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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Happy Prince and Other Tales, by Oscar Wilde
+(#12 in our series by Oscar Wilde)
+
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+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
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+*****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
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES ***
+
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1910 edition by David Price, email
+ccx074@coventry.ac.uk.  Second proof by Paul Redmond.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+The Happy Prince
+The Nightingale and the Rose
+The Selfish Giant
+The Devoted Friend
+The Remarkable Rocket
+
+
+
+THE HAPPY PRINCE
+
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"How do you know?" said the Mathematical Master, "you have never
+seen one."
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+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."
+
+"Will you come away with me?" he said finally to her; but the Reed
+shook her head, she was so attached to her home.
+
+"You have been trifling with me," he cried.  "I am off to the
+Pyramids.  Good-bye!" and he flew away.
+
+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."
+
+Then he saw the statue on the tall column.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+Then another drop fell.
+
+"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.
+
+But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he
+looked up, and saw--Ah! what did he see?
+
+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.
+
+"Who are you?" he said.
+
+"I am the Happy Prince."
+
+"Why are you weeping then?" asked the Swallow; "you have quite
+drenched me."
+
+"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."
+
+"What! is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow to himself.  He was
+too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+"Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.  "Have you any
+commissions for Egypt?" he cried; "I am just starting."
+
+"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
+stay with me one night longer?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"I will wait with you one night longer," said the Swallow, who
+really had a good heart.  "Shall I take him another ruby?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do that"; and he began
+to weep.
+
+"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I
+command you."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"I am come to bid you good-bye," he cried.
+
+"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
+stay with me one night longer?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"I will stay with you one night longer," said the Swallow, "but I
+cannot pluck out your eye.  You would be quite blind then."
+
+"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I
+command you."
+
+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.
+
+Then the Swallow came back to the Prince.  "You are blind now," he
+said, "so I will stay with you always."
+
+"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you must go away to
+Egypt."
+
+"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, and he slept at
+the Prince's feet.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at
+his feet.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"How shabby indeed!" cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed
+with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Little better than a beggar," said the Town Councillors.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+"Of myself," said each of the Town Councillors, and they
+quarrelled.  When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+
+
+THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE
+
+
+
+"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."
+
+From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and
+she looked out through the leaves, and wondered.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past
+him with his tail in the air.
+
+"Why, indeed?" said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about after a
+sunbeam.
+
+"Why, indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in a soft, low
+voice.
+
+"He is weeping for a red rose," said the Nightingale.
+
+"For a red rose?" they cried; "how very ridiculous!" and the little
+Lizard, who was something of a cynic, laughed outright.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest
+song."
+
+But the Tree shook its head.
+
+"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."
+
+So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing
+round the old sun-dial.
+
+"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest
+song."
+
+But the Tree shook its head.
+
+"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."
+
+So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing
+beneath the Student's window.
+
+"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest
+song."
+
+But the Tree shook its head.
+
+"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."
+
+"One red rose is all I want," cried the Nightingale, "only one red
+rose!  Is there no way by which I can get it?"
+
+"There is away," answered the Tree; "but it is so terrible that I
+dare not tell it to you."
+
+"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am not afraid."
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall feel very lonely
+when you are gone."
+
+So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice was like
+water bubbling from a silver jar.
+
+When she had finished her song the Student got up, and pulled a
+note-book and a lead-pencil out of his pocket.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+And at noon the Student opened his window and looked out.
+
+"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.
+
+Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professor's house with
+the rose in his hand.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+But the girl frowned.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and
+began to read.
+
+
+
+THE SELFISH GIANT
+
+
+
+Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used
+to go and play in the Giant's garden.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"What are you doing here?" he cried in a very gruff voice, and the
+children ran away.
+
+"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.
+
+
+TRESPASSERS
+WILL BE
+PROSECUTED
+
+
+He was a very selfish Giant.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+What did he see?
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant
+to bid him good-bye.
+
+"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.
+
+"We don't know," answered the children; "he has gone away."
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the Giant; "tell me, that I
+may take my big sword and slay him."
+
+"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the wounds of Love."
+
+"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and
+he knelt before the little child.
+
+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."
+
+And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant
+lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.
+
+
+
+THE DEVOTED FRIEND
+
+
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"What disobedient children!" cried the old Water-rat; "they really
+deserve to be drowned."
+
+"Nothing of the kind," answered the Duck, "every one must make a
+beginning, and parents cannot be too patient."
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"What a silly question!" cried the Water-rat.  "I should expect my
+devoted friend to be devoted to me, of course."
+
+"And what would you do in return?" said the little bird, swinging
+upon a silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings.
+
+"I don't understand you," answered the Water-rat.
+
+"Let me tell you a story on the subject," said the Linnet.
+
+"Is the story about me?" asked the Water-rat.  "If so, I will
+listen to it, for I am extremely fond of fiction."
+
+"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.
+
+"Once upon a time," said the Linnet, "there was an honest little
+fellow named Hans."
+
+"Was he very distinguished?" asked the Water-rat.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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."
+
+"Is that the end of the story?" asked the Water-rat.
+
+"Certainly not," answered the Linnet, "that is the beginning."
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'Good morning, little Hans,' said the Miller.
+
+"'Good morning,' said Hans, leaning on his spade, and smiling from
+ear to ear.
+
+"'And how have you been all the winter?' said the Miller.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'We often talked of you during the winter, Hans,' said the Miller,
+'and wondered how you were getting on.'
+
+"'That was kind of you,' said Hans; 'I was half afraid you had
+forgotten me.'
+
+"'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"!
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Buy back your wheelbarrow?  You don't mean to say you have sold
+it?  What a very stupid thing to do'!
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Certainly,' cried little Hans, and he ran into the shed and
+dragged the plank out.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'Good-bye,' said little Hans, and he began to dig away quite
+merrily, he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow.
+
+"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.
+
+"There was the Miller with a large sack of flour on his back.
+
+"'Dear little Hans,' said the Miller, 'would you mind carrying this
+sack of flour for me to market?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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?'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'Do you think it would be unfriendly of me if I said I was busy?'
+he inquired in a shy and timid voice.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Oh! on no account,' cried little Hans and he jumped out of bed,
+and dressed himself, and went up to the barn.
+
+"He worked there all day long, till sunset, and at sunset the
+Miller came to see how he was getting on.
+
+"'Have you mended the hole in the roof yet, little Hans?' cried the
+Miller in a cheery voice.
+
+"'It is quite mended,' answered little Hans, coming down the
+ladder.
+
+"'Ah'! said the Miller, 'there is no work so delightful as the work
+one does for others.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'Do you really think I shall?' asked little Hans.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"'What a delightful time I shall have in my garden,' he said, and
+he went to work at once.
+
+"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.'
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'It is some poor traveller,' said little Hans to himself, and he
+ran to the door.
+
+"There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big stick
+in the other.
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"'Who is there?' cried the Doctor, putting his head out of his
+bedroom window.
+
+"'Little Hans, Doctor.'
+
+"'What do you want, little Hans?'
+
+"'The Miller's son has fallen from a ladder, and has hurt himself,
+and the Miller wants you to come at once.'
+
+"'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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Everybody went to little Hans' funeral, as he was so popular, and
+the Miller was the chief mourner.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.
+
+"'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.'"
+
+"Well?" said the Water-rat, after a long pause.
+
+"Well, that is the end," said the Linnet.
+
+"But what became of the Miller?" asked the Water-rat.
+
+"Oh!  I really don't know," replied the Linnet; "and I am sure that
+I don't care."
+
+"It is quite evident then that you have no sympathy in your
+nature," said the Water-rat.
+
+"I am afraid you don't quite see the moral of the story," remarked
+the Linnet.
+
+"The what?" screamed the Water-rat.
+
+"The moral."
+
+"Do you mean to say that the story has a moral?"
+
+"Certainly," said the Linnet.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"I am rather afraid that I have annoyed him," answered the Linnet.
+"The fact is, that I told him a story with a moral."
+
+"Ah! that is always a very dangerous thing to do," said the Duck.
+
+And I quite agree with her.
+
+
+
+THE REMARKABLE ROCKET
+
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Your picture was beautiful," he murmured, "but you are more
+beautiful than your picture"; and the little Princess blushed.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+"What are fireworks like?" she had asked the Prince, one morning,
+as she was walking on the terrace.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard, and they all looked round.
+
+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.
+
+"Ahem! ahem!" he said, and everybody listened except the poor
+Catherine Wheel, who was still shaking her head, and murmuring,
+"Romance is dead."
+
+"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.
+
+"Quite dead," whispered the Catherine Wheel, and she went off to
+sleep.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean," said a Bengal Light; "I know
+it is Pyrotechnic, for I saw it written on my own canister."
+
+"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.
+
+"I was saying," continued the Rocket, "I was saying--What was I
+saying?"
