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diff --git a/old/hpaot10h.htm b/old/hpaot10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f86d41e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/hpaot10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1904 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Happy Prince and Other Tales</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">The Happy Prince and Other Tales, by Oscar Wilde</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Happy Prince and Other Tales, by Oscar Wilde +(#12 in our series by Oscar Wilde) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Happy Prince and Other Tales + +Author: Oscar Wilde + +Release Date: May, 1997 [EBook #902] +[This file was first posted on May 6, 1997] +[Most recently updated: May 12, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1910 edition by David Price, email +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk. Second proof by Paul Redmond.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h1>THE HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES</h1> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>Contents</p> +<p>The Happy Prince<br />The Nightingale and the Rose<br />The Selfish +Giant<br />The Devoted Friend<br />The Remarkable Rocket</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE HAPPY PRINCE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy +Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, +for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on +his sword-hilt.</p> +<p>He was very much admired indeed. “He is as beautiful +as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished +to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; “only not quite +so useful,” he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, +which he really was not.</p> +<p>“Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked +a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. +“The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.”</p> +<p>“I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,” +muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.</p> +<p>“He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children +as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and +their clean white pinafores.</p> +<p>“How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you +have never seen one.”</p> +<p>“Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; +and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did +not approve of children dreaming.</p> +<p>One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends +had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for +he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early +in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, +and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to +talk to her.</p> +<p>“Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come +to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew +round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver +ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the +summer.</p> +<p>“It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other +Swallows; “she has no money, and far too many relations”; +and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn +came they all flew away.</p> +<p>After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love. +“She has no conversation,” he said, “and I am afraid +that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.” +And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful +curtseys. “I admit that she is domestic,” he continued, +“but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love +travelling also.”</p> +<p>“Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; +but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.</p> +<p>“You have been trifling with me,” he cried. “I +am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!” and he flew away.</p> +<p>All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city. +“Where shall I put up?” he said; “I hope the town +has made preparations.”</p> +<p>Then he saw the statue on the tall column.</p> +<p>“I will put up there,” he cried; “it is a fine +position, with plenty of fresh air.” So he alighted just +between the feet of the Happy Prince.</p> +<p>“I have a golden bedroom,” he said softly to himself +as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was +putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. +“What a curious thing!” he cried; “there is not a +single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet +it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. +The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.”</p> +<p>Then another drop fell.</p> +<p>“What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?” +he said; “I must look for a good chimney-pot,” and he determined +to fly away.</p> +<p>But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked +up, and saw—Ah! what did he see?</p> +<p>The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were +running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the +moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.</p> +<p>“Who are you?” he said.</p> +<p>“I am the Happy Prince.”</p> +<p>“Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; “you +have quite drenched me.”</p> +<p>“When I was alive and had a human heart,” answered the +statue, “I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace +of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime +I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led +the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty +wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about +me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, +and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, +and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here +so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, +and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot chose but weep.”</p> +<p>“What! is he not solid gold?” said the Swallow to himself. +He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.</p> +<p>“Far away,” continued the statue in a low musical voice, +“far away in a little street there is a poor house. One +of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a +table. Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, +all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering +passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen’s +maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the +corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, +and is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him +but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, +will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet +are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.”</p> +<p>“I am waited for in Egypt,” said the Swallow. “My +friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers. +Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The +King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in +yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain +of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves.”</p> +<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, +“will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? +The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think I like boys,” answered the Swallow. +“Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two +rude boys, the miller’s sons, who were always throwing stones +at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well +for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but +still, it was a mark of disrespect.”</p> +<p>But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry. +“It is very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay +with you for one night, and be your messenger.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, little Swallow,” said the Prince.</p> +<p>So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince’s +sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.</p> +<p>He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were +sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. +A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. “How +wonderful the stars are,” he said to her, “and how wonderful +is the power of love!”</p> +<p>“I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball,” +she answered; “I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered +on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy.”</p> +<p>He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts +of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews +bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. +At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing +feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so +tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside +the woman’s thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, +fanning the boy’s forehead with his wings. “How cool +I feel,” said the boy, “I must be getting better”; +and he sank into a delicious slumber.</p> +<p>Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what +he had done. “It is curious,” he remarked, “but +I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.”</p> +<p>“That is because you have done a good action,” said the +Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell +asleep. Thinking always made him sleepy.</p> +<p>When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. “What +a remarkable phenomenon,” said the Professor of Ornithology as +he was passing over the bridge. “A swallow in winter!” +And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every +one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand.</p> +<p>“To-night I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, and he was +in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, +and sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he +went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, “What a distinguished +stranger!” so he enjoyed himself very much.</p> +<p>When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. “Have +you any commissions for Egypt?” he cried; “I am just starting.”</p> +<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, +“will you not stay with me one night longer?”</p> +<p>“I am waited for in Egypt,” answered the Swallow. +“To-morrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. +The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite +throne sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, +and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then +he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the water’s +edge to drink. They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar +is louder than the roar of the cataract.</p> +<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, +“far away across the city I see a young man in a garret. +He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his +side there is a bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and +crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy +eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, +but he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the +grate, and hunger has made him faint.”