
+Then the sun laughed and said, "You are quite right _there_!"
+
+
+
+
+THE BEECH AND THE OAK
+
+[Illustration: THE BEECH AND THE OAK]
+
+
+It all happened long, long ago. There were no towns then with houses
+and streets, and church steeples domineering over everything. There
+were no schools, for there were not many boys, and those that there
+were learnt from their father to shoot with the bow and arrow, to hunt
+the stag in his covert, to kill the bear in order to make clothes out
+of his skin, and to rub two pieces of wood together till they caught
+fire. When they knew this perfectly, they had finished their
+education. There were no railways either, and no cultivated fields, no
+ships on the sea, no books, for there was nobody who could read them.
+
+There was scarcely anything except trees. But trees there were in
+plenty. They stood everywhere from coast to coast; they saw themselves
+reflected in all the rivers and lakes, and stretched their mighty
+boughs up towards heaven. They leaned out over the shore, dipped their
+boughs in the black fen water, and from the high hills looked out
+proudly over the land.
+
+They all knew each other, for they belonged to a great family, and
+were proud of it.
+
+"We are all _oak_ trees," they said. "We own the land, and rule over
+it."
+
+And they were right. There were only a few human beings there in those
+days, and those that there were were nothing better than wild animals.
+The bear, the wolf, and the fox went out hunting, while the stag
+grazed by the edge of the fen. The field-mouse sat outside his hole
+and ate acorns, and the beaver built his artistic houses by the river
+banks.
+
+One day the bear came trudging along and lay down at full breadth
+under a great oak tree.
+
+"Are you there again, you robber?" said the oak, and shook a lot of
+withered leaves down over him.
+
+"You should not squander your leaves, my old friend," said the bear,
+licking his paws. "That is all the shade you can give against the
+sun."
+
+"If you are not pleased with me, you can go," answered the oak
+proudly. "I am lord in the land, and whatever way you look you find my
+brothers and nothing else."
+
+"True," muttered the bear. "That is just what is so sickening. I have
+been for a little tour abroad, I may tell you, and am just a little
+bit spoilt. It was in a land down towards the south--there I took a
+nap under the beech trees. They are tall, slim trees, not crooked old
+things like you. And their tops are so dense that the sunbeams cannot
+creep through them. It was a real pleasure there to take a midday nap,
+I assure you."
+
+"Beech trees?" said the oak inquisitively. "What are they?"
+
+"You might well wish you were half as pretty as a beech tree," said
+the bear. "But I don't want to chatter any more with you just now. I
+have had to trot a mile on account of a confounded hunter who struck
+me on one of my hind legs with an arrow. Now I should like to have a
+sleep, and perhaps you will be kind enough to leave me at peace, since
+you cannot give me shade."
+
+The bear stretched himself out and closed his eyes; but he got no
+sleep _that_ time, for the other trees had heard his story, and they
+began chattering and talking and rustling their leaves in a way never
+known in the wood before.
+
+"What on earth can those trees be?" said one of them.
+
+"It is, of course, a mere story; the bear wishes to impose upon us,"
+said the other.
+
+"What kind of trees can they be whose leaves sit so close together
+that the sunbeams cannot creep between them?" asked a little oak, who
+was listening to what the big ones were talking about.
+
+But by his side stood an old gnarled tree, who gave the little oak a
+clout on the head with one of his lowest boughs.
+
+"Hold your tongue," he said, "and don't talk till you have something
+to talk about. You need none of you believe a word of the bear's
+nonsense. I am much taller than you, and I can see far out over the
+wood. But so far as ever I can see, there is nothing but oak trees."
+
+The little oak was shamefaced, and held his tongue; and the other big
+trees spoke to one another in low whispers, for they had great respect
+for the old one.
+
+But the bear got up and rubbed his eyes. "Now you have disturbed my
+midday nap," he growled angrily, "and I declare that I will have my
+revenge. When I come back I will bring some beech nuts with me, and I
+vow you will all turn yellow with jealousy when you see how pretty the
+new trees are."
+
+Then he made off. But the oaks talked the whole day long one to
+another about the funny trees he had told them about.
+
+"If they come, I will kill them," said the little oak tree, but
+directly afterwards he got one on the head from the old oak.
+
+"If they come, you shall treat them politely, you young dog," said he.
+"But they will not come."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But in this the old oak was wrong, for they did come.
+
+Towards autumn the bear came back and lay down under the old oak.
+
+"My friends down there wish me to present their compliments," he said,
+and he picked some funny things out of his shaggy coat. "Here you may
+see what I have for you."
+
+"What is it?" asked the oak.
+
+"That is _beech_," answered the bear--"the beech nuts which I promised
+you."
+
+Then he trampled them into the ground and prepared to go back.
+
+"It is a pity I cannot stay and see how angry you will be," he
+growled, "but those confounded human beings have begun to press one so
+hard. The day before yesterday they killed my wife and one of my
+brothers, and I must see about finding a place where I can live in
+peace. There is scarcely a spot left where a self-respecting bear can
+stay. Good-bye, you old, gnarled oak trees!"
+
+When the bear had shambled off, the trees looked at one another
+anxiously.
+
+"Let us see what comes of it," said the old oak.
+
+And after this they composed themselves to rest. The winter came and
+tore all their leaves off them, the snow lay high over the whole land,
+and every tree stood deep in his own thoughts and dreamt of the
+spring.
