the knife trembled in the hand of the little mermaid: then she flung
it far away from her into the waves; the water turned red where it
fell, and the drops that spurted up looked like blood. She cast one
more lingering, half-fainting glance at the prince, and then threw
herself from the ship into the sea, and thought her body was
dissolving into foam. The sun rose above the waves, and his warm
rays fell on the cold foam of the little mermaid, who did not feel
as if she were dying. She saw the bright sun, and all around her
floated hundreds of transparent beautiful beings; she could see
through them the white sails of the ship, and the red clouds in the
sky; their speech was melodious, but too ethereal to be heard by
mortal ears, as they were also unseen by mortal eyes. The little
mermaid perceived that she had a body like theirs, and that she
continued to rise higher and higher out of the foam. "Where am I?"
asked she, and her voice sounded ethereal, as the voice of those who
were with her; no earthly music could imitate it.
"Among the daughters of the air," answered one of them. "A mermaid
has not an immortal soul, nor can she obtain one unless she wins the
love of a human being. On the power of another hangs her eternal
destiny. But the daughters of the air, although they do not possess an
immortal soul, can, by their good deeds, procure one for themselves.
We fly to warm countries, and cool the sultry air that destroys
mankind with the pestilence. We carry the perfume of the flowers to
spread health and restoration. After we have striven for three hundred
years to all the good in our power, we receive an immortal soul and
take part in the happiness of mankind. You, poor little mermaid,
have tried with your whole heart to do as we are doing; you have
suffered and endured and raised yourself to the spirit-world by your
good deeds; and now, by striving for three hundred years in the same
way, you may obtain an immortal soul."
The little mermaid lifted her glorified eyes towards the sun,
and felt them, for the first time, filling with tears. On the ship, in
which she had left the prince, there were life and noise; she saw
him and his beautiful bride searching for her; sorrowfully they
gazed at the pearly foam, as if they knew she had thrown herself
into the waves. Unseen she kissed the forehead of her bride, and
fanned the prince, and then mounted with the other children of the air
to a rosy cloud that floated through the aether.
"After three hundred years, thus shall we float into the kingdom
of heaven," said she. "And we may even get there sooner," whispered
one of her companions. "Unseen we can enter the houses of men, where
there are children, and for every day on which we find a good child,
who is the joy of his parents and deserves their love, our time of
probation is shortened. The child does not know, when we fly through
the room, that we smile with joy at his good conduct, for we can count
one year less of our three hundred years. But when we see a naughty or
a wicked child, we shed tears of sorrow, and for every tear a day is
added to our time of trial!"
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE LOVELIEST ROSE IN THE WORLD
by Hans Christian Andersen
THERE lived once a great queen, in whose garden were found at
all seasons the most splendid flowers, and from every land in the
world. She specially loved roses, and therefore she possessed the most
beautiful varieties of this flower, from the wild hedge-rose, with its
apple-scented leaves, to the splendid Provence rose. They grew near
the shelter of the walls, wound themselves round columns and
window-frames, crept along passages and over the ceilings of the
halls. They were of every fragrance and color.
But care and sorrow dwelt within these halls; the queen lay upon a
sick bed, and the doctors declared that she must die. "There is
still one thing that could save her," said one of the wisest among
them. "Bring her the loveliest rose in the world; one which exhibits
the purest and brightest love, and if it is brought to her before
her eyes close, she will not die."
Then from all parts came those who brought roses that bloomed in
every garden, but they were not the right sort. The flower must be one
from the garden of love; but which of the roses there showed forth the
highest and purest love? The poets sang of this rose, the loveliest in
the world, and each named one which he considered worthy of that
title; and intelligence of what was required was sent far and wide
to every heart that beat with love; to every class, age, and
condition.
"No one has yet named the flower," said the wise man. "No one
has pointed out the spot where it blooms in all its splendor. It is
not a rose from the coffin of Romeo and Juliet, or from the grave of
Walburg, though these roses will live in everlasting song. It is not
one of the roses which sprouted forth from the blood-stained fame of
Winkelreid. The blood which flows from the breast of a hero who dies
for his country is sacred, and his memory is sweet, and no rose can be
redder than the blood which flows from his veins. Neither is it the
magic flower of Science, to obtain which wondrous flower a man devotes
many an hour of his fresh young life in sleepless nights, in a
lonely chamber."
"I know where it blooms," said a happy mother, who came with her
lovely child to the bedside of the queen. "I know where the
loveliest rose in the world is. It is seen on the blooming cheeks of
my sweet child, when it expresses the pure and holy love of infancy;
when refreshed by sleep it opens its eyes, and smiles upon me with
childlike affection."
"This is a lovely rose," said the wise man; "but there is one
still more lovely."