</p> +<p>“I will wait with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, +who really had a good heart. “Shall I take him another ruby?”</p> +<p>“Alas! I have no ruby now,” said the Prince; “my +eyes are all that I have left. They are made of rare sapphires, +which were brought out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out +one of them and take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweller, +and buy food and firewood, and finish his play.”</p> +<p>“Dear Prince,” said the Swallow, “I cannot do that”; +and he began to weep.</p> +<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, +“do as I command you.”</p> +<p>So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye, and flew away +to the student’s garret. It was easy enough to get in, as +there was a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came +into the room. The young man had his head buried in his hands, +so he did not hear the flutter of the bird’s wings, and when he +looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.</p> +<p>“I am beginning to be appreciated,” he cried; “this +is from some great admirer. Now I can finish my play,” and +he looked quite happy.</p> +<p>The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on +the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests +out of the hold with ropes. “Heave a-hoy!” they shouted +as each chest came up. “I am going to Egypt”! cried +the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back +to the Happy Prince.</p> +<p>“I am come to bid you good-bye,” he cried.</p> +<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, +“will you not stay with me one night longer?”</p> +<p>“It is winter,” answered the Swallow, “and the +chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the +green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily +about them. My companions are building a nest in the Temple of +Baalbec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing +to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never +forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels +in place of those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder +than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.”</p> +<p>“In the square below,” said the Happy Prince, “there +stands a little match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the +gutter, and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if +she does not bring home some money, and she is crying. She has +no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out +my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her.”</p> +<p>“I will stay with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, +“but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind +then.”</p> +<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, +“do as I command you.”</p> +<p>So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, and darted down with +it. He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into +the palm of her hand. “What a lovely bit of glass,” +cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.</p> +<p>Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. “You are blind +now,” he said, “so I will stay with you always.”</p> +<p>“No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, “you +must go away to Egypt.”</p> +<p>“I will stay with you always,” said the Swallow, and +he slept at the Prince’s feet.</p> +<p>All the next day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder, and told +him stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him +of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, +and catch gold-fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as +the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of +the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry +amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, +who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great +green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed +it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on +large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.</p> +<p>“Dear little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you tell +me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering +of men and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. +Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there.”</p> +<p>So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making +merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the +gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving +children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the +archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another’s +arms to try and keep themselves warm. “How hungry we are!” +they said. “You must not lie here,” shouted the Watchman, +and they wandered out into the rain.</p> +<p>Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.</p> +<p>“I am covered with fine gold,” said the Prince, “you +must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always +think that gold can make them happy.”</p> +<p>Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the +Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the +fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children’s faces grew +rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. “We +have bread now!” they cried.</p> +<p>Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The +streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and +glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves +of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore +scarlet caps and skated on the ice.</p> +<p>The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not +leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside +the baker’s door when the baker was not looking and tried to keep +himself warm by flapping his wings.</p> +<p>But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength +to fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more. “Good-bye, +dear Prince!” he murmured, “will you let me kiss your hand?”</p> +<p>“I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,” +said the Prince, “you have stayed too long here; but you must +kiss me on the lips, for I love you.”</p> +<p>“It is not to Egypt that I am going,” said the Swallow. +“I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother +of Sleep, is he not?”</p> +<p>And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at +his feet.</p> +<p>At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something +had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right +in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.</p> +<p>Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below +in company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column +he looked up at the statue: “Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince +looks!” he said.</p> +<p>“How shabby indeed!” cried the Town Councillors, who +always agreed with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.</p> +<p>“The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and +he is golden no longer,” said the Mayor in fact, “he is +litttle beter than a beggar!”</p> +<p>“Little better than a beggar,” said the Town Councillors.</p> +<p>“And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!” continued +the Mayor. “We must really issue a proclamation that birds +are not to be allowed to die here.” And the Town Clerk made +a note of the suggestion.</p> +<p>So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. “As +he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful,” said the Art +Professor at the University.</p> +<p>Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting +of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal. +“We must have another statue, of course,” he said, “and +it shall be a statue of myself.”</p> +<p>“Of myself,” said each of the Town Councillors, and they +quarrelled. When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.</p> +<p>“What a strange thing!” said the overseer of the workmen +at the foundry. “This broken lead heart will not melt in +the furnace. We must throw it away.” So they threw +it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.</p> +<p>“Bring me the two most precious things in the city,” +said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden +heart and the dead bird.</p> +<p>“You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for in my +garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in +my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>“She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red +roses,” cried the young Student; “but in all my garden there +is no red rose.”</p> +<p>From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and +she looked out through the leaves, and wondered.</p> +<p>“No red rose in all my garden!” he cried, and his beautiful +eyes filled with tears. “Ah, on what little things does +happiness depend! I have read all that the wise men have written, +and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose +is my life made wretched.”</p> +<p>“Here at last is a true lover,” said the Nightingale. +“Night after night have I sung of him, though I knew him not: +night after night have I told his story to the stars, and now I see +him. His hair is dark as the hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are +red as the rose of his desire; but passion has made his face like pale +ivory, and sorrow has set her seal upon his brow.”</p> +<p>“The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night,” murmured the +young Student, “and my love will be of the company. If I +bring her a red rose she will dance with me till dawn. If I bring +her a red rose, I shall hold her in my arms, and she will lean her head +upon my shoulder, and her hand will be clasped in mine. But there +is no red rose in my garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass +me by. She will have no heed of me, and my heart will break.”</p> +<p>“Here indeed is the true lover,” said the Nightingale. +“What I sing of, he suffers—what is joy to me, to him is +pain. Surely Love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious +than emeralds, and dearer than fine opals. Pearls and pomegranates +cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the marketplace. It may +not be purchased of the merchants, nor can it be weighed out in the +balance for gold.”</p> +<p>“The musicians will sit in their gallery,” said the young +Student, “and play upon their stringed instruments, and my love +will dance to the sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance +so lightly that her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers +in their gay dresses will throng round her. But with me she will +not dance, for I have no red rose to give her”; and he flung himself +down on the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.</p> +<p>“Why is he weeping?” asked a little Green Lizard, as +he ran past him with his tail in the air.</p> +<p>“Why, indeed?” said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about +after a sunbeam.</p> +<p>“Why, indeed?” whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in +a soft, low voice.