+
+And when the spring came the grass stood green, and the birds began
+singing where they left off last. The flowers came up in multitudes
+from the earth, and everything looked fresh and gay.
+
+The oak trees alone stood with leafless boughs.
+
+"It is the most dignified thing to come last!" they said one to
+another. "The kings of the wood do not come till the whole company is
+assembled."
+
+But at last they came. All the leaves burst forth from the swollen
+buds, and the trees looked at one another and complimented one
+another on their beauty. The little oak had grown ever so much. He was
+very proud of it, and he thought that he had now the right to join in
+the conversation.
+
+"Nothing has come yet of the bear's beech trees," he said jeeringly,
+at the same time glancing anxiously up at the old oak, who used to
+give him one on the head.
+
+The old oak heard what he said very plainly, and the other trees also;
+but they said nothing. Not one of them had forgotten what the bear had
+told them, and every morning when the sun came out they peeped down to
+look for the beeches. They were really a little uneasy, but they were
+too proud to talk about it.
+
+And one day the little shoots did at last burst forth from the earth.
+The sun shone on them, and the rain fell on them, so it was not long
+before they grew tall.
+
+"Oh, how pretty they are!" said the great oak, and stooped his crooked
+boughs still more, so that they could get a good view of them.
+
+"You are welcome among us," said the old oak, and graciously inclined
+his head to them. "You shall be my foster-children, and be treated
+just as well as my own."
+
+"Thanks," said the little beeches, and they said no more.
+
+But the little oak could not bear the strange trees. "It is dreadful
+the way you shoot up into the air," he said in vexation. "You are
+already half as tall as I am. But I beg you to take notice that I am
+much older, and of good family besides."
+
+The beeches laughed with their little, tiny green leaves, but said
+nothing.
+
+"Shall I bend my branches a little aside so that the sun can shine
+better on you?" the old tree asked politely.
+
+"Many thanks," answered the beeches. "We can grow very nicely in the
+shade."
+
+And the whole summer passed by, and another summer after that, and
+still more summers. The beeches went on growing, and at last quite
+overtopped the little oak.
+
+"Keep your leaves to yourself," cried the oak; "you overshadow me, and
+that is what I can't endure. I must have plenty of sunshine. Take
+your leaves away or I perish."
+
+The beeches only laughed and went on growing. At last they closed
+together over the little oak's head, and then he died.
+
+"That was a horrid thing to do," a great oak called out, and shook his
+boughs in terror.
+
+But the old oak took his foster-children under his protection.
+
+"It serves him right," he said. "He is paid out for his boasting. I
+say it, though he is my own flesh and blood. But now you must behave
+yourselves, little beeches, or I will give you a clout on the head."
+
+Years went by, and the beeches went on growing, and they grew till
+they were tall young trees, which reached up among the branches of the
+old oak.
+
+"You begin to be rather pushing," the old tree said. "You should try
+to grow a little broader, and stop this shooting up into the air. Just
+see where your branches are soaring. Bend them properly, as you see us
+do. How will you be able to hold out when a regular storm comes? I
+assure you the wind gives one's head a good shaking. My old boughs
+have creaked many a time; and what do you think will become of the
+flimsy finery that you stick up in the air?"
+
+[Illustration: IN THE EARLY DAYS]
+
+"Every one has his own manner of growth, and we have ours," answered
+the young beeches. "This is the way it's done where we come from, and
+we are perhaps as good as you are."
+
+"That is not a polite way of speaking to an old tree with moss on his
+boughs," said the oak. "I begin to repent that I was so kind to you.
+If you have a spark of honourable feeling alive in you, be good enough
+to move your leaves a little to one side. There have been scarcely any
+buds on my lowest branches this year, you overshadow me so."
+
+"I don't quite understand how that concerns us," answered the beeches.
+"Every one has quite enough to do to look after himself. If he is
+equal to his work, and has luck, it turns out well for him; if not,
+he must be prepared to go to the wall. That is the way of the world."
+
+Then the oak's lowest branch died, and he began to be seriously
+alarmed.
+
+"You are pretty things," he said, "if this is the way you reward me
+for my hospitality. When you were little I let you grow at my feet,
+and sheltered you against the storm. I let the sun shine on you as
+much as ever he would, and I treated you as if you were my own
+children. And in return for all this you stifle me."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" said the beeches. So they put forth flowers and
+fruit, and when the fruit was ripe the wind shook the boughs and
+scattered it round far and wide.
+
+"You are quick people like me," said the wind. "I like you for it, and
+am glad to do you a good turn."
+
+And the fox rolled on the ground at the foot of the beech trees and
+got his fur full of the prickly fruits, and ran with them far out into
+the country. The bear did the same, and grinned into the bargain at
+the old oak while he lay and rested in the shadow of the beeches. The
+field-mouse was beside himself with joy over his new food, and thought
+that beech nuts tasted much nicer than acorns. All around new little
+beech trees shot up, which grew just as fast as their parents, and
+looked as green and as happy as if they did not know what an uneasy
+conscience was.
+
+But the old oak gazed sadly out over the wood. The light-green beech
+leaves were peeping out everywhere, and the oaks were sighing and
+bewailing their distress to one another.
+
+"They are taking our strength out of us," they said, and shook as much
+as the beeches around would let them. "The land is ours no longer."
+
+One bough died after another, and the storm broke them off and cast
+them on the ground. The old oak had now only a few leaves left at the
+very top.
+
+"The end is near," he said gravely.