+
+"You were talking about yourself," replied the Roman Candle.
+
+"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."
+
+"What is a sensitive person?" said the Cracker to the Roman Candle.
+
+"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.
+
+"Pray, what are you laughing at?" inquired the Rocket; "I am not
+laughing."
+
+"I am laughing because I am happy," replied the Cracker.
+
+"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."
+
+"If you want to give pleasure to others," cried the Roman Candle,
+"you had better keep yourself dry."
+
+"Certainly," exclaimed the Bengal Light, who was now in better
+spirits; "that is only common sense."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"But they have not lost their only son," said the Roman Candle; "no
+misfortune has happened to them at all."
+
+"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."
+
+"You certainly are!" cried the Bengal Light.  "In fact, you are the
+most affected person I ever met."
+
+"You are the rudest person I ever met," said the Rocket, "and you
+cannot understand my friendship for the Prince."
+
+"Why, you don't even know him," growled the Roman Candle.
+
+"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."
+
+"You had really better keep yourself dry," said the Fire-balloon.
+"That is the important thing."
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+Then the moon rose like a wonderful silver shield; and the stars
+began to shine, and a sound of music came from the palace.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+It was certainly a magnificent display.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled
+coat, swam up to him.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket, and he began to cough.
+
+"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."
+
+"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket angrily.  He was very much annoyed
+that he could not get a word in.
+
+"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."
+
+"Conversation, indeed!" said the Rocket.  "You have talked the
+whole time yourself.  That is not conversation."
+
+"Somebody must listen," answered the Frog, "and I like to do all
+the talking myself.  It saves time, and prevents arguments."
+
+"But I like arguments," said the Rocket.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+ "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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"This must be the deputation," said the Rocket, and he tried to
+look very dignified.
+
+"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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Let us put it into the fire!" said the other boy, "it will help to
+boil the kettle."
+
+So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and
+lit the fire.
+
+"This is magnificent," cried the Rocket, "they are going to let me
+off in broad day-light, so that every one can see me."
+
+"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.
+
+The Rocket was very damp, so he took a long time to burn.  At last,
+however, the fire caught him.
+
+"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--"
+
+Fizz! Fizz! Fizz! and he went straight up into the air.
+
+"Delightful!" he cried, "I shall go on like this for ever.  What a
+success I am!"
+
+But nobody saw him.
+
+Then he began to feel a curious tingling sensation all over him.
+
+"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.
+
+But nobody heard him, not even the two little boys, for they were
+sound asleep.
+
+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.
+
+"Good heavens!" cried the Goose.  "It is going to rain sticks"; and
+she rushed into the water.
+
+"I knew I should create a great sensation," gasped the Rocket, and
+he went out.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES ***
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+     "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)
+
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+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
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+*****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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; &ldquo;He is as beautiful
+as a weathercock,&rdquo; remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished
+to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; &ldquo;only not quite
+so useful,&rdquo; he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical,
+which he really was not.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why can&rsquo;t you be like the Happy Prince?&rdquo; asked
+a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,&rdquo;
+muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He looks just like an angel,&rdquo; said the Charity Children
+as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and
+their clean white pinafores.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How do you know?&rdquo; said the Mathematical Master, &ldquo;you
+have never seen one.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! but we have, in our dreams,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Shall I love you?&rdquo; said the Swallow, who liked to come
+to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow.&nbsp; So he flew
+round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver
+ripples.&nbsp; This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the
+summer.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is a ridiculous attachment,&rdquo; twittered the other
+Swallows; &ldquo;she has no money, and far too many relations&rdquo;;
+and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;She has no conversation,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and I am afraid
+that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful
+curtseys.&nbsp; &ldquo;I admit that she is domestic,&rdquo; he continued,
+&ldquo;but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love
+travelling also.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Will you come away with me?&rdquo; he said finally to her;
+but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You have been trifling with me,&rdquo; he cried.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+am off to the Pyramids.&nbsp; Good-bye!&rdquo; and he flew away.</p>
+<p>All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Where shall I put up?&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I hope the town
+has made preparations.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Then he saw the statue on the tall column.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will put up there,&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;it is a fine
+position, with plenty of fresh air.&rdquo;&nbsp; So he alighted just
+between the feet of the Happy Prince.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have a golden bedroom,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;What a curious thing!&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;there is not a
+single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet
+it is raining.&nbsp; The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful.&nbsp;
+The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Then another drop fell.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?&rdquo;
+he said; &ldquo;I must look for a good chimney-pot,&rdquo; 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&mdash;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.&nbsp; His face was so beautiful in the
+moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; he said.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am the Happy Prince.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why are you weeping then?&rdquo; asked the Swallow; &ldquo;you
+have quite drenched me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When I was alive and had a human heart,&rdquo; answered the
+statue, &ldquo;I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace
+of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter.&nbsp; In the daytime
+I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led
+the dance in the Great Hall.&nbsp; Round the garden ran a very lofty
+wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about
+me was so beautiful.&nbsp; My courtiers called me the Happy Prince,
+and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness.&nbsp; So I lived,
+and so I died.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What! is he not solid gold?&rdquo; said the Swallow to himself.&nbsp;
+He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Far away,&rdquo; continued the statue in a low musical voice,
+&ldquo;far away in a little street there is a poor house.&nbsp; One
+of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a
+table.&nbsp; Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands,
+all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress.&nbsp; She is embroidering
+passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen&rsquo;s
+maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball.&nbsp; In a bed in the
+corner of the room her little boy is lying ill.&nbsp; He has a fever,
+and is asking for oranges.&nbsp; His mother has nothing to give him
+but river water, so he is crying.&nbsp; Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,
+will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt?&nbsp; My feet
+are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am waited for in Egypt,&rdquo; said the Swallow.&nbsp; &ldquo;My
+friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers.&nbsp;
+Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King.&nbsp; The
+King is there himself in his painted coffin.&nbsp; He is wrapped in
+yellow linen, and embalmed with spices.&nbsp; Round his neck is a chain
+of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger?&nbsp;
+The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think I like boys,&rdquo; answered the Swallow.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two
+rude boys, the miller&rsquo;s sons, who were always throwing stones
+at me.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;It is very cold here,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but I will stay
+with you for one night, and be your messenger.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you, little Swallow,&rdquo; said the Prince.</p>
+<p>So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince&rsquo;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.&nbsp; He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing.&nbsp;
+A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover.&nbsp; &ldquo;How
+wonderful the stars are,&rdquo; he said to her, &ldquo;and how wonderful
+is the power of love!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball,&rdquo;
+she answered; &ldquo;I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered
+on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts
+of the ships.&nbsp; He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews
+bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales.&nbsp;
+At last he came to the poor house and looked in.&nbsp; The boy was tossing
+feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so
+tired.&nbsp; In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside
+the woman&rsquo;s thimble.&nbsp; Then he flew gently round the bed,
+fanning the boy&rsquo;s forehead with his wings.&nbsp; &ldquo;How cool
+I feel,&rdquo; said the boy, &ldquo;I must be getting better&rdquo;;
+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.&nbsp; &ldquo;It is curious,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;but
+I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That is because you have done a good action,&rdquo; said the
+Prince.&nbsp; And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell
+asleep.&nbsp; Thinking always made him sleepy.</p>
+<p>When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath.&nbsp; &ldquo;What
+a remarkable phenomenon,&rdquo; said the Professor of Ornithology as
+he was passing over the bridge.&nbsp; &ldquo;A swallow in winter!&rdquo;&nbsp;
+And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper.&nbsp; Every
+one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To-night I go to Egypt,&rdquo; said the Swallow, and he was
+in high spirits at the prospect.&nbsp; He visited all the public monuments,
+and sat a long time on top of the church steeple.&nbsp; Wherever he
+went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, &ldquo;What a distinguished
+stranger!&rdquo; so he enjoyed himself very much.</p>