</p> +<p>“He is weeping for a red rose,” said the Nightingale.</p> +<p>“For a red rose?” they cried; “how very ridiculous!” +and the little Lizard, who was something of a cynic, laughed outright.</p> +<p>But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student’s +sorrow, and she sat silent in the oak-tree, and thought about the mystery +of Love.</p> +<p>Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the +air. She passed through the grove like a shadow, and like a shadow +she sailed across the garden.</p> +<p>In the centre of the grass-plot was standing a beautiful Rose-tree, +and when she saw it she flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.</p> +<p>“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing +you my sweetest song.”</p> +<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p> +<p>“My roses are white,” it answered; “as white as +the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow upon the mountain. +But go to my brother who grows round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he +will give you what you want.”</p> +<p>So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round +the old sun-dial.</p> +<p>“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing +you my sweetest song.”</p> +<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p> +<p>“My roses are yellow,” it answered; “as yellow +as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an amber throne, and yellower +than the daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the mower comes with +his scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the Student’s +window, and perhaps he will give you what you want.”</p> +<p>So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing beneath +the Student’s window.</p> +<p>“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing +you my sweetest song.”</p> +<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p> +<p>“My roses are red,” it answered, “as red as the +feet of the dove, and redder than the great fans of coral that wave +and wave in the ocean-cavern. But the winter has chilled my veins, +and the frost has nipped my buds, and the storm has broken my branches, +and I shall have no roses at all this year.”</p> +<p>“One red rose is all I want,” cried the Nightingale, +“only one red rose! Is there no way by which I can get it?”</p> +<p>“There is away,” answered the Tree; “but it is +so terrible that I dare not tell it to you.”</p> +<p>“Tell it to me,” said the Nightingale, “I am not +afraid.”</p> +<p>“If you want a red rose,” said the Tree, “you must +build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your own heart’s-blood. +You must sing to me with your breast against a thorn. All night +long you must sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and +your life-blood must flow into my veins, and become mine.”</p> +<p>“Death is a great price to pay for a red rose,” cried +the Nightingale, “and Life is very dear to all. It is pleasant +to sit in the green wood, and to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, +and the Moon in her chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the +hawthorn, and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and the +heather that blows on the hill. Yet Love is better than Life, +and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?”</p> +<p>So she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. +She swept over the garden like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed +through the grove.</p> +<p>The young Student was still lying on the grass, where she had left +him, and the tears were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes.</p> +<p>“Be happy,” cried the Nightingale, “be happy; you +shall have your red rose. I will build it out of music by moonlight, +and stain it with my own heart’s-blood. All that I ask of +you in return is that you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser than +Philosophy, though she is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is +mighty. Flame-coloured are his wings, and coloured like flame +is his body. His lips are sweet as honey, and his breath is like +frankincense.”</p> +<p>The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, but he could +not understand what the Nightingale was saying to him, for he only knew +the things that are written down in books.</p> +<p>But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of +the little Nightingale who had built her nest in his branches.</p> +<p>“Sing me one last song,” he whispered; “I shall +feel very lonely when you are gone.”</p> +<p>So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice was like water +bubbling from a silver jar.</p> +<p>When she had finished her song the Student got up, and pulled a note-book +and a lead-pencil out of his pocket.</p> +<p>“She has form,” he said to himself, as he walked away +through the grove—“that cannot be denied to her; but has +she got feeling? I am afraid not. In fact, she is like most +artists; she is all style, without any sincerity. She would not +sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely of music, and +everybody knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must be admitted +that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity it +is that they do not mean anything, or do any practical good.” +And he went into his room, and lay down on his little pallet-bed, and +began to think of his love; and, after a time, he fell asleep.</p> +<p>And when the Moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the +Rose-tree, and set her breast against the thorn. All night long +she sang with her breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon +leaned down and listened. All night long she sang, and the thorn +went deeper and deeper into her breast, and her life-blood ebbed away +from her.</p> +<p>She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. +And on the top-most spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvellous +rose, petal following petal, as song followed song. Pale was it, +at first, as the mist that hangs over the river—pale as the feet +of the morning, and silver as the wings of the dawn. As the shadow +of a rose in a mirror of silver, as the shadow of a rose in a water-pool, +so was the rose that blossomed on the topmost spray of the Tree.</p> +<p>But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the +thorn. “Press closer, little Nightingale,” cried the +Tree, “or the Day will come before the rose is finished.”</p> +<p>So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and +louder grew her song, for she sang of the birth of passion in the soul +of a man and a maid.</p> +<p>And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like +the flush in the face of the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the +bride. But the thorn had not yet reached her heart, so the rose’s +heart remained white, for only a Nightingale’s heart’s-blood +can crimson the heart of a rose.</p> +<p>And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the +thorn. “Press closer, little Nightingale,” cried the +Tree, “or the Day will come before the rose is finished.”</p> +<p>So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the thorn +touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through her. +Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for +she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies +not in the tomb.</p> +<p>And the marvellous rose became crimson, like the rose of the eastern +sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was +the heart.</p> +<p>But the Nightingale’s voice grew fainter, and her little wings +began to beat, and a film came over her eyes. Fainter and fainter +grew her song, and she felt something choking her in her throat.</p> +<p>Then she gave one last burst of music. The white Moon heard +it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in the sky. The red +rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its +petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it to her purple cavern +in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams. +It floated through the reeds of the river, and they carried its message +to the sea.</p> +<p>“Look, look!” cried the Tree, “the rose is finished +now”; but the Nightingale made no answer, for she was lying dead +in the long grass, with the thorn in her heart.</p> +<p>And at noon the Student opened his window and looked out.</p> +<p>“Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!” he cried; “here +is a red rose! I have never seen any rose like it in all my life. +It is so beautiful that I am sure it has a long Latin name”; and +he leaned down and plucked it.</p> +<p>Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professor’s house +with the rose in his hand.</p> +<p>The daughter of the Professor was sitting in the doorway winding +blue silk on a reel, and her little dog was lying at her feet.</p> +<p>“You said that you would dance with me if I brought you a red +rose,” cried the Student. “Here is the reddest rose +in all the world. You will wear it to-night next your heart, and +as we dance together it will tell you how I love you.”</p> +<p>But the girl frowned.</p> +<p>“I am afraid it will not go with my dress,” she answered; +“and, besides, the Chamberlain’s nephew has sent me some +real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far more than flowers.”</p> +<p>“Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful,” said the +Student angrily; and he threw the rose into the street, where it fell +into the gutter, and a cart-wheel went over it.</p> +<p>“Ungrateful!” said the girl. “I tell you +what, you are very rude; and, after all, who are you? Only a Student. +Why, I don’t believe you have even got silver buckles to your +shoes as the Chamberlain’s nephew has”; and she got up from +her chair and went into the house.</p> +<p>“What I a silly thing Love is,” said the Student as he +walked away. “It is not half as useful as Logic, for it +does not prove anything, and it is always telling one of things that +are not going to happen, and making one believe things that are not +true. In fact, it is quite unpractical, and, as in this age to +be practical is everything, I shall go back to Philosophy and study +Metaphysics.”</p> +<p>So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and +began to read.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE SELFISH GIANT</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used +to go and play in the Giant’s garden.</p> +<p>It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and +there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were +twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms +of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds +sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop +their games in order to listen to them. “How happy we are +here!” they cried to each other.</p> +<p>One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend +the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After +the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his +conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. +When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.