+
+By this time there were many more human beings in the land than there
+were before, and they made haste to hew down the oaks while there were
+still some remaining.
+
+"Oak timber is better than beech timber," they said.
+
+"At last we get a little appreciation," said the old oak, "but we have
+to pay for it with our lives."
+
+Then he said to the beech trees,--
+
+"What was I thinking of when I helped you on in your young days? What
+an old stupid I was! Before that, we oak trees were lords in the land;
+and now every year I see my brothers around me perishing in the fight
+against you. It will soon be all over with me, and not one of my
+acorns has sprouted under your shade. But before I die I should like
+to know the name you give to such conduct."
+
+"That will not take long to say, old friend," answered the beeches.
+"We call it _competition_, and that is not any discovery of our own.
+It is competition which rules the world."
+
+"I do not know these foreign words of yours," said the oak. "I call it
+mean ingratitude." And then he died.
+
+
+
+
+The Dragon-Fly and the Water-lily
+
+[Illustration: The Dragon-Fly: and the Water-lily:]
+
+
+In among the green bushes and trees ran the brook. Tall,
+straight-growing rushes stood along its banks, and whispered to the
+wind. Out in the middle of the water floated the water-lily, with its
+white flower and its broad green leaves.
+
+Generally it was quite calm on the brook. But when, now and again, it
+chanced that the wind took a little turn over it, there was a rustle
+in the rushes, and the water-lily sometimes ducked completely under
+the waves. Then its leaves were lifted up in the air and stood on
+their edges, so that the thick green stalks that came up from the very
+bottom of the stream found that it was all they could do to hold
+fast.
+
+All day long the larva of the dragon-fly was crawling up and down the
+water-lily's stalk.
+
+"Dear me, how stupid it must be to be a water-lily!" it said, and
+peeped up at the flower.
+
+"You chatter as a person of your small mind might be expected to do,"
+answered the water-lily. "It is just the very nicest thing there is."
+
+"I don't understand that," said the larva. "I should like at this
+moment to tear myself away, and fly about in the air like the big,
+beautiful dragon-flies."
+
+"Pooh!" said the water-lily. "That would be a funny kind of pleasure.
+No; to lie still on the water and dream, to bask in the sun, and now
+and then to be rocked up and down by the waves--there's some sense in
+_that_!"
+
+The larva sat thinking for a minute or two.
+
+"I have a longing for something greater," it said at last. "If I had
+my will, I would be a dragon-fly. I would fly on strong, stiff wings
+along the stream, kiss your white flower, rest a moment on your
+leaves, and then fly on."
+
+"You are ambitious," answered the water-lily, "and that is stupid of
+you. One knows what one has, but one does not know what one may get.
+May I, by the way, make so bold as to ask you how you would set about
+becoming a dragon-fly? You don't look as if that was what you were
+born for. In any case you will have to grow a little prettier, you
+gray, ugly thing."
+
+"Yes, that is the worst part of it," the larva answered sadly. "I
+don't know myself how it will come about, but I hope it _will_ come
+about some time or other. That is why I crawl about down here and eat
+all the little creatures I can get hold of."
+
+"Then you think you can attain to something great _by feeding_!" the
+water-lily said, with a laugh. "That would be a funny way of getting
+up in the world."
+
+"Yes; but I believe it is the right way for me!" cried the dragon-fly
+grub earnestly.
+
+"All day long I go on eating till I get fat and big; and one fine day,
+as I think, all my fat will turn into wings with gold on them, and
+everything else that belongs to a proper dragon-fly!"
+
+The water-lily shook its clever white head.
+
+"Put away your silly thoughts," it said, "and be content with your
+lot. You can knock about undisturbed down here among my leaves, and
+crawl up and down the stalk to your heart's desire. You have
+everything that you need, and no cares or worries--what more do you
+want?"
+
+"You are of a low nature," answered the larva, "and therefore you have
+no sense of higher things. In spite of what you say, I wish to become
+a dragon-fly." And then it crawled right down to the bottom of the
+water to catch more creatures and stuff itself still bigger.
+
+But the water-lily lay quietly on the water and thought things over.
+
+"I can't understand these animals," it said to itself. "They knock
+about from morning till night, chase one another and eat one another,
+and are never at peace. We flowers have more sense. Peacefully and
+quietly we grow up side by side, bask in the sunshine, and drink the
+rain, and take everything as it comes. And I am the luckiest of them
+all. Many a time have I been floating happily out here on the water,
+while the other flowers there on dry land were tormented with drought.
+The flowers' lot is the best; but naturally the stupid animals can't
+see it."
+
+When the sun went down the dragon-fly larva was sitting on the stalk,
+saying nothing, with its legs drawn up under it. It had eaten ever so
+many little creatures, and was so big that it had a feeling as if it
+would burst. But all the same it was not altogether happy. It was
+speculating on what the water-lily had said, and it could hardly get
+to sleep the whole night long on account of its unquiet thoughts. All
+this speculating gave it a headache, for it was work which it was not
+used to. It had a back-ache too, and a stomach-ache. It felt just as
+though it was going to break in pieces, and die on the spot.
+
+When the sky began to grow gray in the early morning it could hold out
+no longer.
+
+"I can't make it out," it said in despair. "I am tormented and
+worried, and I don't know what will be the end of it. Perhaps the
+water-lily is right, and I shall never be anything else but a poor,
+miserable larva. But that is a fearful thing to think of. I did so
+long to become a dragon-fly and fly about in the sun. Oh, my back! my
+back! I do believe I am dying!"