+<p>When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.&nbsp; &ldquo;Have
+you any commissions for Egypt?&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;I am just starting.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;will you not stay with me one night longer?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am waited for in Egypt,&rdquo; answered the Swallow.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;To-morrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract.&nbsp;
+The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite
+throne sits the God Memnon.&nbsp; All night long he watches the stars,
+and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then
+he is silent.&nbsp; At noon the yellow lions come down to the water&rsquo;s
+edge to drink.&nbsp; They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar
+is louder than the roar of the cataract.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;far away across the city I see a young man in a garret.&nbsp;
+He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his
+side there is a bunch of withered violets.&nbsp; His hair is brown and
+crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy
+eyes.&nbsp; He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre,
+but he is too cold to write any more.&nbsp; There is no fire in the
+grate, and hunger has made him faint.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will wait with you one night longer,&rdquo; said the Swallow,
+who really had a good heart.&nbsp; &ldquo;Shall I take him another ruby?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Alas!&nbsp; I have no ruby now,&rdquo; said the Prince; &ldquo;my
+eyes are all that I have left.&nbsp; They are made of rare sapphires,
+which were brought out of India a thousand years ago.&nbsp; Pluck out
+one of them and take it to him.&nbsp; He will sell it to the jeweller,
+and buy food and firewood, and finish his play.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dear Prince,&rdquo; said the Swallow, &ldquo;I cannot do that&rdquo;;
+and he began to weep.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;do as I command you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So the Swallow plucked out the Prince&rsquo;s eye, and flew away
+to the student&rsquo;s garret.&nbsp; It was easy enough to get in, as
+there was a hole in the roof.&nbsp; Through this he darted, and came
+into the room.&nbsp; The young man had his head buried in his hands,
+so he did not hear the flutter of the bird&rsquo;s wings, and when he
+looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am beginning to be appreciated,&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;this
+is from some great admirer.&nbsp; Now I can finish my play,&rdquo; and
+he looked quite happy.</p>
+<p>The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour.&nbsp; He sat on
+the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests
+out of the hold with ropes.&nbsp; &ldquo;Heave a-hoy!&rdquo; they shouted
+as each chest came up.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am going to Egypt&rdquo;! cried
+the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back
+to the Happy Prince.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am come to bid you good-bye,&rdquo; he cried.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;will you not stay with me one night longer?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is winter,&rdquo; answered the Swallow, &ldquo;and the
+chill snow will soon be here.&nbsp; In Egypt the sun is warm on the
+green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily
+about them.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The ruby shall be redder
+than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In the square below,&rdquo; said the Happy Prince, &ldquo;there
+stands a little match-girl.&nbsp; She has let her matches fall in the
+gutter, and they are all spoiled.&nbsp; Her father will beat her if
+she does not bring home some money, and she is crying.&nbsp; She has
+no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare.&nbsp; Pluck out
+my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will stay with you one night longer,&rdquo; said the Swallow,
+&ldquo;but I cannot pluck out your eye.&nbsp; You would be quite blind
+then.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;do as I command you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So he plucked out the Prince&rsquo;s other eye, and darted down with
+it.&nbsp; He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into
+the palm of her hand.&nbsp; &ldquo;What a lovely bit of glass,&rdquo;
+cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.</p>
+<p>Then the Swallow came back to the Prince.&nbsp; &ldquo;You are blind
+now,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;so I will stay with you always.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No, little Swallow,&rdquo; said the poor Prince, &ldquo;you
+must go away to Egypt.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will stay with you always,&rdquo; said the Swallow, and
+he slept at the Prince&rsquo;s feet.</p>
+<p>All the next day he sat on the Prince&rsquo;s shoulder, and told
+him stories of what he had seen in strange lands.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Dear little Swallow,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;you tell
+me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering
+of men and of women.&nbsp; There is no Mystery so great as Misery.&nbsp;
+Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving
+children looking out listlessly at the black streets.&nbsp; Under the
+archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another&rsquo;s
+arms to try and keep themselves warm.&nbsp; &ldquo;How hungry we are!&rdquo;
+they said.&nbsp; &ldquo;You must not lie here,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;I am covered with fine gold,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;you
+must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always
+think that gold can make them happy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the
+Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey.&nbsp; Leaf after leaf of the
+fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children&rsquo;s faces grew
+rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street.&nbsp; &ldquo;We
+have bread now!&rdquo; they cried.</p>
+<p>Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; He picked up crumbs outside
+the baker&rsquo;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.&nbsp; He had just strength
+to fly up to the Prince&rsquo;s shoulder once more.&nbsp; &ldquo;Good-bye,
+dear Prince!&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;will you let me kiss your hand?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,&rdquo;
+said the Prince, &ldquo;you have stayed too long here; but you must
+kiss me on the lips, for I love you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is not to Egypt that I am going,&rdquo; said the Swallow.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;I am going to the House of Death.&nbsp; Death is the brother
+of Sleep, is he not?&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right
+in two.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; As they passed the column
+he looked up at the statue: &ldquo;Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince
+looks!&rdquo; he said.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How shabby indeed!&rdquo; cried the Town Councillors, who
+always agreed with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and
+he is golden no longer,&rdquo; said the Mayor in fact, &ldquo;he is
+litttle beter than a beggar!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Little better than a beggar,&rdquo; said the Town Councillors.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!&rdquo; continued
+the Mayor.&nbsp; &ldquo;We must really issue a proclamation that birds
+are not to be allowed to die here.&rdquo;&nbsp; And the Town Clerk made
+a note of the suggestion.</p>
+<p>So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince.&nbsp; &ldquo;As
+he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;We must have another statue, of course,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and
+it shall be a statue of myself.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of myself,&rdquo; said each of the Town Councillors, and they
+quarrelled.&nbsp; When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What a strange thing!&rdquo; said the overseer of the workmen
+at the foundry.&nbsp; &ldquo;This broken lead heart will not melt in
+the furnace.&nbsp; We must throw it away.&rdquo;&nbsp; So they threw
+it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Bring me the two most precious things in the city,&rdquo;
+said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden
+heart and the dead bird.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You have rightly chosen,&rdquo; said God, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div>
+<h2>THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE</h2>
+<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div>
+<p>&ldquo;She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red
+roses,&rdquo; cried the young Student; &ldquo;but in all my garden there
+is no red rose.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;No red rose in all my garden!&rdquo; he cried, and his beautiful
+eyes filled with tears.&nbsp; &ldquo;Ah, on what little things does
+happiness depend!&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Here at last is a true lover,&rdquo; said the Nightingale.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night,&rdquo; murmured the
+young Student, &ldquo;and my love will be of the company.&nbsp; If I
+bring her a red rose she will dance with me till dawn.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; But there
+is no red rose in my garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass
+me by.&nbsp; She will have no heed of me, and my heart will break.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Here indeed is the true lover,&rdquo; said the Nightingale.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;What I sing of, he suffers&mdash;what is joy to me, to him is
+pain.&nbsp; Surely Love is a wonderful thing.&nbsp; It is more precious
+than emeralds, and dearer than fine opals.&nbsp; Pearls and pomegranates
+cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the marketplace.&nbsp; It may
+not be purchased of the merchants, nor can it be weighed out in the
+balance for gold.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The musicians will sit in their gallery,&rdquo; said the young
+Student, &ldquo;and play upon their stringed instruments, and my love
+will dance to the sound of the harp and the violin.&nbsp; She will dance
+so lightly that her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers
+in their gay dresses will throng round her.&nbsp; But with me she will
+not dance, for I have no red rose to give her&rdquo;; and he flung himself
+down on the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why is he weeping?&rdquo; asked a little Green Lizard, as
+he ran past him with his tail in the air.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why, indeed?&rdquo; said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about
+after a sunbeam.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why, indeed?&rdquo; whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in
+a soft, low voice.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He is weeping for a red rose,&rdquo; said the Nightingale.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;For a red rose?&rdquo; they cried; &ldquo;how very ridiculous!&rdquo;
+and the little Lizard, who was something of a cynic, laughed outright.</p>
+<p>But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student&rsquo;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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Give me a red rose,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;and I will sing
+you my sweetest song.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My roses are white,&rdquo; it answered; &ldquo;as white as
+the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow upon the mountain.&nbsp;
+But go to my brother who grows round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he
+will give you what you want.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round
+the old sun-dial.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Give me a red rose,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;and I will sing