</p> +<p>“What are you doing here?” he cried in a very gruff voice, +and the children ran away.</p> +<p>“My own garden is my own garden,” said the Giant; “any +one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.” +So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>TRESPASSERS<br />WILL BE<br />PROSECUTED</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>He was a very selfish Giant.</p> +<p>The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play +on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and +they did not like it. They used to wander round the high wall +when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside. +“How happy we were there,” they said to each other.</p> +<p>Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little +blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant +it was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there +were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful +flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board +it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground +again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased +were the Snow and the Frost. “Spring has forgotten this +garden,” they cried, “so we will live here all the year +round.” The Snow covered up the grass with her great white +cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited +the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped +in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots +down. “This is a delightful spot,” he said, “we +must ask the Hail on a visit.” So the Hail came. Every +day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke +most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast +as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like +ice.</p> +<p>“I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,” +said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his +cold white garden; “I hope there will be a change in the weather.”</p> +<p>But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave +golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave +none. “He is too selfish,” she said. So it was +always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, +and the Snow danced about through the trees.</p> +<p>One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely +music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must +be the King’s musicians passing by. It was really only a +little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he +had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the +most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing +over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume +came to him through the open casement. “I believe the Spring +has come at last,” said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and +looked out.</p> +<p>What did he see?</p> +<p>He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the +wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches +of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little +child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again +that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their +arms gently above the children’s heads. The birds were flying +about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through +the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one +corner it was still winter. It was the farthest corner of the +garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that +he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering +all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered +with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above +it. “Climb up! little boy,” said the Tree, and it +bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.</p> +<p>And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out. “How +selfish I have been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring +would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top +of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall +be the children’s playground for ever and ever.” He +was really very sorry for what he had done.</p> +<p>So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and +went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they were +so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again. +Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears +that he did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind +him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. +And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang +on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them +round the Giant’s neck, and kissed him. And the other children, +when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running +back, and with them came the Spring. “It is your garden +now, little children,” said the Giant, and he took a great axe +and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market +at twelve o’clock they found the Giant playing with the children +in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.</p> +<p>All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant +to bid him good-bye.</p> +<p>“But where is your little companion?” he said: “the +boy I put into the tree.” The Giant loved him the best because +he had kissed him.</p> +<p>“We don’t know,” answered the children; “he +has gone away.”</p> +<p>“You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,” +said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know where +he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.</p> +<p>Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played +with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never +seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he +longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him. “How +I would like to see him!” he used to say.</p> +<p>Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He +could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched +the children at their games, and admired his garden. “I +have many beautiful flowers,” he said; “but the children +are the most beautiful flowers of all.”</p> +<p>One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. +He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring +asleep, and that the flowers were resting.</p> +<p>Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. +It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of +the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. +Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, +and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.</p> +<p>Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. +He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And +when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, +“Who hath dared to wound thee?” For on the palms of +the child’s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints +of two nails were on the little feet.</p> +<p>“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell +me, that I may take my big sword and slay him.”</p> +<p>“Nay!” answered the child; “but these are the wounds +of Love.”</p> +<p>“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell +on him, and he knelt before the little child.</p> +<p>And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, “You let +me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, +which is Paradise.”</p> +<p>And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant +lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE DEVOTED FRIEND</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>One morning the old Water-rat put his head out of his hole. +He had bright beady eyes and stiff grey whiskers and his tail was like +a long bit of black india-rubber. The little ducks were swimming +about in the pond, looking just like a lot of yellow canaries, and their +mother, who was pure white with real red legs, was trying to teach them +how to stand on their heads in the water.</p> +<p>“You will never be in the best society unless you can stand +on your heads,” she kept saying to them; and every now and then +she showed them how it was done. But the little ducks paid no +attention to her. They were so young that they did not know what +an advantage it is to be in society at all.</p> +<p>“What disobedient children!” cried the old Water-rat; +“they really deserve to be drowned.”</p> +<p>“Nothing of the kind,” answered the Duck, “every +one must make a beginning, and parents cannot be too patient.”</p> +<p>“Ah! I know nothing about the feelings of parents,” said +the Water-rat; “I am not a family man. In fact, I have never +been married, and I never intend to be. Love is all very well +in its way, but friendship is much higher. Indeed, I know of nothing +in the world that is either nobler or rarer than a devoted friendship.”</p> +<p>“And what, pray, is your idea of the duties of a devoted friend?” +asked a Green Linnet, who was sitting in a willow-tree hard by, and +had overheard the conversation.</p> +<p>“Yes, that is just what I want to know,” said the Duck; +and she swam away to the end of the pond, and stood upon her head, in +order to give her children a good example.</p> +<p>“What a silly question!” cried the Water-rat. “I +should expect my devoted friend to be devoted to me, of course.”</p> +<p>“And what would you do in return?” said the little bird, +swinging upon a silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings.</p> +<p>“I don’t understand you,” answered the Water-rat.</p> +<p>“Let me tell you a story on the subject,” said the Linnet.</p> +<p>“Is the story about me?” asked the Water-rat. “If +so, I will listen to it, for I am extremely fond of fiction.”</p> +<p>“It is applicable to you,” answered the Linnet; and he +flew down, and alighting upon the bank, he told the story of The Devoted +Friend.</p> +<p>“Once upon a time,” said the Linnet, “there was +an honest little fellow named Hans.”</p> +<p>“Was he very distinguished?” asked the Water-rat.</p> +<p>“No,” answered the Linnet, “I don’t think +he was distinguished at all, except for his kind heart, and his funny +round good-humoured face. He lived in a tiny cottage all by himself, +and every day he worked in his garden. In all the country-side +there was no garden so lovely as his. Sweet-william grew there, +and Gilly-flowers, and Shepherds’-purses, and Fair-maids of France. +There were damask Roses, and yellow Roses, lilac Crocuses, and gold, +purple Violets and white. Columbine and Ladysmock, Marjoram and +Wild Basil, the Cowslip and the Flower-de-luce, the Daffodil and the +Clove-Pink bloomed or blossomed in their proper order as the months +went by, one flower taking another flower’s place, so that there +were always beautiful things to look at, and pleasant odours to smell.</p> +<p>“Little Hans had a great many friends, but the most devoted +friend of all was big Hugh the Miller. Indeed, so devoted was +the rich Miller to little Hans, that be would never go by his garden +without leaning over the wall and plucking a large nosegay, or a handful +of sweet herbs, or filling his pockets with plums and cherries if it +was the fruit season.</p> +<p>“‘Real friends should have everything in common,’ +the Miller used to say, and little Hans nodded and smiled, and felt +very proud of having a friend with such noble ideas.