+
+It had a feeling as if its back was splitting, and it shrieked with
+pain. At that moment there was a rustle among the rushes on the bank
+of the stream.
+
+"That's the morning breeze," thought the larva; "I shall at least see
+the sun when I die." And with great trouble it crawled up one of the
+leaves of the water-lily, stretched out its legs, and made ready to
+die.
+
+But when the sun rose, like a red ball, in the east, suddenly it felt
+a hole in the middle of its back. It had a creepy, tickling feeling,
+and then a feeling of tightness and oppression. Oh, it was torture
+without end!
+
+Being bewildered, it closed its eyes; but it still felt as though it
+were being squeezed and crushed. At last it suddenly noticed that it
+was free; and when it opened its eyes it was floating through the air
+on stiff, shining wings, a beautiful dragon-fly. Down on the leaf of
+the water-lily lay its ugly gray larva case.
+
+"Hurrah!" cried the new dragon-fly. "So I have got my darling wish
+fulfilled!" and it started off at once through the air at such a rate
+that you would think it had to fly to the ends of the earth.
+
+"The creature has got its desire at any rate," thought the water-lily.
+"Let us see if it will be any the happier for it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Two days later the dragon-fly came flying back, and seated itself on
+the flower of the water-lily.
+
+"Oh, good-morning," said the water-lily. "Do I see you once more? I
+thought you had grown too fine to greet your old friends."
+
+"Good-day," said the dragon-fly. "Where shall I lay my eggs?"
+
+"Oh, you are sure to find some place," answered the flower. "Sit down
+for a bit, and tell me if you are any happier now than when you were
+crawling up and down my stalk, a little ugly larva."
+
+"Where shall I lay my eggs? Where shall I lay my eggs?" screamed the
+dragon-fly, and flew humming around from place to place, laid one here
+and one there, and finally seated itself, tired and weary, on one of
+the leaves.
+
+"Well?" said the water-lily.
+
+"Oh, it was better in the old days--much better," sighed the
+dragon-fly. "The sunshine is really delightful, and it is a real
+pleasure to fly over the water; but I have no time to enjoy it. I have
+been so terribly busy, I tell you. In the old days I had nothing to
+think about; now I have to fly about all day long to get my silly eggs
+disposed of. I haven't a moment free. I have scarcely time to eat."
+
+"Didn't I tell you so?" cried the water-lily in triumph. "Didn't I
+prophesy that your happiness would be hollow?"
+
+"Good-bye," sighed the dragon-fly. "I have not time to listen to your
+disagreeable remarks. I must lay some more eggs."
+
+But just as it was about to fly off the starling came.
+
+"What a pretty little dragon-fly!" it said; "it will be a delightful
+tit-bit for my little ones."
+
+Snap! it killed the dragon-fly with its bill, and flew off with it.
+
+"What a shocking thing!" cried the water-lily, as its leaves shook
+with terror. "Those animals! those animals! They are funny creatures.
+I do indeed value my quiet, peaceful life. I harm nobody, and nobody
+wants to pick a quarrel with me. I am very luck--"
+
+It did not finish what it was saying, for at that instant a boat came
+gliding close by.
+
+"What a pretty little water-lily!" cried Ellen, who sat in the boat.
+"I will have it!"
+
+She leant over the gunwale and wrenched off the flower. When she had
+got home she put it in a glass of water, and there it stood for three
+days among a whole company of other flowers.
+
+"I can't make it out," it said on the morning of the fourth day. "I
+have not come off a bit better than that miserable dragon-fly."
+
+"The flowers are now withered," said Ellen, and she threw them out of
+the window.
+
+So there lay the water-lily with its fine white petals on the dirty
+ground.
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAGONFLY AND THE WATERLILY]
+
+
+
+
+The Weeds
+
+[Illustration: The Weeds]
+
+
+It was a beautiful, fruitful season. Rain and sunshine came by turns
+just as it was best for the corn. As soon as ever the farmer began to
+think that things were rather dry, you might depend upon it that next
+day it would rain. And when he thought that he had had rain enough,
+the clouds broke at once, just as if they were under his command.
+
+So the farmer was in a good humour, and he did not grumble as he
+usually does. He looked pleased and cheerful as he walked over the
+field with his two boys.
+
+"It will be a splendid harvest this year," he said. "I shall have my
+barns full, and shall make a pretty penny. And then Jack and Will
+shall have some new trousers, and I'll let them come with me to
+market."
+
+"If you don't cut me soon, farmer, I shall sprawl on the ground," said
+the rye, and she bowed her heavy ear quite down towards the earth.
+
+The farmer could not hear her talking, but he could see what was in
+her mind, and so he went home to fetch his scythe.
+
+"It is a good thing to be in the service of man," said the rye. "I can
+be quite sure that all my grain will be well cared for. Most of it
+will go to the mill: not that that proceeding is so very enjoyable,
+but in that way it will be made into beautiful new bread, and one must
+put up with something for the sake of honour. The rest the farmer will
+save, and sow next year in his field."
+
+At the side of the field, along the hedge, and the bank above the
+ditch, stood the weeds. There were dense clumps of them--thistle and
+burdock, poppy and harebell, and dandelion; and all their heads were
+full of seed. It had been a fruitful year for them also, for the sun
+shines and the rain falls just as much on the poor weed as on the rich
+corn.