+you my sweetest song.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My roses are yellow,&rdquo; it answered; &ldquo;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.&nbsp; But go to my brother who grows beneath the Student&rsquo;s
+window, and perhaps he will give you what you want.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing beneath
+the Student&rsquo;s window.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Give me a red rose,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;and I will sing
+you my sweetest song.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My roses are red,&rdquo; it answered, &ldquo;as red as the
+feet of the dove, and redder than the great fans of coral that wave
+and wave in the ocean-cavern.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;One red rose is all I want,&rdquo; cried the Nightingale,
+&ldquo;only one red rose!&nbsp; Is there no way by which I can get it?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There is away,&rdquo; answered the Tree; &ldquo;but it is
+so terrible that I dare not tell it to you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Tell it to me,&rdquo; said the Nightingale, &ldquo;I am not
+afraid.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If you want a red rose,&rdquo; said the Tree, &ldquo;you must
+build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your own heart&rsquo;s-blood.&nbsp;
+You must sing to me with your breast against a thorn.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Death is a great price to pay for a red rose,&rdquo; cried
+the Nightingale, &ldquo;and Life is very dear to all.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Yet Love is better than Life,
+and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air.&nbsp;
+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>&ldquo;Be happy,&rdquo; cried the Nightingale, &ldquo;be happy; you
+shall have your red rose.&nbsp; I will build it out of music by moonlight,
+and stain it with my own heart&rsquo;s-blood.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Flame-coloured are his wings, and coloured like flame
+is his body.&nbsp; His lips are sweet as honey, and his breath is like
+frankincense.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Sing me one last song,&rdquo; he whispered; &ldquo;I shall
+feel very lonely when you are gone.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;She has form,&rdquo; he said to himself, as he walked away
+through the grove&mdash;&ldquo;that cannot be denied to her; but has
+she got feeling?&nbsp; I am afraid not.&nbsp; In fact, she is like most
+artists; she is all style, without any sincerity.&nbsp; She would not
+sacrifice herself for others.&nbsp; She thinks merely of music, and
+everybody knows that the arts are selfish.&nbsp; Still, it must be admitted
+that she has some beautiful notes in her voice.&nbsp; What a pity it
+is that they do not mean anything, or do any practical good.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; All night long
+she sang with her breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon
+leaned down and listened.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+And on the top-most spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvellous
+rose, petal following petal, as song followed song.&nbsp; Pale was it,
+at first, as the mist that hangs over the river&mdash;pale as the feet
+of the morning, and silver as the wings of the dawn.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; &ldquo;Press closer, little Nightingale,&rdquo; cried the
+Tree, &ldquo;or the Day will come before the rose is finished.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp; But the thorn had not yet reached her heart, so the rose&rsquo;s
+heart remained white, for only a Nightingale&rsquo;s heart&rsquo;s-blood
+can crimson the heart of a rose.</p>
+<p>And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the
+thorn.&nbsp; &ldquo;Press closer, little Nightingale,&rdquo; cried the
+Tree, &ldquo;or the Day will come before the rose is finished.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was
+the heart.</p>
+<p>But the Nightingale&rsquo;s voice grew fainter, and her little wings
+began to beat, and a film came over her eyes.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The white Moon heard
+it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in the sky.&nbsp; The red
+rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its
+petals to the cold morning air.&nbsp; Echo bore it to her purple cavern
+in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams.&nbsp;
+It floated through the reeds of the river, and they carried its message
+to the sea.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Look, look!&rdquo; cried the Tree, &ldquo;the rose is finished
+now&rdquo;; 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>&ldquo;Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;here
+is a red rose!&nbsp; I have never seen any rose like it in all my life.&nbsp;
+It is so beautiful that I am sure it has a long Latin name&rdquo;; and
+he leaned down and plucked it.</p>
+<p>Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professor&rsquo;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>&ldquo;You said that you would dance with me if I brought you a red
+rose,&rdquo; cried the Student.&nbsp; &ldquo;Here is the reddest rose
+in all the world.&nbsp; You will wear it to-night next your heart, and
+as we dance together it will tell you how I love you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But the girl frowned.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am afraid it will not go with my dress,&rdquo; she answered;
+&ldquo;and, besides, the Chamberlain&rsquo;s nephew has sent me some
+real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far more than flowers.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Ungrateful!&rdquo; said the girl.&nbsp; &ldquo;I tell you
+what, you are very rude; and, after all, who are you?&nbsp; Only a Student.&nbsp;
+Why, I don&rsquo;t believe you have even got silver buckles to your
+shoes as the Chamberlain&rsquo;s nephew has&rdquo;; and she got up from
+her chair and went into the house.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What I a silly thing Love is,&rdquo; said the Student as he
+walked away.&nbsp; &ldquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s garden.</p>
+<p>It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The birds
+sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop
+their games in order to listen to them.&nbsp; &ldquo;How happy we are
+here!&rdquo; they cried to each other.</p>
+<p>One day the Giant came back.&nbsp; He had been to visit his friend
+the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What are you doing here?&rdquo; he cried in a very gruff voice,
+and the children ran away.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My own garden is my own garden,&rdquo; said the Giant; &ldquo;any
+one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; They tried to play
+on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and
+they did not like it.&nbsp; They used to wander round the high wall
+when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;How happy we were there,&rdquo; they said to each other.</p>
+<p>Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little
+blossoms and little birds.&nbsp; Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant
+it was still winter.&nbsp; The birds did not care to sing in it as there
+were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The only people who were pleased
+were the Snow and the Frost.&nbsp; &ldquo;Spring has forgotten this
+garden,&rdquo; they cried, &ldquo;so we will live here all the year
+round.&rdquo;&nbsp; The Snow covered up the grass with her great white
+cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver.&nbsp; Then they invited
+the North Wind to stay with them, and he came.&nbsp; He was wrapped
+in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots
+down.&nbsp; &ldquo;This is a delightful spot,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we
+must ask the Hail on a visit.&rdquo;&nbsp; So the Hail came.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like
+ice.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,&rdquo;
+said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his
+cold white garden; &ldquo;I hope there will be a change in the weather.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But the Spring never came, nor the Summer.&nbsp; The Autumn gave
+golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant&rsquo;s garden she gave
+none.&nbsp; &ldquo;He is too selfish,&rdquo; she said.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must
+be the King&rsquo;s musicians passing by.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; &ldquo;I believe the Spring
+has come at last,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp; Through a little hole in the
+wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches
+of the trees.&nbsp; In every tree that he could see there was a little
+child.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s heads.&nbsp; The birds were flying
+about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through
+the green grass and laughing.&nbsp; It was a lovely scene, only in one
+corner it was still winter.&nbsp; It was the farthest corner of the
+garden, and in it was standing a little boy.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; The poor tree was still quite covered
+with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above
+it.&nbsp; &ldquo;Climb up! little boy,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s heart melted as he looked out.&nbsp; &ldquo;How
+selfish I have been!&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;now I know why the Spring
+would not come here.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s playground for ever and ever.&rdquo;&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; But when the children saw him they were
+so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again.&nbsp;
+Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears
+that he did not see the Giant coming.&nbsp; And the Giant stole up behind
+him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree.&nbsp;
+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&rsquo;s neck, and kissed him.&nbsp; And the other children,
+when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running
+back, and with them came the Spring.&nbsp; &ldquo;It is your garden
+now, little children,&rdquo; said the Giant, and he took a great axe
+and knocked down the wall.&nbsp; And when the people were going to market
+at twelve o&rsquo;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>&ldquo;But where is your little companion?&rdquo; he said: &ldquo;the
+boy I put into the tree.&rdquo;&nbsp; The Giant loved him the best because
+he had kissed him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; answered the children; &ldquo;he
+has gone away.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,&rdquo;
+said the Giant.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never
+seen again.&nbsp; The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he
+longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him.&nbsp; &ldquo;How
+I would like to see him!&rdquo; he used to say.</p>
+<p>Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+have many beautiful flowers,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but the children
+are the most beautiful flowers of all.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp;
+It certainly was a marvellous sight.&nbsp; In the farthest corner of
+the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp;
+He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child.&nbsp; And
+when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said,
+&ldquo;Who hath dared to wound thee?&rdquo;&nbsp; For on the palms of
+the child&rsquo;s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints
+of two nails were on the little feet.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Who hath dared to wound thee?&rdquo; cried the Giant; &ldquo;tell
+me, that I may take my big sword and slay him.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nay!&rdquo; answered the child; &ldquo;but these are the wounds
+of Love.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Who art thou?&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;You let
+me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden,