</p> +<p>“Sometimes, indeed, the neighbours thought it strange that +the rich Miller never gave little Hans anything in return, though he +had a hundred sacks of flour stored away in his mill, and six milch +cows, and a large flock of woolly sheep; but Hans never troubled his +head about these things, and nothing gave him greater pleasure than +to listen to all the wonderful things the Miller used to say about the +unselfishness of true friendship.</p> +<p>“So little Hans worked away in his garden. During the +spring, the summer, and the autumn he was very happy, but when the winter +came, and he had no fruit or flowers to bring to the market, he suffered +a good deal from cold and hunger, and often had to go to bed without +any supper but a few dried pears or some hard nuts. In the winter, +also, he was extremely lonely, as the Miller never came to see him then.</p> +<p>“‘There is no good in my going to see little Hans as +long as the snow lasts,’ the Miller used to say to his wife, ‘for +when people are in trouble they should be left alone, and not be bothered +by visitors. That at least is my idea about friendship, and I +am sure I am right. So I shall wait till the spring comes, and +then I shall pay him a visit, and he will be able to give me a large +basket of primroses and that will make him so happy.’</p> +<p>“‘You are certainly very thoughtful about others,’ +answered the Wife, as she sat in her comfortable armchair by the big +pinewood fire; ‘very thoughtful indeed. It is quite a treat +to hear you talk about friendship. I am sure the clergyman himself +could not say such beautiful things as you do, though he does live in +a three-storied house, and wear a gold ring on his little finger.’</p> +<p>“‘But could we not ask little Hans up here?’ said +the Miller’s youngest son. ‘If poor Hans is in trouble +I will give him half my porridge, and show him my white rabbits.’</p> +<p>“‘What a silly boy you are’! cried the Miller; +‘I really don’t know what is the use of sending you to school. +You seem not to learn anything. Why, if little Hans came up here, +and saw our warm fire, and our good supper, and our great cask of red +wine, he might get envious, and envy is a most terrible thing, and would +spoil anybody’s nature. I certainly will not allow Hans’ +nature to be spoiled. I am his best friend, and I will always +watch over him, and see that he is not led into any temptations. +Besides, if Hans came here, he might ask me to let him have some flour +on credit, and that I could not do. Flour is one thing, and friendship +is another, and they should not be confused. Why, the words are +spelt differently, and mean quite different things. Everybody +can see that.’</p> +<p>“‘How well you talk’! said the Miller’s Wife, +pouring herself out a large glass of warm ale; ‘really I feel +quite drowsy. It is just like being in church.’</p> +<p>“‘Lots of people act well,’ answered the Miller; +‘but very few people talk well, which shows that talking is much +the more difficult thing of the two, and much the finer thing also’; +and he looked sternly across the table at his little son, who felt so +ashamed of himself that he hung his head down, and grew quite scarlet, +and began to cry into his tea. However, he was so young that you +must excuse him.”</p> +<p>“Is that the end of the story?” asked the Water-rat.</p> +<p>“Certainly not,” answered the Linnet, “that is +the beginning.”</p> +<p>“Then you are quite behind the age,” said the Water-rat. +“Every good story-teller nowadays starts with the end, and then +goes on to the beginning, and concludes with the middle. That +is the new method. I heard all about it the other day from a critic +who was walking round the pond with a young man. He spoke of the +matter at great length, and I am sure he must have been right, for he +had blue spectacles and a bald head, and whenever the young man made +any remark, he always answered ‘Pooh!’ But pray go +on with your story. I like the Miller immensely. I have +all kinds of beautiful sentiments myself, so there is a great sympathy +between us.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the Linnet, hopping now on one leg and now +on the other, “as soon as the winter was over, and the primroses +began to open their pale yellow stars, the Miller said to his wife that +he would go down and see little Hans.</p> +<p>“‘Why, what a good heart you have’! cried his Wife; +‘you are always thinking of others. And mind you take the +big basket with you for the flowers.’</p> +<p>“So the Miller tied the sails of the windmill together with +a strong iron chain, and went down the hill with the basket on his arm.</p> +<p>“‘Good morning, little Hans,’ said the Miller.</p> +<p>“‘Good morning,’ said Hans, leaning on his spade, +and smiling from ear to ear.</p> +<p>“‘And how have you been all the winter?’ said the +Miller.</p> +<p>“‘Well, really,’ cried Hans, ‘it is very +good of you to ask, very good indeed. I am afraid I had rather +a hard time of it, but now the spring has come, and I am quite happy, +and all my flowers are doing well.’</p> +<p>“‘We often talked of you during the winter, Hans,’ +said the Miller, ‘and wondered how you were getting on.’</p> +<p>“‘That was kind of you,’ said Hans; ‘I was +half afraid you had forgotten me.’</p> +<p>“‘Hans, I am surprised at you,’ said the Miller; +‘friendship never forgets. That is the wonderful thing about +it, but I am afraid you don’t understand the poetry of life. +How lovely your primroses are looking, by-the-bye”!</p> +<p>“‘They are certainly very lovely,’ said Hans, ‘and +it is a most lucky thing for me that I have so many. I am going +to bring them into the market and sell them to the Burgomaster’s +daughter, and buy back my wheelbarrow with the money.’</p> +<p>“‘Buy back your wheelbarrow? You don’t mean +to say you have sold it? What a very stupid thing to do’!</p> +<p>“‘Well, the fact is,’ said Hans, ‘that I +was obliged to. You see the winter was a very bad time for me, +and I really had no money at all to buy bread with. So I first +sold the silver buttons off my Sunday coat, and then I sold my silver +chain, and then I sold my big pipe, and at last I sold my wheelbarrow. +But I am going to buy them all back again now.’</p> +<p>“‘Hans,’ said the Miller, ‘I will give you +my wheelbarrow. It is not in very good repair; indeed, one side +is gone, and there is something wrong with the wheel-spokes; but in +spite of that I will give it to you. I know it is very generous +of me, and a great many people would think me extremely foolish for +parting with it, but I am not like the rest of the world. I think +that generosity is the essence of friendship, and, besides, I have got +a new wheelbarrow for myself. Yes, you may set your mind at ease, +I will give you my wheelbarrow.’</p> +<p>“‘Well, really, that is generous of you,’ said +little Hans, and his funny round face glowed all over with pleasure. +‘I can easily put it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in the +house.’</p> +<p>“‘A plank of wood’! said the Miller; ‘why, +that is just what I want for the roof of my barn. There is a very +large hole in it, and the corn will all get damp if I don’t stop +it up. How lucky you mentioned it! It is quite remarkable +how one good action always breeds another. I have given you my +wheelbarrow, and now you are going to give me your plank. Of course, +the wheelbarrow is worth far more than the plank, but true, friendship +never notices things like that. Pray get it at once, and I will +set to work at my barn this very day.’</p> +<p>“‘Certainly,’ cried little Hans, and he ran into +the shed and dragged the plank out.</p> +<p>“‘It is not a very big plank,’ said the Miller, +looking at it, ‘and I am afraid that after I have mended my barn-roof +there won’t be any left for you to mend the wheelbarrow with; +but, of course, that is not my fault. And now, as I have given +you my wheelbarrow, I am sure you would like to give me some flowers +in return. Here is the basket, and mind you fill it quite full.’</p> +<p>“‘Quite full?’ said little Hans, rather sorrowfully, +for it was really a very big basket, and he knew that if he filled it +he would have no flowers left for the market and he was very anxious +to get his silver buttons back.</p> +<p>“‘Well, really,’ answered the Miller, ‘as +I have given you my wheelbarrow, I don’t think that it is much +to ask you for a few flowers. I may be wrong, but I should have +thought that friendship, true friendship, was quite free from selfishness +of any kind.’</p> +<p>“‘My dear friend, my best friend,’ cried little +Hans, ‘you are welcome to all the flowers in my garden. +I would much sooner have your good opinion than my silver buttons, any +day’; and he ran and plucked all his pretty primroses, and filled +the Miller’s basket.</p> +<p>“‘Good-bye, little Hans,’ said the Miller, as he +went up the hill with the plank on his shoulder, and the big basket +in his hand.</p> +<p>“‘Good-bye,’ said little Hans, and he began to +dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow.</p> +<p>“The next day he was nailing up some honeysuckle against the +porch, when he heard the Miller’s voice calling to him from the +road. So he jumped off the ladder, and ran down the garden, and +looked over the wall.</p> +<p>“There was the Miller with a large sack of flour on his back.</p> +<p>“‘Dear little Hans,’ said the Miller, ‘would +you mind carrying this sack of flour for me to market?’</p> +<p>“‘Oh, I am so sorry,’ said Hans, ‘but I am +really very busy to-day. I have got all my creepers to nail up, +and all my flowers to water, and all my grass to roll.’</p> +<p>“‘Well, really,’ said the Miller, ‘I think +that, considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, it is +rather unfriendly of you to refuse.’</p> +<p>“‘Oh, don’t say that,’ cried little Hans, +‘I wouldn’t be unfriendly for the whole world’; and +he ran in for his cap, and trudged off with the big sack on his shoulders.</p> +<p>“It was a very hot day, and the road was terribly dusty, and +before Hans had reached the sixth milestone he was so tired that he +had to sit down and rest. However, he went on bravely, and as +last he reached the market. After he had waited there some time, +he sold the sack of flour for a very good price, and then he returned +home at once, for he was afraid that if he stopped too late he might +meet some robbers on the way.</p> +<p>“‘It has certainly been a hard day,’ said little +Hans to himself as he was going to bed, ‘but I am glad I did not +refuse the Miller, for he is my best friend, and, besides, he is going +to give me his wheelbarrow.’</p> +<p>“Early the next morning the Miller came down to get the money +for his sack of flour, but little Hans was so tired that he was still +in bed.</p> +<p>“‘Upon my word,’ said the Miller, ‘you are +very lazy. Really, considering that I am going to give you my +wheelbarrow, I think you might work harder. Idleness is a great +sin, and I certainly don’t like any of my friends to be idle or +sluggish. You must not mind my speaking quite plainly to you. +Of course I should not dream of doing so if I were not your friend. +But what is the good of friendship if one cannot say exactly what one +means? Anybody can say charming things and try to please and to +flatter, but a true friend always says unpleasant things, and does not +mind giving pain. Indeed, if he is a really true friend he prefers +it, for he knows that then he is doing good.’