+
+"No one comes and mows _us_ down and carries us to a barn," said the
+dandelion, and he shook his head, but very cautiously, so that the
+seeds should not fall before their time. "But what will become of all
+our children?"
+
+"It gives me a headache to think about it," said the poppy. "Here I
+stand with hundreds and hundreds of seeds in my head, and I haven't
+the faintest idea where I shall drop them."
+
+"Let us ask the rye to advise us," answered the burdock.
+
+And so they asked the rye what they should do.
+
+"When one is well off, one had better not meddle with other people's
+business," answered the rye. "I will only give you one piece of
+advice: take care you don't throw your stupid seed on to the field,
+for then you will have to settle accounts with _me_."
+
+This advice did not help the wild flowers at all, and the whole day
+they stood pondering what they should do. When the sun set they shut
+up their petals and went to sleep; but the whole night through they
+were dreaming about their seed, and next morning they had found a
+plan.
+
+The poppy was the first to wake. She cautiously opened some little
+trap-doors at the top of her head, so that the sun could shine right
+in on the seeds. Then she called to the morning breeze, who was
+running and playing along the hedge.
+
+"Little breeze," she said, in friendly tones, "will you do me a
+service?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said the breeze. "I shall be glad to have something to
+do."
+
+"It is the merest trifle," said the poppy. "All I want of you is to
+give a good shake to my stalk, so that my seeds may fly out of the
+trap-doors."
+
+"All right," said the breeze.
+
+And the seeds flew out in all directions. The stalk snapped, it is
+true; but the poppy did not mind about that, for when one has
+provided for one's children, one has really nothing more to do in the
+world.
+
+[Illustration: THE FARMER AND HIS BOYS]
+
+"Good-bye," said the breeze, and would have run on farther.
+
+"Wait a moment," said the poppy. "Promise me first that you will not
+tell the others, else they might get hold of the same idea, and then
+there would be less room for my seeds."
+
+"I am mute as the grave," answered the breeze, running off.
+
+"Ho! ho!" said the harebell. "Haven't you time to do me a little, tiny
+service?"
+
+"Well," said the breeze, "what is it?"
+
+"I merely wanted to ask you to give me a little shake," said the
+harebell. "I have opened some trap-doors in my head, and I should like
+to have my seed sent a good way off into the world. But you mustn't
+tell the others, or else they might think of doing the same thing."
+
+"Oh! of course not," said the breeze, laughing. "I shall be as dumb as
+a stone wall." And then she gave the flower a good shake and went on
+her way.
+
+"Little breeze, little breeze," called the dandelion, "whither away so
+fast?"
+
+"Is there anything the matter with you too?" asked the breeze.
+
+"Nothing at all," answered the dandelion. "Only I should like a few
+words with you."
+
+"Be quick then," said the breeze, "for I am thinking seriously of
+lying down and having a rest."
+
+"You cannot help seeing," said the dandelion, "what a fix we are in
+this year to get all our seeds put out in the world; for, of course,
+one wishes to do what one can for one's children. What is to happen to
+the harebell and the poppy and the poor burdock I really don't know.
+But the thistle and I have put our heads together, and we have hit on
+a plan. Only we must have you to help us."
+
+"That makes _four_ of them," thought the breeze, and could not help
+laughing out loud.
+
+"What are you laughing at?" asked the dandelion. "I saw you whispering
+just now to the harebell and poppy; but if you breathe a word to them,
+I won't tell you anything."
+
+"Why, of course not," said the breeze. "I am mute as a fish. What is
+it you want?"
+
+"We have set up a pretty little umbrella on the top of our seeds. It
+is the sweetest little plaything imaginable. If you will only blow a
+little on me, the seeds will fly into the air and fall down wherever
+you please. Will you do so?"
+
+"Certainly," said the breeze.
+
+And ush! it went over the thistle and the dandelion and carried all
+the seeds with it into the cornfield.
+
+The burdock still stood and pondered. Its head was rather thick, and
+that was why it waited so long. But in the evening a hare leapt over
+the hedge.
+
+"Hide me! Save me!" he cried. "The farmer's dog Trusty is after me."
+
+"You can creep behind the hedge," said the burdock, "then I will hide
+you."
+
+"You don't look to me much good for that job," said the hare, "but in
+time of need one must help oneself as one can." And so he got in
+safety behind the hedge.
+
+"Now you may repay me by taking some of my seeds with you over into
+the cornfield," said the burdock; and it broke off some of its many
+heads and fixed them on the hare.
+
+A little later Trusty came trotting up to the hedge.
+
+"Here's the dog," whispered the burdock, and with one spring the hare
+leapt over the hedge and into the rye.
+
+"Haven't you seen the hare, burdock?" asked Trusty. "I see I have got
+too old to go hunting. I am quite blind in one eye, and I have
+completely lost my scent."
+
+"Yes, I have seen him," answered the burdock; "and if you will do me a
+service, I will show you where he is."
+
+Trusty agreed, and the burdock fastened some heads on his back, and
+said to him,--
+
+"If you will only rub yourself against the stile there in the
+cornfield, my seeds will fall off. But you must not look for the hare
+there, for a little while ago I saw him run into the wood."
+
+Trusty dropped the burs on the field and trotted to the wood.
+
+"Well, I've got _my_ seeds put out in the world all right," said the
+burdock, and laughed as if much pleased with itself; "but it is
+impossible to say what will become of the thistle and the dandelion,
+and the harebell and the poppy."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Spring had come round once more, and the rye stood high already.