+which is Paradise.&rdquo;</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.&nbsp;
+He had bright beady eyes and stiff grey whiskers and his tail was like
+a long bit of black india-rubber.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;You will never be in the best society unless you can stand
+on your heads,&rdquo; she kept saying to them; and every now and then
+she showed them how it was done.&nbsp; But the little ducks paid no
+attention to her.&nbsp; They were so young that they did not know what
+an advantage it is to be in society at all.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What disobedient children!&rdquo; cried the old Water-rat;
+&ldquo;they really deserve to be drowned.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing of the kind,&rdquo; answered the Duck, &ldquo;every
+one must make a beginning, and parents cannot be too patient.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! I know nothing about the feelings of parents,&rdquo; said
+the Water-rat; &ldquo;I am not a family man.&nbsp; In fact, I have never
+been married, and I never intend to be.&nbsp; Love is all very well
+in its way, but friendship is much higher.&nbsp; Indeed, I know of nothing
+in the world that is either nobler or rarer than a devoted friendship.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And what, pray, is your idea of the duties of a devoted friend?&rdquo;
+asked a Green Linnet, who was sitting in a willow-tree hard by, and
+had overheard the conversation.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, that is just what I want to know,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;What a silly question!&rdquo; cried the Water-rat.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+should expect my devoted friend to be devoted to me, of course.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And what would you do in return?&rdquo; said the little bird,
+swinging upon a silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand you,&rdquo; answered the Water-rat.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let me tell you a story on the subject,&rdquo; said the Linnet.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Is the story about me?&rdquo; asked the Water-rat.&nbsp; &ldquo;If
+so, I will listen to it, for I am extremely fond of fiction.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is applicable to you,&rdquo; answered the Linnet; and he
+flew down, and alighting upon the bank, he told the story of The Devoted
+Friend.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Once upon a time,&rdquo; said the Linnet, &ldquo;there was
+an honest little fellow named Hans.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Was he very distinguished?&rdquo; asked the Water-rat.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered the Linnet, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think
+he was distinguished at all, except for his kind heart, and his funny
+round good-humoured face.&nbsp; He lived in a tiny cottage all by himself,
+and every day he worked in his garden.&nbsp; In all the country-side
+there was no garden so lovely as his.&nbsp; Sweet-william grew there,
+and Gilly-flowers, and Shepherds&rsquo;-purses, and Fair-maids of France.&nbsp;
+There were damask Roses, and yellow Roses, lilac Crocuses, and gold,
+purple Violets and white.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s place, so that there
+were always beautiful things to look at, and pleasant odours to smell.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Little Hans had a great many friends, but the most devoted
+friend of all was big Hugh the Miller.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;&lsquo;Real friends should have everything in common,&rsquo;
+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>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;So little Hans worked away in his garden.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; In the winter,
+also, he was extremely lonely, as the Miller never came to see him then.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;There is no good in my going to see little Hans as
+long as the snow lasts,&rsquo; the Miller used to say to his wife, &lsquo;for
+when people are in trouble they should be left alone, and not be bothered
+by visitors.&nbsp; That at least is my idea about friendship, and I
+am sure I am right.&nbsp; 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.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;You are certainly very thoughtful about others,&rsquo;
+answered the Wife, as she sat in her comfortable armchair by the big
+pinewood fire; &lsquo;very thoughtful indeed.&nbsp; It is quite a treat
+to hear you talk about friendship.&nbsp; 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.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;But could we not ask little Hans up here?&rsquo; said
+the Miller&rsquo;s youngest son.&nbsp; &lsquo;If poor Hans is in trouble
+I will give him half my porridge, and show him my white rabbits.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;What a silly boy you are&rsquo;! cried the Miller;
+&lsquo;I really don&rsquo;t know what is the use of sending you to school.&nbsp;
+You seem not to learn anything.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;s nature.&nbsp; I certainly will not allow Hans&rsquo;
+nature to be spoiled.&nbsp; I am his best friend, and I will always
+watch over him, and see that he is not led into any temptations.&nbsp;
+Besides, if Hans came here, he might ask me to let him have some flour
+on credit, and that I could not do.&nbsp; Flour is one thing, and friendship
+is another, and they should not be confused.&nbsp; Why, the words are
+spelt differently, and mean quite different things.&nbsp; Everybody
+can see that.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;How well you talk&rsquo;! said the Miller&rsquo;s Wife,
+pouring herself out a large glass of warm ale; &lsquo;really I feel
+quite drowsy.&nbsp; It is just like being in church.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Lots of people act well,&rsquo; answered the Miller;
+&lsquo;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&rsquo;;
+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.&nbsp; However, he was so young that you
+must excuse him.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Is that the end of the story?&rdquo; asked the Water-rat.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; answered the Linnet, &ldquo;that is
+the beginning.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then you are quite behind the age,&rdquo; said the Water-rat.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Every good story-teller nowadays starts with the end, and then
+goes on to the beginning, and concludes with the middle.&nbsp; That
+is the new method.&nbsp; I heard all about it the other day from a critic
+who was walking round the pond with a young man.&nbsp; 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 &lsquo;Pooh!&rsquo;&nbsp; But pray go
+on with your story.&nbsp; I like the Miller immensely.&nbsp; I have
+all kinds of beautiful sentiments myself, so there is a great sympathy
+between us.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the Linnet, hopping now on one leg and now
+on the other, &ldquo;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>&ldquo;&lsquo;Why, what a good heart you have&rsquo;! cried his Wife;
+&lsquo;you are always thinking of others.&nbsp; And mind you take the
+big basket with you for the flowers.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;&lsquo;Good morning, little Hans,&rsquo; said the Miller.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Good morning,&rsquo; said Hans, leaning on his spade,
+and smiling from ear to ear.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;And how have you been all the winter?&rsquo; said the
+Miller.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, really,&rsquo; cried Hans, &lsquo;it is very
+good of you to ask, very good indeed.&nbsp; 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.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;We often talked of you during the winter, Hans,&rsquo;
+said the Miller, &lsquo;and wondered how you were getting on.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;That was kind of you,&rsquo; said Hans; &lsquo;I was
+half afraid you had forgotten me.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Hans, I am surprised at you,&rsquo; said the Miller;
+&lsquo;friendship never forgets.&nbsp; That is the wonderful thing about
+it, but I am afraid you don&rsquo;t understand the poetry of life.&nbsp;
+How lovely your primroses are looking, by-the-bye&rdquo;!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;They are certainly very lovely,&rsquo; said Hans, &lsquo;and
+it is a most lucky thing for me that I have so many.&nbsp; I am going
+to bring them into the market and sell them to the Burgomaster&rsquo;s
+daughter, and buy back my wheelbarrow with the money.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Buy back your wheelbarrow?&nbsp; You don&rsquo;t mean
+to say you have sold it?&nbsp; What a very stupid thing to do&rsquo;!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, the fact is,&rsquo; said Hans, &lsquo;that I
+was obliged to.&nbsp; You see the winter was a very bad time for me,
+and I really had no money at all to buy bread with.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+But I am going to buy them all back again now.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Hans,&rsquo; said the Miller, &lsquo;I will give you
+my wheelbarrow.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; I think
+that generosity is the essence of friendship, and, besides, I have got
+a new wheelbarrow for myself.&nbsp; Yes, you may set your mind at ease,
+I will give you my wheelbarrow.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, really, that is generous of you,&rsquo; said
+little Hans, and his funny round face glowed all over with pleasure.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I can easily put it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in the
+house.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;A plank of wood&rsquo;! said the Miller; &lsquo;why,
+that is just what I want for the roof of my barn.&nbsp; There is a very
+large hole in it, and the corn will all get damp if I don&rsquo;t stop
+it up.&nbsp; How lucky you mentioned it!&nbsp; It is quite remarkable
+how one good action always breeds another.&nbsp; I have given you my
+wheelbarrow, and now you are going to give me your plank.&nbsp; Of course,
+the wheelbarrow is worth far more than the plank, but true, friendship
+never notices things like that.&nbsp; Pray get it at once, and I will
+set to work at my barn this very day.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Certainly,&rsquo; cried little Hans, and he ran into
+the shed and dragged the plank out.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;It is not a very big plank,&rsquo; said the Miller,
+looking at it, &lsquo;and I am afraid that after I have mended my barn-roof
+there won&rsquo;t be any left for you to mend the wheelbarrow with;
+but, of course, that is not my fault.&nbsp; And now, as I have given
+you my wheelbarrow, I am sure you would like to give me some flowers
+in return.&nbsp; Here is the basket, and mind you fill it quite full.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Quite full?&rsquo; 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>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, really,&rsquo; answered the Miller, &lsquo;as
+I have given you my wheelbarrow, I don&rsquo;t think that it is much
+to ask you for a few flowers.&nbsp; I may be wrong, but I should have
+thought that friendship, true friendship, was quite free from selfishness
+of any kind.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;My dear friend, my best friend,&rsquo; cried little
+Hans, &lsquo;you are welcome to all the flowers in my garden.&nbsp;
+I would much sooner have your good opinion than my silver buttons, any
+day&rsquo;; and he ran and plucked all his pretty primroses, and filled
+the Miller&rsquo;s basket.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Good-bye, little Hans,&rsquo; said the Miller, as he
+went up the hill with the plank on his shoulder, and the big basket
+in his hand.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Good-bye,&rsquo; said little Hans, and he began to
+dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The next day he was nailing up some honeysuckle against the