</p> +<p>“‘I am very sorry,’ said little Hans, rubbing his +eyes and pulling off his night-cap, ‘but I was so tired that I +thought I would lie in bed for a little time, and listen to the birds +singing. Do you know that I always work better after hearing the +birds sing?’</p> +<p>“‘Well, I am glad of that,’ said the Miller, clapping +little Hans on the back, ‘for I want you to come up to the mill +as soon as you are dressed, and mend my barn-roof for me.’</p> +<p>“Poor little Hans was very anxious to go and work in his garden, +for his flowers had not been watered for two days, but he did not like +to refuse the Miller, as he was such a good friend to him.</p> +<p>“‘Do you think it would be unfriendly of me if I said +I was busy?’ he inquired in a shy and timid voice.</p> +<p>“‘Well, really,’ answered the Miller, ‘I +do not think it is much to ask of you, considering that I am going to +give you my wheelbarrow; but of course if you refuse I will go and do +it myself.’</p> +<p>“‘Oh! on no account,’ cried little Hans and he +jumped out of bed, and dressed himself, and went up to the barn.</p> +<p>“He worked there all day long, till sunset, and at sunset the +Miller came to see how he was getting on.</p> +<p>“‘Have you mended the hole in the roof yet, little Hans?’ +cried the Miller in a cheery voice.</p> +<p>“‘It is quite mended,’ answered little Hans, coming +down the ladder.</p> +<p>“‘Ah’! said the Miller, ‘there is no work +so delightful as the work one does for others.’</p> +<p>“‘It is certainly a great privilege to hear you talk,’ +answered little Hans, sitting down, and wiping his forehead, ‘a +very great privilege. But I am afraid I shall never have such +beautiful ideas as you have.’</p> +<p>“‘Oh! they will come to you,’ said the Miller, +‘but you must take more pains. At present you have only +the practice of friendship; some day you will have the theory also.’</p> +<p>“‘Do you really think I shall?’ asked little Hans.</p> +<p>“‘I have no doubt of it,’ answered the Miller, +‘but now that you have mended the roof, you had better go home +and rest, for I want you to drive my sheep to the mountain to-morrow.’</p> +<p>“Poor little Hans was afraid to say anything to this, and early +the next morning the Miller brought his sheep round to the cottage, +and Hans started off with them to the mountain. It took him the +whole day to get there and back; and when he returned he was so tired +that he went off to sleep in his chair, and did not wake up till it +was broad daylight.</p> +<p>“‘What a delightful time I shall have in my garden,’ +he said, and he went to work at once.</p> +<p>“But somehow he was never able to look after his flowers at +all, for his friend the Miller was always coming round and sending him +off on long errands, or getting him to help at the mill. Little +Hans was very much distressed at times, as he was afraid his flowers +would think he had forgotten them, but he consoled himself by the reflection +that the Miller was his best friend. ‘Besides,’ he +used to say, ‘he is going to give me his wheelbarrow, and that +is an act of pure generosity.’</p> +<p>“So little Hans worked away for the Miller, and the Miller +said all kinds of beautiful things about friendship, which Hans took +down in a note-book, and used to read over at night, for he was a very +good scholar.</p> +<p>“Now it happened that one evening little Hans was sitting by +his fireside when a loud rap came at the door. It was a very wild +night, and the wind was blowing and roaring round the house so terribly +that at first he thought it was merely the storm. But a second +rap came, and then a third, louder than any of the others.</p> +<p>“‘It is some poor traveller,’ said little Hans +to himself, and he ran to the door.</p> +<p>“There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big +stick in the other.</p> +<p>“‘Dear little Hans,’ cried the Miller, ‘I +am in great trouble. My little boy has fallen off a ladder and +hurt himself, and I am going for the Doctor. But he lives so far +away, and it is such a bad night, that it has just occurred to me that +it would be much better if you went instead of me. You know I +am going to give you my wheelbarrow, and so, it is only fair that you +should do something for me in return.’</p> +<p>“‘Certainly,’ cried little Hans, ‘I take +it quite as a compliment your coming to me, and I will start off at +once. But you must lend me your lantern, as the night is so dark +that I am afraid I might fall into the ditch.’</p> +<p>“‘I am very sorry,’ answered the Miller, ‘but +it is my new lantern, and it would be a great loss to me if anything +happened to it.’</p> +<p>“‘Well, never mind, I will do without it,’ cried +little Hans, and he took down his great fur coat, and his warm scarlet +cap, and tied a muffler round his throat, and started off.</p> +<p>“What a dreadful storm it was! The night was so black +that little Hans could hardly see, and the wind was so strong that he +could scarcely stand. However, he was very courageous, and after +he had been walking about three hours, he arrived at the Doctor’s +house, and knocked at the door.</p> +<p>“‘Who is there?’ cried the Doctor, putting his +head out of his bedroom window.</p> +<p>“‘Little Hans, Doctor.’</p> +<p>“’What do you want, little Hans?’</p> +<p>“‘The Miller’s son has fallen from a ladder, and +has hurt himself, and the Miller wants you to come at once.’</p> +<p>“‘All right!’ said the Doctor; and he ordered his +horse, and his big boots, and his lantern, and came downstairs, and +rode off in the direction of the Miller’s house, little Hans trudging +behind him.</p> +<p>“But the storm grew worse and worse, and the rain fell in torrents, +and little Hans could not see where he was going, or keep up with the +horse. At last he lost his way, and wandered off on the moor, +which was a very dangerous place, as it was full of deep holes, and +there poor little Hans was drowned. His body was found the next +day by some goatherds, floating in a great pool of water, and was brought +back by them to the cottage.</p> +<p>“Everybody went to little Hans’ funeral, as he was so +popular, and the Miller was the chief mourner.</p> +<p>“‘As I was his best friend,’ said the Miller, ‘it +is only fair that I should have the best place’; so he walked +at the head of the procession in a long black cloak, and every now and +then he wiped his eyes with a big pocket-handkerchief.</p> +<p>“‘Little Hans is certainly a great loss to every one,’ +said the Blacksmith, when the funeral was over, and they were all seated +comfortably in the inn, drinking spiced wine and eating sweet cakes.</p> +<p>“‘A great loss to me at any rate,’ answered the +Miller; ‘why, I had as good as given him my wheelbarrow, and now +I really don’t know what to do with it. It is very much +in my way at home, and it is in such bad repair that I could not get +anything for it if I sold it. I will certainly take care not to +give away anything again. One always suffers for being generous.’”</p> +<p>“Well?” said the Water-rat, after a long pause.</p> +<p>“Well, that is the end,” said the Linnet.</p> +<p>“But what became of the Miller?” asked the Water-rat.</p> +<p>“Oh! I really don’t know,” replied the Linnet; +“and I am sure that I don’t care.”</p> +<p>“It is quite evident then that you have no sympathy in your +nature,” said the Water-rat.</p> +<p>“I am afraid you don’t quite see the moral of the story,” +remarked the Linnet.</p> +<p>“The what?” screamed the Water-rat.</p> +<p>“The moral.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean to say that the story has a moral?”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” said the Linnet.</p> +<p>“Well, really,” said the Water-rat, in a very angry manner, +“I think you should have told me that before you began. +If you had done so, I certainly would not have listened to you; in fact, +I should have said ‘Pooh,’ like the critic. However, +I can say it now”; so he shouted out “Pooh” at the +top of his voice, gave a whisk with his tail, and went back into his +hole.</p> +<p>“And how do you like the Water-rat?” asked the Duck, +who came paddling up some minutes afterwards. “He has a +great many good points, but for my own part I have a mother’s +feelings, and I can never look at a confirmed bachelor without the tears +coming into my eyes.”</p> +<p>“I am rather afraid that I have annoyed him,” answered +the Linnet. “The fact is, that I told him a story with a +moral.”</p> +<p>“Ah! that is always a very dangerous thing to do,” said +the Duck.</p> +<p>And I quite agree with her.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE REMARKABLE ROCKET</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>The King’s son was going to be married, so there were general +rejoicings. He had waited a whole year for his bride, and at last +she had arrived. She was a Russian Princess, and had driven all +the way from Finland in a sledge drawn by six reindeer. The sledge +was shaped like a great golden swan, and between the swan’s wings +lay the little Princess herself. Her long ermine-cloak reached +right down to her feet, on her head was a tiny cap of silver tissue, +and she was as pale as the Snow Palace in which she had always lived. +So pale was she that as she drove through the streets all the people +wondered. “She is like a white rose!” they cried, +and they threw down flowers on her from the balconies.</p> +<p>At the gate of the Castle the Prince was waiting to receive her. +He had dreamy violet eyes, and his hair was like fine gold. When +he saw her he sank upon one knee, and kissed her hand.</p> +<p>“Your picture was beautiful,” he murmured, “but +you are more beautiful than your picture”; and the little Princess +blushed.</p> +<p>“She was like a white rose before,” said a young Page +to his neighbour, “but she is like a red rose now”; and +the whole Court was delighted.</p> +<p>For the next three days everybody went about saying, “White +rose, Red rose, Red rose, White rose”; and the King gave orders +that the Page’s salary was to be doubled. As he received +no salary at all this was not of much use to him, but it was considered +a great honour, and was duly published in the Court Gazette.</p> +<p>When the three days were over the marriage was celebrated. +It was a magnificent ceremony, and the bride and bridegroom walked hand +in hand under a canopy of purple velvet embroidered with little pearls. +Then there was a State Banquet, which lasted for five hours. The +Prince and Princess sat at the top of the Great Hall and drank out of +a cup of clear crystal. Only true lovers could drink out of this +cup, for if false lips touched it, it grew grey and dull and cloudy.</p> +<p>“It’s quite clear that they love each other,” said +the little Page, “as clear as crystal!” and the King doubled +his salary a second time. “What an honour!” cried +all the courtiers.</p> +<p>After the banquet there was to be a Ball. The bride and bridegroom +were to dance the Rose-dance together, and the King had promised to +play the flute. He played very badly, but no one had ever dared +to tell him so, because he was the King. Indeed, he knew only +two airs, and was never quite certain which one he was playing; but +it made no matter, for, whatever he did, everybody cried out, “Charming! +charming!”