+
+"We are pretty well off on the whole," said the rye plants. "Here we
+stand in a great company, and not one of us but belongs to our own
+noble family. And we don't get in each other's way in the very least.
+It is a grand thing to be in the service of man."
+
+But one fine day a crowd of little poppies, and thistles and
+dandelions, and burdocks and harebells poked up their heads above
+ground, all amongst the flourishing rye.
+
+"What does _this_ mean?" asked the rye. "Where in the world are _you_
+sprung from?"
+
+And the poppy looked at the harebell and asked, "Where do _you_ come
+from?"
+
+And the thistle looked at the burdock and asked, "Where in the world
+have _you_ come from?"
+
+They were all equally astonished, and it was an hour before they had
+explained. But the rye was the angriest, and when she had heard all
+about Trusty and the hare and the breeze she grew quite wild.
+
+"Thank heaven, the farmer shot the hare last autumn," she said; "and
+Trusty, fortunately, is also dead, the old scamp. So I am at peace, as
+far as _they_ are concerned. But how dare the breeze promise to drop
+the seeds of the weeds in the farmer's cornfield?"
+
+"Don't be in such a passion, you green rye," said the breeze, who had
+been lying behind the hedge and hearing everything. "I ask no one's
+permission, but do as I like; and now I'm going to make you bow to
+me."
+
+Then she passed over the young rye, and the thin blades swayed
+backwards and forwards.
+
+"You see," she said, "the farmer attends to his rye, because that is
+_his_ business. But the rain and the sun and I--we attend to all of
+you without respect of persons. To our eyes the poor weed is just as
+pretty as the rich corn."
+
+The farmer now came out to look at his rye, and when he saw the weeds
+in the cornfield he scratched his head with vexation and began to
+growl.
+
+"It's that scurvy wind that's done this," he said to Jack and Will, as
+they stood by his side with their hands in the pockets of their new
+trousers.
+
+But the breeze flew towards them and knocked all their caps off their
+heads, and rolled them far away to the road. The farmer and the two
+boys ran after them, but the wind ran faster than they did.
+
+It finished up by rolling the caps into the village pond, and the
+farmer and the boys had to stand a long time fishing for them before
+they got them out.
+
+[Illustration: PREPARING for FLIGHT]
+
+
+
+
+The Sparrow
+
+[Illustration: THE SPARROW]
+
+
+The swallow was in a bad temper. He sat on the roof close by the
+starlings' box and drooped his bill.
+
+"There is not a fly left to chase," he whined piteously. "They are all
+gone, and I am _so_ hungry--_so_ hungry!"
+
+"This morning I could not get a single worm," said the starling, and
+shook his head wisely.
+
+The stork came strutting along, and stood on one leg in the ploughed
+field just outside the garden, and looked most melancholy.
+
+"I suppose none of you have seen a frog?" he asked. "There isn't one
+down in the marsh, and I have not had any breakfast to-day."
+
+Then the thrush flew up and perched on the roof of the starlings' box.
+
+"How crestfallen you all are," he said. "What is the matter with you?"
+
+"Ah," answered the starling, "there's nothing else the matter, only
+the leaves are beginning to fall off the trees, and the butterflies
+and flies and worms are all eaten up."
+
+"Yes, that is bad for you," said the thrush.
+
+"Well, isn't it just as bad for you, you conceited creature?" said the
+swallow.
+
+But the thrush piped gaily and shook his head.
+
+"Not quite," he said. "I have always the fir trees, which don't lose
+their leaves; and I can live very many weeks yet on all the delicious
+berries in the wood."
+
+"Let us stop squabbling," said the stork. "We had better consider
+together what we are to do."
+
+"We can soon agree about that," answered the starling, "for we have no
+choice. We must _travel_. All my little ones can fly quite well now;
+we have been drilling every morning down in the meadow. I have already
+warned them that we shall be starting off one of these days."
+
+The other birds thought this very sensible--all except the thrush, who
+thought there was no hurry. So they agreed to collect next day down in
+the meadow, and hold a grand review of the party that was to travel.
+
+They flew off, each to his own quarters; but up under the roof sat the
+sparrow, who had heard all they had been saying.
+
+"Ah, if only I could travel with them!" he said to himself. "I should
+so like to see foreign lands. My neighbour the swallow has told me how
+delightful it is. Such a lot of flies and cherries and corn, and it's
+so delightfully warm. But no one asks _me_ to fly with him. I am only
+a poor sparrow, and the others are birds of wealth and position."
+
+He sat thinking it all over for a long time, and the more he thought
+the sadder he became. When the swallow came home in the evening, the
+sparrow asked if he could not get him leave to travel with them.
+
+"You? You want to go with us?" asked the swallow, laughing at him
+scornfully. "You would soon be sick of it. It means flying, flying
+over land and sea, over hill and dale. Many and many a mile we fly in
+one journey without a rest. How do you imagine your short wings are
+going to support you so long as that?"
+
+"Oh, but I should so like to go with you," the sparrow pleaded.
+"Couldn't you get leave for me to fly with the rest? I have such a
+longing for it. I _must_ go with you."
+
+"I believe you are mad," said the swallow. "You forget who you are."
+
+"Oh no," said the sparrow.
+
+But the swallow took it upon him to instruct him about his position in
+society.