+porch, when he heard the Miller&rsquo;s voice calling to him from the
+road.&nbsp; So he jumped off the ladder, and ran down the garden, and
+looked over the wall.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There was the Miller with a large sack of flour on his back.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Dear little Hans,&rsquo; said the Miller, &lsquo;would
+you mind carrying this sack of flour for me to market?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Oh, I am so sorry,&rsquo; said Hans, &lsquo;but I am
+really very busy to-day.&nbsp; I have got all my creepers to nail up,
+and all my flowers to water, and all my grass to roll.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, really,&rsquo; said the Miller, &lsquo;I think
+that, considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, it is
+rather unfriendly of you to refuse.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t say that,&rsquo; cried little Hans,
+&lsquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t be unfriendly for the whole world&rsquo;; and
+he ran in for his cap, and trudged off with the big sack on his shoulders.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; However, he went on bravely, and as
+last he reached the market.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;&lsquo;It has certainly been a hard day,&rsquo; said little
+Hans to himself as he was going to bed, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;&lsquo;Upon my word,&rsquo; said the Miller, &lsquo;you are
+very lazy.&nbsp; Really, considering that I am going to give you my
+wheelbarrow, I think you might work harder.&nbsp; Idleness is a great
+sin, and I certainly don&rsquo;t like any of my friends to be idle or
+sluggish.&nbsp; You must not mind my speaking quite plainly to you.&nbsp;
+Of course I should not dream of doing so if I were not your friend.&nbsp;
+But what is the good of friendship if one cannot say exactly what one
+means?&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Indeed, if he is a really true friend he prefers
+it, for he knows that then he is doing good.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I am very sorry,&rsquo; said little Hans, rubbing his
+eyes and pulling off his night-cap, &lsquo;but I was so tired that I
+thought I would lie in bed for a little time, and listen to the birds
+singing.&nbsp; Do you know that I always work better after hearing the
+birds sing?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, I am glad of that,&rsquo; said the Miller, clapping
+little Hans on the back, &lsquo;for I want you to come up to the mill
+as soon as you are dressed, and mend my barn-roof for me.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;&lsquo;Do you think it would be unfriendly of me if I said
+I was busy?&rsquo; he inquired in a shy and timid voice.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, really,&rsquo; answered the Miller, &lsquo;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.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Oh! on no account,&rsquo; cried little Hans and he
+jumped out of bed, and dressed himself, and went up to the barn.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He worked there all day long, till sunset, and at sunset the
+Miller came to see how he was getting on.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Have you mended the hole in the roof yet, little Hans?&rsquo;
+cried the Miller in a cheery voice.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;It is quite mended,&rsquo; answered little Hans, coming
+down the ladder.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Ah&rsquo;! said the Miller, &lsquo;there is no work
+so delightful as the work one does for others.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;It is certainly a great privilege to hear you talk,&rsquo;
+answered little Hans, sitting down, and wiping his forehead, &lsquo;a
+very great privilege.&nbsp; But I am afraid I shall never have such
+beautiful ideas as you have.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Oh! they will come to you,&rsquo; said the Miller,
+&lsquo;but you must take more pains.&nbsp; At present you have only
+the practice of friendship; some day you will have the theory also.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Do you really think I shall?&rsquo; asked little Hans.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I have no doubt of it,&rsquo; answered the Miller,
+&lsquo;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.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;&lsquo;What a delightful time I shall have in my garden,&rsquo;
+he said, and he went to work at once.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; &lsquo;Besides,&rsquo; he
+used to say, &lsquo;he is going to give me his wheelbarrow, and that
+is an act of pure generosity.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;Now it happened that one evening little Hans was sitting by
+his fireside when a loud rap came at the door.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; But a second
+rap came, and then a third, louder than any of the others.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;It is some poor traveller,&rsquo; said little Hans
+to himself, and he ran to the door.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big
+stick in the other.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Dear little Hans,&rsquo; cried the Miller, &lsquo;I
+am in great trouble.&nbsp; My little boy has fallen off a ladder and
+hurt himself, and I am going for the Doctor.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Certainly,&rsquo; cried little Hans, &lsquo;I take
+it quite as a compliment your coming to me, and I will start off at
+once.&nbsp; But you must lend me your lantern, as the night is so dark
+that I am afraid I might fall into the ditch.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I am very sorry,&rsquo; answered the Miller, &lsquo;but
+it is my new lantern, and it would be a great loss to me if anything
+happened to it.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Well, never mind, I will do without it,&rsquo; 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>&ldquo;What a dreadful storm it was!&nbsp; The night was so black
+that little Hans could hardly see, and the wind was so strong that he
+could scarcely stand.&nbsp; However, he was very courageous, and after
+he had been walking about three hours, he arrived at the Doctor&rsquo;s
+house, and knocked at the door.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Who is there?&rsquo; cried the Doctor, putting his
+head out of his bedroom window.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Little Hans, Doctor.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;What do you want, little Hans?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The Miller&rsquo;s son has fallen from a ladder, and
+has hurt himself, and the Miller wants you to come at once.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;All right!&rsquo; 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&rsquo;s house, little Hans trudging
+behind him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Everybody went to little Hans&rsquo; funeral, as he was so
+popular, and the Miller was the chief mourner.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;As I was his best friend,&rsquo; said the Miller, &lsquo;it
+is only fair that I should have the best place&rsquo;; 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>&ldquo;&lsquo;Little Hans is certainly a great loss to every one,&rsquo;
+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>&ldquo;&lsquo;A great loss to me at any rate,&rsquo; answered the
+Miller; &lsquo;why, I had as good as given him my wheelbarrow, and now
+I really don&rsquo;t know what to do with it.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; I will certainly take care not to
+give away anything again.&nbsp; One always suffers for being generous.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said the Water-rat, after a long pause.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that is the end,&rdquo; said the Linnet.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But what became of the Miller?&rdquo; asked the Water-rat.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&nbsp; I really don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; replied the Linnet;
+&ldquo;and I am sure that I don&rsquo;t care.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is quite evident then that you have no sympathy in your
+nature,&rdquo; said the Water-rat.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am afraid you don&rsquo;t quite see the moral of the story,&rdquo;
+remarked the Linnet.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The what?&rdquo; screamed the Water-rat.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The moral.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you mean to say that the story has a moral?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said the Linnet.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, really,&rdquo; said the Water-rat, in a very angry manner,
+&ldquo;I think you should have told me that before you began.&nbsp;
+If you had done so, I certainly would not have listened to you; in fact,
+I should have said &lsquo;Pooh,&rsquo; like the critic.&nbsp; However,
+I can say it now&rdquo;; so he shouted out &ldquo;Pooh&rdquo; at the
+top of his voice, gave a whisk with his tail, and went back into his
+hole.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And how do you like the Water-rat?&rdquo; asked the Duck,
+who came paddling up some minutes afterwards.&nbsp; &ldquo;He has a
+great many good points, but for my own part I have a mother&rsquo;s
+feelings, and I can never look at a confirmed bachelor without the tears
+coming into my eyes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am rather afraid that I have annoyed him,&rdquo; answered
+the Linnet.&nbsp; &ldquo;The fact is, that I told him a story with a
+moral.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! that is always a very dangerous thing to do,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s son was going to be married, so there were general
+rejoicings.&nbsp; He had waited a whole year for his bride, and at last
+she had arrived.&nbsp; She was a Russian Princess, and had driven all
+the way from Finland in a sledge drawn by six reindeer.&nbsp; The sledge
+was shaped like a great golden swan, and between the swan&rsquo;s wings
+lay the little Princess herself.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+So pale was she that as she drove through the streets all the people
+wondered.&nbsp; &ldquo;She is like a white rose!&rdquo; 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.&nbsp;
+He had dreamy violet eyes, and his hair was like fine gold.&nbsp; When
+he saw her he sank upon one knee, and kissed her hand.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your picture was beautiful,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;but
+you are more beautiful than your picture&rdquo;; and the little Princess
+blushed.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;She was like a white rose before,&rdquo; said a young Page
+to his neighbour, &ldquo;but she is like a red rose now&rdquo;; and
+the whole Court was delighted.</p>
+<p>For the next three days everybody went about saying, &ldquo;White
+rose, Red rose, Red rose, White rose&rdquo;; and the King gave orders
+that the Page&rsquo;s salary was to be doubled.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+It was a magnificent ceremony, and the bride and bridegroom walked hand
+in hand under a canopy of purple velvet embroidered with little pearls.&nbsp;
+Then there was a State Banquet, which lasted for five hours.&nbsp; The
+Prince and Princess sat at the top of the Great Hall and drank out of
+a cup of clear crystal.&nbsp; Only true lovers could drink out of this
+cup, for if false lips touched it, it grew grey and dull and cloudy.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s quite clear that they love each other,&rdquo; said
+the little Page, &ldquo;as clear as crystal!&rdquo; and the King doubled
+his salary a second time.&nbsp; &ldquo;What an honour!&rdquo; cried
+all the courtiers.</p>
+<p>After the banquet there was to be a Ball.&nbsp; The bride and bridegroom
+were to dance the Rose-dance together, and the King had promised to
+play the flute.&nbsp; He played very badly, but no one had ever dared
+to tell him so, because he was the King.&nbsp; 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, &ldquo;Charming!