</p> +<p>The last item on the programme was a grand display of fireworks, +to be let off exactly at midnight. The little Princess had never +seen a firework in her life, so the King had given orders that the Royal +Pyrotechnist should be in attendance on the day of her marriage.</p> +<p>“What are fireworks like?” she had asked the Prince, +one morning, as she was walking on the terrace.</p> +<p>“They are like the Aurora Borealis,” said the King, who +always answered questions that were addressed to other people, “only +much more natural. I prefer them to stars myself, as you always +know when they are going to appear, and they are as delightful as my +own flute-playing. You must certainly see them.”</p> +<p>So at the end of the King’s garden a great stand had been set +up, and as soon as the Royal Pyrotechnist had put everything in its +proper place, the fireworks began to talk to each other.</p> +<p>“The world is certainly very beautiful,” cried a little +Squib. “Just look at those yellow tulips. Why! if +they were real crackers they could not be lovelier. I am very +glad I have travelled. Travel improves the mind wonderfully, and +does away with all one’s prejudices.”</p> +<p>“The King’s garden is not the world, you foolish squib,” +said a big Roman Candle; “the world is an enormous place, and +it would take you three days to see it thoroughly.”</p> +<p>“Any place you love is the world to you,” exclaimed a +pensive Catherine Wheel, who had been attached to an old deal box in +early life, and prided herself on her broken heart; “but love +is not fashionable any more, the poets have killed it. They wrote +so much about it that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. +True love suffers, and is silent. I remember myself once—But +it is no matter now. Romance is a thing of the past.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” said the Roman Candle, “Romance never +dies. It is like the moon, and lives for ever. The bride +and bridegroom, for instance, love each other very dearly. I heard +all about them this morning from a brown-paper cartridge, who happened +to be staying in the same drawer as myself, and knew the latest Court +news.”</p> +<p>But the Catherine Wheel shook her head. “Romance is dead, +Romance is dead, Romance is dead,” she murmured. She was +one of those people who think that, if you say the same thing over and +over a great many times, it becomes true in the end.</p> +<p>Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard, and they all looked round.</p> +<p>It came from a tall, supercilious-looking Rocket, who was tied to +the end of a long stick. He always coughed before he made any +observation, so as to attract attention.</p> +<p>“Ahem! ahem!” he said, and everybody listened except +the poor Catherine Wheel, who was still shaking her head, and murmuring, +“Romance is dead.”</p> +<p>“Order! order!” cried out a Cracker. He was something +of a politician, and had always taken a prominent part in the local +elections, so he knew the proper Parliamentary expressions to use.</p> +<p>“Quite dead,” whispered the Catherine Wheel, and she +went off to sleep.</p> +<p>As soon as there was perfect silence, the Rocket coughed a third +time and began. He spoke with a very slow, distinct voice, as +if he was dictating his memoirs, and always looked over the shoulder +of the person to whom he was talking. In fact, he had a most distinguished +manner.</p> +<p>“How fortunate it is for the King’s son,” he remarked, +“that he is to be married on the very day on which I am to be +let off. Really, if it had been arranged beforehand, it could +not have turned out better for him; but, Princes are always lucky.”</p> +<p>“Dear me!” said the little Squib, “I thought it +was quite the other way, and that we were to be let off in the Prince’s +honour.”</p> +<p>“It may be so with you,” he answered; “indeed, +I have no doubt that it is, but with me it is different. I am +a very remarkable Rocket, and come of remarkable parents. My mother +was the most celebrated Catherine Wheel of her day, and was renowned +for her graceful dancing. When she made her great public appearance +she spun round nineteen times before she went out, and each time that +she did so she threw into the air seven pink stars. She was three +feet and a half in diameter, and made of the very best gunpowder. +My father was a Rocket like myself, and of French extraction. +He flew so high that the people were afraid that he would never come +down again. He did, though, for he was of a kindly disposition, +and he made a most brilliant descent in a shower of golden rain. +The newspapers wrote about his performance in very flattering terms. +Indeed, the Court Gazette called him a triumph of Pylotechnic art.”</p> +<p>“Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean,” said a Bengal Light; +“I know it is Pyrotechnic, for I saw it written on my own canister.”</p> +<p>“Well, I said Pylotechnic,” answered the Rocket, in a +severe tone of voice, and the Bengal Light felt so crushed that he began +at once to bully the little squibs, in order to show that he was still +a person of some importance.</p> +<p>“I was saying,” continued the Rocket, “I was saying—What +was I saying?”</p> +<p>“You were talking about yourself,” replied the Roman +Candle.</p> +<p>“Of course; I knew I was discussing some interesting subject +when I was so rudely interrupted. I hate rudeness and bad manners +of every kind, for I am extremely sensitive. No one in the whole +world is so sensitive as I am, I am quite sure of that.”</p> +<p>“What is a sensitive person?” said the Cracker to the +Roman Candle.</p> +<p>“A person who, because he has corns himself, always treads +on other people’s toes,” answered the Roman Candle in a +low whisper; and the Cracker nearly exploded with laughter.</p> +<p>“Pray, what are you laughing at?” inquired the Rocket; +“I am not laughing.”</p> +<p>“I am laughing because I am happy,” replied the Cracker.</p> +<p>“That is a very selfish reason,” said the Rocket angrily. +“What right have you to be happy? You should be thinking +about others. In fact, you should be thinking about me. +I am always thinking about myself, and I expect everybody else to do +the same. That is what is called sympathy. It is a beautiful +virtue, and I possess it in a high degree. Suppose, for instance, +anything happened to me to-night, what a misfortune that would be for +every one! The Prince and Princess would never be happy again, +their whole married life would be spoiled; and as for the King, I know +he would not get over it. Really, when I begin to reflect on the +importance of my position, I am almost moved to tears.”</p> +<p>“If you want to give pleasure to others,” cried the Roman +Candle, “you had better keep yourself dry.”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” exclaimed the Bengal Light, who was now +in better spirits; “that is only common sense.”</p> +<p>“Common sense, indeed!” said the Rocket indignantly; +“you forget that I am very uncommon, and very remarkable. +Why, anybody can have common sense, provided that they have no imagination. +But I have imagination, for I never think of things as they really are; +I always think of them as being quite different. As for keeping +myself dry, there is evidently no one here who can at all appreciate +an emotional nature. Fortunately for myself, I don’t care. +The only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of +the immense inferiority of everybody else, and this is a feeling that +I have always cultivated. But none of you have any hearts. +Here you are laughing and making merry just as if the Prince and Princess +had not just been married.”</p> +<p>“Well, really,” exclaimed a small Fire-balloon, “why +not? It is a most joyful occasion, and when I soar up into the +air I intend to tell the stars all about it. You will see them +twinkle when I talk to them about the pretty bride.”</p> +<p>“Ah! what a trivial view of life!” said the Rocket; “but +it is only what I expected. There is nothing in you; you are hollow +and empty. Why, perhaps the Prince and Princess may go to live +in a country where there is a deep river, and perhaps they may have +one only son, a little fair-haired boy with violet eyes like the Prince +himself; and perhaps some day he may go out to walk with his nurse; +and perhaps the nurse may go to sleep under a great elder-tree; and +perhaps the little boy may fall into the deep river and be drowned. +What a terrible misfortune! Poor people, to lose their only son! +It is really too dreadful! I shall never get over it.”</p> +<p>“But they have not lost their only son,” said the Roman +Candle; “no misfortune has happened to them at all.”</p> +<p>“I never said that they had,” replied the Rocket; “I +said that they might. If they had lost their only son there would +be no use in saying anything more about the matter. I hate people +who cry over spilt milk. But when I think that they might lose +their only son, I certainly am very much affected.”</p> +<p>“You certainly are!” cried the Bengal Light. “In +fact, you are the most affected person I ever met.”</p> +<p>“You are the rudest person I ever met,” said the Rocket, +“and you cannot understand my friendship for the Prince.”</p> +<p>“Why, you don’t even know him,” growled the Roman +Candle.</p> +<p>“I never said I knew him,” answered the Rocket. +“I dare say that if I knew him I should not be his friend at all. +It is a very dangerous thing to know one’s friends.”</p> +<p>“You had really better keep yourself dry,” said the Fire-balloon. +“That is the important thing.”</p> +<p>“Very important for you, I have no doubt,” answered the +Rocket, “but I shall weep if I choose”; and he actually +burst into real tears, which flowed down his stick like rain-drops, +and nearly drowned two little beetles, who were just thinking of setting +up house together, and were looking for a nice dry spot to live in.</p> +<p>“He must have a truly romantic nature,” said the Catherine +Wheel, “for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about”; +and she heaved a deep sigh, and thought about the deal box.</p> +<p>But the Roman Candle and the Bengal Light were quite indignant, and +kept saying, “Humbug! humbug!” at the top of their voices. +They were extremely practical, and whenever they objected to anything +they called it humbug.</p> +<p>Then the moon rose like a wonderful silver shield; and the stars +began to shine, and a sound of music came from the palace.</p> +<p>The Prince and Princess were leading the dance. They danced +so beautifully that the tall white lilies peeped in at the window and +watched them, and the great red poppies nodded their heads and beat +time.</p> +<p>Then ten o’clock struck, and then eleven, and then twelve, +and at the last stroke of midnight every one came out on the terrace, +and the King sent for the Royal Pyrotechnist.</p> +<p>“Let the fireworks begin,” said the King; and the Royal +Pyrotechnist made a low bow, and marched down to the end of the garden. +He had six attendants with him, each of whom carried a lighted torch +at the end of a long pole.