+
+"Don't you see," he said, "the rich merchant who lived here in the
+country during the summer has now moved into town, and the baron who
+lives on Tower Island has done the same? The painter who was staying
+out here is also by this time in Copenhagen; and they won't come out
+here again till next spring. We birds of high station act in the same
+way. As soon as ever we smell winter, we make our way to lands where
+life is more enjoyable--to the warm south. But you poor wretches must
+of course stay at home and suffer. That is how things are arranged in
+this world. It is just the same with day labourers, and cottagers, and
+other poor folks."
+
+The sparrow said nothing to this long speech; but when the swallow
+dropped asleep in his nest, _he_ lay awake and wept over his hard
+fate. He had still not quite given up hope of going with them all the
+same.
+
+Next day the birds came flying from all directions, and settled down
+in the meadow. There were starlings and storks and swallows, besides
+many little singing-birds. But neither the cuckoo nor the nightingale
+was there, for they had left long ago. "Fall in!" commanded an old
+stork. He had been ten times in Egypt, and was therefore reckoned the
+wisest of them all.
+
+All the birds lined up, and then the oldest and most experienced went
+round and saw if they had their travelling equipment in order. All
+those who had their wings rumpled, or had lost some of their
+tail-feathers, or did not look strong and well, were dismissed or
+chased away. If they did not obey commands at once, they were beaten
+to death without mercy.
+
+You may be sure there was a great disturbance when they discovered the
+sparrow, who had flown up without being noticed, and had planted
+himself in the ranks with the others.
+
+"A creature like that!" the starling called out. "_He_ wants to go
+too!"
+
+"Such a pair of wings!" said the swallow. "He thinks that with them he
+can fly to Italy!"
+
+And all the birds of passage began to scream at once and laugh at the
+poor sparrow, who sat quite terrified in the midst of them.
+
+"I know quite well," he said humbly, "that I am only a poor little
+sparrow. But I should so like to see the warm, pleasant lands you are
+going to. Try to take me with you. I will use my wings as well as
+ever I can. I implore you to let me come!"
+
+"He has some cheek, hasn't he?" said the old stork. "But he shall be
+allowed to keep his miserable life. Chase him away at once, and then
+let us be off!"
+
+So the birds chased the sparrow away, and he hid his miserable self
+under the eaves.
+
+When the review was over, the birds of passage began to make off.
+Company after company, they flew away through the air, whilst the
+sparrow peered out from under the eaves and gazed sadly after them.
+
+"Now they have all gone," he said. "No one but me is left behind."
+
+"Me too!" screamed the crow.
+
+"And me," said the chaffinch.
+
+"And me too, if you please," peeped the tomtit.
+
+"Yes," said the sparrow, "that is how it is. It is just as the swallow
+says--all we _poor_ birds must stay here and suffer."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The winter had come. Over all the fields lay the snow, and there was
+ice on the water. All the leaves lay dead and shrivelled on the
+ground; and there were no flowers, except here and there a poor frozen
+daisy, which stood gleaming white among the yellow grass.
+
+And the flies and the gnats, and the butterflies and the cockchafers
+were dead. The snake lay torpid, and so did the lizard. The frog had
+gone into his winter quarters at the bottom of the pond, sitting deep
+in the mud, with only his nose sticking up into the air. And that was
+how he intended to sit the whole winter through.
+
+The birds who had remained behind had not, after all, such a very bad
+time of it. The crows held great gatherings every evening in the wood,
+and screamed and chattered so loudly one could hear them ever so far
+away. The chaffinch and the tomtit hopped about cheerfully enough in
+the bushes, and picked up what they could find. The sparrow alone was
+always out of sorts. He sat on the ridge of the roof and hunched
+himself up, but the whole time he was thinking about the birds of
+passage.
+
+"They are there by this time," he said to himself. "Here we have ice
+and snow; but down south, in the pleasant, warm countries, they have
+endless summer. Here I have a job to find even some dry bread; but
+_there_ they have more than they can manage to eat. Ah, if one only
+had gone with them!"
+
+"Come down and join us," called the chaffinch and the tomtit.
+
+But the sparrow shook his head, and remained sitting on the ridge of
+the roof.
+
+"I am consumed with longing, I can't endure it!" he screamed, and he
+took a long flight to cool his blood.
+
+But it was of no use. Wherever he came, it seemed to him that
+everything was so wretched and bare.
+
+Out in the field the lark was flying up to the sky and singing its
+trills.
+
+"Good-morning, sparrow," it twittered. "I am glad to see that you have
+not gone away. I am also staying on, as long as I can stand it. It is
+so delightful at home here, even in winter. Only see how the trees
+have decked themselves out with hoarfrost, how the ice glistens, and
+how gleaming white the snow is!"
+
+"It is miserable," said the sparrow. "Poverty and want everywhere."
+
+But the lark did not hear a word of what he said; he flew on his way,
+singing joyously.
+
+"Craw!" screamed the black jackdaws. "The winter is not so bad after
+all." And then they walked proudly round the field and looked about on
+all sides, for they knew that they cut a fine figure against the white
+snow.
+
+"The winter is really quite peaceful," said the field-mouse, as he
+stuck his nose out of his hole. "If only it doesn't stay too long, the
+food will last. I filled my pantry well last summer, and as long as
+one has food one can always keep warm."
+
+The sparrow heard it all, but it did not do him a bit of good.
+
+"They seem to be contented enough with their lot," he said to himself,
+"and I suppose it is all right for them. But this miserable life of
+mine does not satisfy _me_!"