+charming!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The last item on the programme was a grand display of fireworks,
+to be let off exactly at midnight.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;What are fireworks like?&rdquo; she had asked the Prince,
+one morning, as she was walking on the terrace.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;They are like the Aurora Borealis,&rdquo; said the King, who
+always answered questions that were addressed to other people, &ldquo;only
+much more natural.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; You must certainly see them.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So at the end of the King&rsquo;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>&ldquo;The world is certainly very beautiful,&rdquo; cried a little
+Squib.&nbsp; &ldquo;Just look at those yellow tulips.&nbsp; Why! if
+they were real crackers they could not be lovelier.&nbsp; I am very
+glad I have travelled.&nbsp; Travel improves the mind wonderfully, and
+does away with all one&rsquo;s prejudices.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The King&rsquo;s garden is not the world, you foolish squib,&rdquo;
+said a big Roman Candle; &ldquo;the world is an enormous place, and
+it would take you three days to see it thoroughly.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Any place you love is the world to you,&rdquo; exclaimed a
+pensive Catherine Wheel, who had been attached to an old deal box in
+early life, and prided herself on her broken heart; &ldquo;but love
+is not fashionable any more, the poets have killed it.&nbsp; They wrote
+so much about it that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised.&nbsp;
+True love suffers, and is silent.&nbsp; I remember myself once&mdash;But
+it is no matter now.&nbsp; Romance is a thing of the past.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; said the Roman Candle, &ldquo;Romance never
+dies.&nbsp; It is like the moon, and lives for ever.&nbsp; The bride
+and bridegroom, for instance, love each other very dearly.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But the Catherine Wheel shook her head.&nbsp; &ldquo;Romance is dead,
+Romance is dead, Romance is dead,&rdquo; she murmured.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; He always coughed before he made any
+observation, so as to attract attention.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ahem! ahem!&rdquo; he said, and everybody listened except
+the poor Catherine Wheel, who was still shaking her head, and murmuring,
+&ldquo;Romance is dead.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Order! order!&rdquo; cried out a Cracker.&nbsp; 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>&ldquo;Quite dead,&rdquo; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; In fact, he had a most distinguished
+manner.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How fortunate it is for the King&rsquo;s son,&rdquo; he remarked,
+&ldquo;that he is to be married on the very day on which I am to be
+let off.&nbsp; Really, if it had been arranged beforehand, it could
+not have turned out better for him; but, Princes are always lucky.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; said the little Squib, &ldquo;I thought it
+was quite the other way, and that we were to be let off in the Prince&rsquo;s
+honour.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It may be so with you,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;indeed,
+I have no doubt that it is, but with me it is different.&nbsp; I am
+a very remarkable Rocket, and come of remarkable parents.&nbsp; My mother
+was the most celebrated Catherine Wheel of her day, and was renowned
+for her graceful dancing.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; She was three
+feet and a half in diameter, and made of the very best gunpowder.&nbsp;
+My father was a Rocket like myself, and of French extraction.&nbsp;
+He flew so high that the people were afraid that he would never come
+down again.&nbsp; He did, though, for he was of a kindly disposition,
+and he made a most brilliant descent in a shower of golden rain.&nbsp;
+The newspapers wrote about his performance in very flattering terms.&nbsp;
+Indeed, the Court Gazette called him a triumph of Pylotechnic art.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean,&rdquo; said a Bengal Light;
+&ldquo;I know it is Pyrotechnic, for I saw it written on my own canister.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I said Pylotechnic,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;I was saying,&rdquo; continued the Rocket, &ldquo;I was saying&mdash;What
+was I saying?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You were talking about yourself,&rdquo; replied the Roman
+Candle.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of course; I knew I was discussing some interesting subject
+when I was so rudely interrupted.&nbsp; I hate rudeness and bad manners
+of every kind, for I am extremely sensitive.&nbsp; No one in the whole
+world is so sensitive as I am, I am quite sure of that.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What is a sensitive person?&rdquo; said the Cracker to the
+Roman Candle.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A person who, because he has corns himself, always treads
+on other people&rsquo;s toes,&rdquo; answered the Roman Candle in a
+low whisper; and the Cracker nearly exploded with laughter.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Pray, what are you laughing at?&rdquo; inquired the Rocket;
+&ldquo;I am not laughing.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am laughing because I am happy,&rdquo; replied the Cracker.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That is a very selfish reason,&rdquo; said the Rocket angrily.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;What right have you to be happy?&nbsp; You should be thinking
+about others.&nbsp; In fact, you should be thinking about me.&nbsp;
+I am always thinking about myself, and I expect everybody else to do
+the same.&nbsp; That is what is called sympathy.&nbsp; It is a beautiful
+virtue, and I possess it in a high degree.&nbsp; Suppose, for instance,
+anything happened to me to-night, what a misfortune that would be for
+every one!&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; Really, when I begin to reflect on the
+importance of my position, I am almost moved to tears.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If you want to give pleasure to others,&rdquo; cried the Roman
+Candle, &ldquo;you had better keep yourself dry.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; exclaimed the Bengal Light, who was now
+in better spirits; &ldquo;that is only common sense.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Common sense, indeed!&rdquo; said the Rocket indignantly;
+&ldquo;you forget that I am very uncommon, and very remarkable.&nbsp;
+Why, anybody can have common sense, provided that they have no imagination.&nbsp;
+But I have imagination, for I never think of things as they really are;
+I always think of them as being quite different.&nbsp; As for keeping
+myself dry, there is evidently no one here who can at all appreciate
+an emotional nature.&nbsp; Fortunately for myself, I don&rsquo;t care.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; But none of you have any hearts.&nbsp;
+Here you are laughing and making merry just as if the Prince and Princess
+had not just been married.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, really,&rdquo; exclaimed a small Fire-balloon, &ldquo;why
+not?&nbsp; It is a most joyful occasion, and when I soar up into the
+air I intend to tell the stars all about it.&nbsp; You will see them
+twinkle when I talk to them about the pretty bride.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! what a trivial view of life!&rdquo; said the Rocket; &ldquo;but
+it is only what I expected.&nbsp; There is nothing in you; you are hollow
+and empty.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+What a terrible misfortune!&nbsp; Poor people, to lose their only son!&nbsp;
+It is really too dreadful!&nbsp; I shall never get over it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But they have not lost their only son,&rdquo; said the Roman
+Candle; &ldquo;no misfortune has happened to them at all.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I never said that they had,&rdquo; replied the Rocket; &ldquo;I
+said that they might.&nbsp; If they had lost their only son there would
+be no use in saying anything more about the matter.&nbsp; I hate people
+who cry over spilt milk.&nbsp; But when I think that they might lose
+their only son, I certainly am very much affected.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You certainly are!&rdquo; cried the Bengal Light.&nbsp; &ldquo;In
+fact, you are the most affected person I ever met.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are the rudest person I ever met,&rdquo; said the Rocket,
+&ldquo;and you cannot understand my friendship for the Prince.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why, you don&rsquo;t even know him,&rdquo; growled the Roman
+Candle.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I never said I knew him,&rdquo; answered the Rocket.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;I dare say that if I knew him I should not be his friend at all.&nbsp;
+It is a very dangerous thing to know one&rsquo;s friends.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You had really better keep yourself dry,&rdquo; said the Fire-balloon.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;That is the important thing.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Very important for you, I have no doubt,&rdquo; answered the
+Rocket, &ldquo;but I shall weep if I choose&rdquo;; 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>&ldquo;He must have a truly romantic nature,&rdquo; said the Catherine
+Wheel, &ldquo;for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about&rdquo;;
+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, &ldquo;Humbug! humbug!&rdquo; at the top of their voices.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp; 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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Let the fireworks begin,&rdquo; said the King; and the Royal
+Pyrotechnist made a low bow, and marched down to the end of the garden.&nbsp;
+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.&nbsp;
+Boom!&nbsp; Boom! went the Roman Candle.&nbsp; Then the Squibs danced
+all over the place, and the Bengal Lights made everything look scarlet.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Good-bye,&rdquo; cried the Fire-balloon, as he soared away, dropping
+tiny blue sparks.&nbsp; Bang! Bang! answered the Crackers, who were
+enjoying themselves immensely.&nbsp; Every one was a great success except
+the Remarkable Rocket.&nbsp; He was so damp with crying that he could
+not go off at all.&nbsp; The best thing in him was the gunpowder, and
+that was so wet with tears that it was of no use.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp;
+Huzza! Huzza! cried the Court; and the little Princess laughed with
+pleasure.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose they are reserving me for some grand occasion,&rdquo;
+said the Rocket; &ldquo;no doubt that is what it means,&rdquo; and he
+looked more supercilious than ever.</p>
+<p>The next day the workmen came to put everything tidy.&nbsp; &ldquo;This
+is evidently a deputation,&rdquo; said the Rocket; &ldquo;I will receive
+them with becoming dignity&rdquo; so he put his nose in the air, and