</p> +<p>It was certainly a magnificent display.</p> +<p>Whizz! Whizz! went the Catherine Wheel, as she spun round and round. +Boom! Boom! went the Roman Candle. Then the Squibs danced +all over the place, and the Bengal Lights made everything look scarlet. +“Good-bye,” cried the Fire-balloon, as he soared away, dropping +tiny blue sparks. Bang! Bang! answered the Crackers, who were +enjoying themselves immensely. Every one was a great success except +the Remarkable Rocket. He was so damp with crying that he could +not go off at all. The best thing in him was the gunpowder, and +that was so wet with tears that it was of no use. All his poor +relations, to whom he would never speak, except with a sneer, shot up +into the sky like wonderful golden flowers with blossoms of fire. +Huzza! Huzza! cried the Court; and the little Princess laughed with +pleasure.</p> +<p>“I suppose they are reserving me for some grand occasion,” +said the Rocket; “no doubt that is what it means,” and he +looked more supercilious than ever.</p> +<p>The next day the workmen came to put everything tidy. “This +is evidently a deputation,” said the Rocket; “I will receive +them with becoming dignity” so he put his nose in the air, and +began to frown severely as if he were thinking about some very important +subject. But they took no notice of him at all till they were +just going away. Then one of them caught sight of him. “Hallo!” +he cried, “what a bad rocket!” and he threw him over the +wall into the ditch.</p> +<p>“BAD Rocket? BAD Rocket?” he said, as he whirled +through the air; “impossible! GRAND Rocket, that is what +the man said. BAD and GRAND sound very much the same, indeed they +often are the same”; and he fell into the mud.</p> +<p>“It is not comfortable here,” he remarked, “but +no doubt it is some fashionable watering-place, and they have sent me +away to recruit my health. My nerves are certainly very much shattered, +and I require rest.”</p> +<p>Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled +coat, swam up to him.</p> +<p>“A new arrival, I see!” said the Frog. “Well, +after all there is nothing like mud. Give me rainy weather and +a ditch, and I am quite happy. Do you think it will be a wet afternoon? +I am sure I hope so, but the sky is quite blue and cloudless. +What a pity!”</p> +<p>“Ahem! ahem!” said the Rocket, and he began to cough.</p> +<p>“What a delightful voice you have!” cried the Frog. +“Really it is quite like a croak, and croaking is of course the +most musical sound in the world. You will hear our glee-club this +evening. We sit in the old duck pond close by the farmer’s +house, and as soon as the moon rises we begin. It is so entrancing +that everybody lies awake to listen to us. In fact, it was only +yesterday that I heard the farmer’s wife say to her mother that +she could not get a wink of sleep at night on account of us. It +is most gratifying to find oneself so popular.”</p> +<p>“Ahem! ahem!” said the Rocket angrily. He was very +much annoyed that he could not get a word in.</p> +<p>“A delightful voice, certainly,” continued the Frog; +“I hope you will come over to the duck-pond. I am off to +look for my daughters. I have six beautiful daughters, and I am +so afraid the Pike may meet them. He is a perfect monster, and +would have no hesitation in breakfasting off them. Well, good-bye: +I have enjoyed our conversation very much, I assure you.”</p> +<p>“Conversation, indeed!” said the Rocket. “You +have talked the whole time yourself. That is not conversation.”</p> +<p>“Somebody must listen,” answered the Frog, “and +I like to do all the talking myself. It saves time, and prevents +arguments.”</p> +<p>“But I like arguments,” said the Rocket.</p> +<p>“I hope not,” said the Frog complacently. “Arguments +are extremely vulgar, for everybody in good society holds exactly the +same opinions. Good-bye a second time; I see my daughters in the +distance and the little Frog swam away.</p> +<p>“You are a very irritating person,” said the Rocket, +“and very ill-bred. I hate people who talk about themselves, +as you do, when one wants to talk about oneself, as I do. It is +what I call selfishness, and selfishness is a most detestable thing, +especially to any one of my temperament, for I am well known for my +sympathetic nature. In fact, you should take example by me; you +could not possibly have a better model. Now that you have the +chance you had better avail yourself of it, for I am going back to Court +almost immediately. I am a great favourite at Court; in fact, +the Prince and Princess were married yesterday in my honour. Of +course you know nothing of these matters, for you are a provincial.”</p> +<p>“There is no good talking to him,” said a Dragon-fly, +who was sitting on the top of a large brown bulrush; “no good +at all, for he has gone away.”</p> +<p>“Well, that is his loss, not mine,” answered the Rocket. +“I am not going to stop talking to him merely because he pays +no attention. I like hearing myself talk. It is one of my +greatest pleasures. I often have long conversations all by myself, +and I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single +word of what I am saying.”</p> +<p>“Then you should certainly lecture on Philosophy,” said +the Dragon-fly; and he spread a pair of lovely gauze wings and soared +away into the sky.</p> +<p>“How very silly of him not to stay here!” said the Rocket. +“I am sure that he has not often got such a chance of improving +his mind. However, I don’t care a bit. Genius like +mine is sure to be appreciated some day”; and he sank down a little +deeper into the mud.</p> +<p>After some time a large White Duck swam up to him. She had +yellow legs, and webbed feet, and was considered a great beauty on account +of her waddle.</p> +<p>“Quack, quack, quack,” she said. “What a +curious shape you are! May I ask were you born like that, or is +it the result of an accident?”</p> +<p>“It is quite evident that you have always lived in the country,” +answered the Rocket, “otherwise you would know who I am. +However, I excuse your ignorance. It would be unfair to expect +other people to be as remarkable as oneself. You will no doubt +be surprised to hear that I can fly up into the sky, and come down in +a shower of golden rain.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think much of that,” said the Duck, “as +I cannot see what use it is to any one. Now, if you could plough +the fields like the ox, or draw a cart like the horse, or look after +the sheep like the collie-dog, that would be something.”</p> +<p>“My good creature,” cried the Rocket in a very haughty +tone of voice, “I see that you belong to the lower orders. +A person of my position is never useful. We have certain accomplishments, +and that is more than sufficient. I have no sympathy myself with +industry of any kind, least of all with such industries as you seem +to recommend. Indeed, I have always been of opinion that hard +work is simply the refuge of people who have nothing whatever to do.”</p> +<p>“Well, well,” said the Duck, who was of a very peaceable +disposition, and never quarrelled with any one, “everybody has +different tastes. I hope, at any rate, that you are going to take +up your residence here.”</p> +<p>“Oh! dear no,” cried the Rocket. “I am merely +a visitor, a distinguished visitor. The fact is that I find this +place rather tedious. There is neither society here, nor solitude. +In fact, it is essentially suburban. I shall probably go back +to Court, for I know that I am destined to make a sensation in the world.”</p> +<p>“I had thoughts of entering public life once myself,” +remarked the Duck; “there are so many things that need reforming. +Indeed, I took the chair at a meeting some time ago, and we passed resolutions +condemning everything that we did not like. However, they did +not seem to have much effect. Now I go in for domesticity, and +look after my family.”</p> +<p> “I am made for public life,” said the Rocket, “and +so are all my relations, even the humblest of them. Whenever we +appear we excite great attention. I have not actually appeared +myself, but when I do so it will be a magnificent sight. As for +domesticity, it ages one rapidly, and distracts one’s mind from +higher things.”</p> +<p>“Ah! the higher things of life, how fine they are!” said +the Duck; “and that reminds me how hungry I feel”: and she +swam away down the stream, saying, “Quack, quack, quack.”</p> +<p>“Come back! come back!” screamed the Rocket, “I +have a great deal to say to you”; but the Duck paid no attention +to him. “I am glad that she has gone,” he said to +himself, “she has a decidedly middle-class mind”; and he +sank a little deeper still into the mud, and began to think about the +loneliness of genius, when suddenly two little boys in white smocks +came running down the bank, with a kettle and some faggots.</p> +<p>“This must be the deputation,” said the Rocket, and he +tried to look very dignified.</p> +<p>“Hallo!” cried one of the boys, “look at this old +stick! I wonder how it came here”; and he picked the rocket +out of the ditch.</p> +<p>“OLD Stick!” said the Rocket, “impossible! +GOLD Stick, that is what he said. Gold Stick is very complimentary. +In fact, he mistakes me for one of the Court dignitaries!”</p> +<p>“Let us put it into the fire!” said the other boy, “it +will help to boil the kettle.”</p> +<p>So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and +lit the fire.</p> +<p>“This is magnificent,” cried the Rocket, “they +are going to let me off in broad day-light, so that every one can see +me.”</p> +<p>“We will go to sleep now,” they said, “and when +we wake up the kettle will be boiled”; and they lay down on the +grass, and shut their eyes.</p> +<p>The Rocket was very damp, so he took a long time to burn. At +last, however, the fire caught him.</p> +<p>“Now I am going off!” he cried, and he made himself very +stiff and straight. “I know I shall go much higher than +the stars, much higher than the moon, much higher than the sun. +In fact, I shall go so high that—”</p> +<p>Fizz! Fizz! Fizz! and he went straight up into the air.</p> +<p>“Delightful!” he cried, “I shall go on like this +for ever. What a success I am!”</p> +<p>But nobody saw him.</p> +<p>Then he began to feel a curious tingling sensation all over him.</p> +<p>“Now I am going to explode,” he cried. “I +shall set the whole world on fire, and make such a noise that nobody +will talk about anything else for a whole year.” And he +certainly did explode. Bang! Bang! Bang! went the gunpowder. +There was no doubt about it.</p> +<p>But nobody heard him, not even the two little boys, for they were +sound asleep.</p> +<p>Then all that was left of him was the stick, and this fell down on +the back of a Goose who was taking a walk by the side of the ditch.</p> +<p>“Good heavens!” cried the Goose. “It is going +to rain sticks”; and she rushed into the water.</p> +<p>“I knew I should create a great sensation,” gasped the +Rocket, and he went out.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES ***</p> +<pre> + +******This file should be named hpaot10h.htm or hpaot10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, hpaot11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, hpaot10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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