+
+So he flew home in the sulks, and settled himself again on the ridge
+of the roof.
+
+"Oh, I know what I will do," he cried suddenly. "I will creep into the
+swallow's nest and sleep there to-night, then I can dream that I am a
+swallow."
+
+And he did so, and dreamt all night that he was flying over hill and
+dale, over land and sea, all the way to Italy. He thought he was so
+light, so free, and his wings carried him as straight as an arrow
+through the air. It was the most delightful dream he had ever had.
+
+After this he crept every evening into the swallow's nest, and lay
+there till ever so late in the morning. When he came out, he sat
+crunched up on the ridge of the roof or in the bare lime tree. If the
+gardener's wife had not thrown out some crumbs to him now and then, he
+would certainly have starved to death. For he didn't care a rap about
+anything; he merely longed for the evening to come, so that he could
+dream again. Every evening he dreamt the same thing, but he never
+grew tired of it.
+
+"This is nearly as good as actually going with them," he thought. "If
+only I could dream in the daytime in the same way."
+
+But in time his head got quite muddled, and he paid no attention to
+anything.
+
+Little by little the winter was slipping away, and now it was gone
+altogether. The days grew longer, and there was more warmth in the
+sunshine.
+
+"What! are you still here?" said the sun. And he stared so hard at the
+snow that at last it grew quite bashful, and melted away and sank into
+the earth.
+
+"Wait a moment," said the cloud to the sun; "we must have a thorough
+cleaning before your turn comes."
+
+So it fell like a sousing rain on the earth, washing the leaves of the
+trees and bushes, and collecting into quite a little lake on the ice.
+
+"Now I am coming! now I am coming!" said the real lake, which lay
+below, under the ice.
+
+It heaved its breast, and with a great sigh the roof of ice burst,
+and all the little scales began hopping and dancing like boys who have
+escaped from school.
+
+Then the sun broke out from the cloud, and a thousand little green
+shoots peeped up from the earth.
+
+"Lend me your wings," said the winter to the storm; "I must be off."
+
+And away it flew to the cold lands right away in the north, where
+there is winter always.
+
+At last a message came from my Lady Spring that now they might expect
+her any day.
+
+The only person who saw nothing of what was going on was the sparrow.
+The whole day he lay there in the swallow's nest, only flying out for
+a quarter of an hour to take a little bit of food. He hadn't the least
+idea that it was now going to be summer again. He had grown quite
+silly, and imagined that he was the swallow.
+
+But one day the swallow came back.
+
+"Chee! chee!" he peeped; "is everything in order to receive us?"
+
+This is what he wished first of all to see about, and so he flew all
+day long over cornfield and meadow.
+
+"There are not many gnats here yet, but they may still come," he said
+in the evening when he came home.
+
+Then he peeped into the starlings' box to say "How-do" to his
+neighbours; but it chanced that at the moment there was no one at
+home, so he got ready to go to bed.
+
+But when he was going to creep into his nest he noticed there was
+somebody there already.
+
+"What's this?" he said. "Who has taken the liberty to borrow my nest?"
+
+"It is not yours," said the sparrow, who was lying there. "_I_ am the
+swallow, and I have just come home from Africa. You may take my word
+for it, it was delightful there. I have heaps of things to tell you."
+
+The swallow sat for a moment quite speechless. Then he screamed out in
+a furious passion,--
+
+"You may take my word for it, I shall have something to say to _you_,
+you wretched sparrow! I might have guessed it was you who had the
+impudence to steal my nest. I noticed you were a little cracked even
+last year. Now, look sharp and come out of that. _At once_, I say!"
+
+But it was no good the swallow's screaming and threatening. The
+sparrow was quite sure that he was in the right. He went on telling
+the swallow how he had just come home from Africa, and was so tired he
+really must have a quiet time to sleep.
+
+"I will have my revenge," said the swallow as he flew away.
+
+And there in the nest the sparrow lay asleep, dreaming of the warm,
+delightful land with all the gnats and flies and cherries.
+
+He was still lying fast asleep when, in the middle of the night, the
+swallow came back. He had filled his broad bill with mud, and quite
+quietly began to wall up the hole into the nest. To and fro he flew
+the whole night long, and by the time the sun rose the hole was quite
+closed up.
+
+"Now he's happy," thought the swallow, as he began to build himself a
+new nest.
+
+Three days later the swallow and the starling met in the meadow. They
+said, "How do you do?" and told each other all they had gone through
+since they last saw one another.
+
+"The most remarkable thing comes last," said the swallow. "Just fancy!
+When I came home I found the sparrow had taken my nest, and I could
+not get him to come out."
+
+"Well, I never!" cried the starling. "What on earth did you do to
+him?"
+
+"Come and see," answered the swallow.
+
+They both flew off to the nest, and the swallow told him how he had
+taken his revenge. Then they pecked a hole with their bills, and out
+fell the poor sparrow to the ground quite dead.
+
+"It serves him right," said the swallow.
+
+And the starling nodded, for he thought so too.
+
+But the chaffinch and the tomtit stood below on the ground and gazed
+at the dead bird.
+
+"Poor sparrow!" said the chaffinch. "I am sorry for him."
+
+"He couldn't expect a better fate," said the tomtit. "He was
+ambitious; and that is what one has no right to be when one is only a
+sparrow."
+
+[Illustration: THE END]
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40553 ***