+began to frown severely as if he were thinking about some very important
+subject.&nbsp; But they took no notice of him at all till they were
+just going away.&nbsp; Then one of them caught sight of him.&nbsp; &ldquo;Hallo!&rdquo;
+he cried, &ldquo;what a bad rocket!&rdquo; and he threw him over the
+wall into the ditch.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;BAD Rocket?&nbsp; BAD Rocket?&rdquo; he said, as he whirled
+through the air; &ldquo;impossible!&nbsp; GRAND Rocket, that is what
+the man said.&nbsp; BAD and GRAND sound very much the same, indeed they
+often are the same&rdquo;; and he fell into the mud.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is not comfortable here,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;but
+no doubt it is some fashionable watering-place, and they have sent me
+away to recruit my health.&nbsp; My nerves are certainly very much shattered,
+and I require rest.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled
+coat, swam up to him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A new arrival, I see!&rdquo; said the Frog.&nbsp; &ldquo;Well,
+after all there is nothing like mud.&nbsp; Give me rainy weather and
+a ditch, and I am quite happy.&nbsp; Do you think it will be a wet afternoon?&nbsp;
+I am sure I hope so, but the sky is quite blue and cloudless.&nbsp;
+What a pity!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ahem! ahem!&rdquo; said the Rocket, and he began to cough.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What a delightful voice you have!&rdquo; cried the Frog.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Really it is quite like a croak, and croaking is of course the
+most musical sound in the world.&nbsp; You will hear our glee-club this
+evening.&nbsp; We sit in the old duck pond close by the farmer&rsquo;s
+house, and as soon as the moon rises we begin.&nbsp; It is so entrancing
+that everybody lies awake to listen to us.&nbsp; In fact, it was only
+yesterday that I heard the farmer&rsquo;s wife say to her mother that
+she could not get a wink of sleep at night on account of us.&nbsp; It
+is most gratifying to find oneself so popular.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ahem! ahem!&rdquo; said the Rocket angrily.&nbsp; He was very
+much annoyed that he could not get a word in.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A delightful voice, certainly,&rdquo; continued the Frog;
+&ldquo;I hope you will come over to the duck-pond.&nbsp; I am off to
+look for my daughters.&nbsp; I have six beautiful daughters, and I am
+so afraid the Pike may meet them.&nbsp; He is a perfect monster, and
+would have no hesitation in breakfasting off them.&nbsp; Well, good-bye:
+I have enjoyed our conversation very much, I assure you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Conversation, indeed!&rdquo; said the Rocket.&nbsp; &ldquo;You
+have talked the whole time yourself.&nbsp; That is not conversation.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Somebody must listen,&rdquo; answered the Frog, &ldquo;and
+I like to do all the talking myself.&nbsp; It saves time, and prevents
+arguments.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But I like arguments,&rdquo; said the Rocket.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I hope not,&rdquo; said the Frog complacently.&nbsp; &ldquo;Arguments
+are extremely vulgar, for everybody in good society holds exactly the
+same opinions.&nbsp; Good-bye a second time; I see my daughters in the
+distance and the little Frog swam away.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are a very irritating person,&rdquo; said the Rocket,
+&ldquo;and very ill-bred.&nbsp; I hate people who talk about themselves,
+as you do, when one wants to talk about oneself, as I do.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; In fact, you should take example by me; you
+could not possibly have a better model.&nbsp; Now that you have the
+chance you had better avail yourself of it, for I am going back to Court
+almost immediately.&nbsp; I am a great favourite at Court; in fact,
+the Prince and Princess were married yesterday in my honour.&nbsp; Of
+course you know nothing of these matters, for you are a provincial.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There is no good talking to him,&rdquo; said a Dragon-fly,
+who was sitting on the top of a large brown bulrush; &ldquo;no good
+at all, for he has gone away.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that is his loss, not mine,&rdquo; answered the Rocket.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;I am not going to stop talking to him merely because he pays
+no attention.&nbsp; I like hearing myself talk.&nbsp; It is one of my
+greatest pleasures.&nbsp; I often have long conversations all by myself,
+and I am so clever that sometimes I don&rsquo;t understand a single
+word of what I am saying.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Then you should certainly lecture on Philosophy,&rdquo; said
+the Dragon-fly; and he spread a pair of lovely gauze wings and soared
+away into the sky.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How very silly of him not to stay here!&rdquo; said the Rocket.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;I am sure that he has not often got such a chance of improving
+his mind.&nbsp; However, I don&rsquo;t care a bit.&nbsp; Genius like
+mine is sure to be appreciated some day&rdquo;; and he sank down a little
+deeper into the mud.</p>
+<p>After some time a large White Duck swam up to him.&nbsp; She had
+yellow legs, and webbed feet, and was considered a great beauty on account
+of her waddle.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Quack, quack, quack,&rdquo; she said.&nbsp; &ldquo;What a
+curious shape you are!&nbsp; May I ask were you born like that, or is
+it the result of an accident?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is quite evident that you have always lived in the country,&rdquo;
+answered the Rocket, &ldquo;otherwise you would know who I am.&nbsp;
+However, I excuse your ignorance.&nbsp; It would be unfair to expect
+other people to be as remarkable as oneself.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think much of that,&rdquo; said the Duck, &ldquo;as
+I cannot see what use it is to any one.&nbsp; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My good creature,&rdquo; cried the Rocket in a very haughty
+tone of voice, &ldquo;I see that you belong to the lower orders.&nbsp;
+A person of my position is never useful.&nbsp; We have certain accomplishments,
+and that is more than sufficient.&nbsp; I have no sympathy myself with
+industry of any kind, least of all with such industries as you seem
+to recommend.&nbsp; Indeed, I have always been of opinion that hard
+work is simply the refuge of people who have nothing whatever to do.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; said the Duck, who was of a very peaceable
+disposition, and never quarrelled with any one, &ldquo;everybody has
+different tastes.&nbsp; I hope, at any rate, that you are going to take
+up your residence here.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! dear no,&rdquo; cried the Rocket.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am merely
+a visitor, a distinguished visitor.&nbsp; The fact is that I find this
+place rather tedious.&nbsp; There is neither society here, nor solitude.&nbsp;
+In fact, it is essentially suburban.&nbsp; I shall probably go back
+to Court, for I know that I am destined to make a sensation in the world.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I had thoughts of entering public life once myself,&rdquo;
+remarked the Duck; &ldquo;there are so many things that need reforming.&nbsp;
+Indeed, I took the chair at a meeting some time ago, and we passed resolutions
+condemning everything that we did not like.&nbsp; However, they did
+not seem to have much effect.&nbsp; Now I go in for domesticity, and
+look after my family.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;&ldquo;I am made for public life,&rdquo; said the Rocket, &ldquo;and
+so are all my relations, even the humblest of them.&nbsp; Whenever we
+appear we excite great attention.&nbsp; I have not actually appeared
+myself, but when I do so it will be a magnificent sight.&nbsp; As for
+domesticity, it ages one rapidly, and distracts one&rsquo;s mind from
+higher things.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! the higher things of life, how fine they are!&rdquo; said
+the Duck; &ldquo;and that reminds me how hungry I feel&rdquo;: and she
+swam away down the stream, saying, &ldquo;Quack, quack, quack.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Come back! come back!&rdquo; screamed the Rocket, &ldquo;I
+have a great deal to say to you&rdquo;; but the Duck paid no attention
+to him.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am glad that she has gone,&rdquo; he said to
+himself, &ldquo;she has a decidedly middle-class mind&rdquo;; 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>&ldquo;This must be the deputation,&rdquo; said the Rocket, and he
+tried to look very dignified.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hallo!&rdquo; cried one of the boys, &ldquo;look at this old
+stick!&nbsp; I wonder how it came here&rdquo;; and he picked the rocket
+out of the ditch.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;OLD Stick!&rdquo; said the Rocket, &ldquo;impossible!&nbsp;
+GOLD Stick, that is what he said.&nbsp; Gold Stick is very complimentary.&nbsp;
+In fact, he mistakes me for one of the Court dignitaries!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let us put it into the fire!&rdquo; said the other boy, &ldquo;it
+will help to boil the kettle.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and
+lit the fire.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This is magnificent,&rdquo; cried the Rocket, &ldquo;they
+are going to let me off in broad day-light, so that every one can see
+me.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We will go to sleep now,&rdquo; they said, &ldquo;and when
+we wake up the kettle will be boiled&rdquo;; 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.&nbsp; At
+last, however, the fire caught him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Now I am going off!&rdquo; he cried, and he made himself very
+stiff and straight.&nbsp; &ldquo;I know I shall go much higher than
+the stars, much higher than the moon, much higher than the sun.&nbsp;
+In fact, I shall go so high that&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Fizz! Fizz! Fizz! and he went straight up into the air.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Delightful!&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;I shall go on like this
+for ever.&nbsp; What a success I am!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But nobody saw him.</p>
+<p>Then he began to feel a curious tingling sensation all over him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Now I am going to explode,&rdquo; he cried.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+shall set the whole world on fire, and make such a noise that nobody
+will talk about anything else for a whole year.&rdquo;&nbsp; And he
+certainly did explode.&nbsp; Bang! Bang! Bang! went the gunpowder.&nbsp;
+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>&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; cried the Goose.&nbsp; &ldquo;It is going
+to rain sticks&rdquo;; and she rushed into the water.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I knew I should create a great sensation,&rdquo; 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>
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