"Yes, one far more lovely," said one of the women. "I have seen
it, and a loftier and purer rose does not bloom. But it was white,
like the leaves of a blush-rose. I saw it on the cheeks of the
queen. She had taken off her golden crown, and through the long,
dreary night, she carried her sick child in her arms. She wept over
it, kissed it, and prayed for it as only a mother can pray in that
hour of her anguish."
"Holy and wonderful in its might is the white rose of grief, but
it is not the one we seek."
"No; the loveliest rose in the world I saw at the Lord's table,"
said the good old bishop. "I saw it shine as if an angel's face had
appeared. A young maiden knelt at the altar, and renewed the vows made
at her baptism; and there were white roses and red roses on the
blushing cheeks of that young girl. She looked up to heaven with all
the purity and love of her young spirit, in all the expression of
the highest and purest love."
"May she be blessed!" said the wise man: "but no one has yet named
the loveliest rose in the world."
Then there came into the room a child- the queen's little son.
Tears stood in his eyes, and glistened on his cheeks; he carried a
great book and the binding was of velvet, with silver clasps.
"Mother," cried the little boy; "only hear what I have read." And
the child seated himself by the bedside, and read from the book of Him
who suffered death on the cross to save all men, even who are yet
unborn. He read, "Greater love hath no man than this," and as he
read a roseate hue spread over the cheeks of the queen, and her eyes
became so enlightened and clear, that she saw from the leaves of the
book a lovely rose spring forth, a type of Him who shed His blood on
the cross.
"I see it," she said. "He who beholds this, the loveliest rose
on earth, shall never die."
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE MAIL-COACH PASSENGERS
by Hans Christian Andersen
IT was bitterly cold, the sky glittered with stars, and not a
breeze stirred. "Bump"- an old pot was thrown at a neighbor's door;
and "bang, bang," went the guns; for they were greeting the New
Year. It was New Year's Eve, and the church clock was striking twelve.
"Tan-ta-ra-ra, tan-ta-ra-ra," sounded the horn, and the mail-coach
came lumbering up. The clumsy vehicle stopped at the gate of the town;
all the places had been taken, for there were twelve passengers in the
coach.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried the people in the town; for in every house
the New Year was being welcomed; and as the clock struck, they stood
up, the full glasses in their hands, to drink success to the new
comer. "A happy New Year," was the cry; "a pretty wife, plenty of
money, and no sorrow or care."
The wish passed round, and the glasses clashed together till
they rang again; while before the town-gate the mail coach stopped
with the twelve strange passengers. And who were these strangers? Each
of them had his passport and his luggage with him; they even brought
presents for me, and for you, and for all the people in the town. "Who
were they? what did they want? and what did they bring with them?"
"Good-morning," they cried to the sentry at the town-gate.
"Good-morning," replied the sentry; for the clock had struck
twelve. "Your name and profession?" asked the sentry of the one who
alighted first from the carriage.
"See for yourself in the passport," he replied. "I am myself;" and
a famous fellow he looked, arrayed in bear-skin and fur boots. "I am
the man on whom many persons fix their hopes. Come to me to-morrow,
and I'll give you a New Year's present. I throw shillings and pence
among the people; I give balls, no less than thirty-one; indeed,
that is the highest number I can spare for balls. My ships are often
frozen in, but in my offices it is warm and comfortable. My name is
JANUARY. I'm a merchant, and I generally bring my accounts with me."
Then the second alighted. He seemed a merry fellow. He was a
director of a theatre, a manager of masked balls, and a leader of
all the amusements we can imagine. His luggage consisted of a great
cask.
"We'll dance the bung out of the cask at carnival time," said
he; "I'll prepare a merry tune for you and for myself too.
Unfortunately I have not long to live- the shortest time, in fact,
of my whole family- only twenty-eight days. Sometimes they pop me in a
day extra; but I trouble myself very little about that. Hurrah!"
"You must not shout so," said the sentry.
"Certainly I may shout," retorted the man; "I'm Prince Carnival,
travelling under the name of FEBRUARY."
The third now got out. He looked a personification of fasting; but
he carried his nose very high, for he was related to the "forty
(k)nights," and was a weather prophet. But that is not a very
lucrative office, and therefore he praised fasting. In his button-hole
he carried a little bunch of violets, but they were very small.
"MARCH, March," the fourth called after him, slapping him on the
shoulder, "don't you smell something? Make haste into the guard
room; they're drinking punch there; that's your favorite drink. I
can smell it out here already. Forward, Master March." But it was
not true; the speaker only wanted to remind him of his name, and to
make an APRIL fool of him; for with that fun the fourth generally
began his career. He looked very jovial, did little work, and had
the more holidays. "If the world were only a little more settled,"
said he: "but sometimes I'm obliged to be in a good humor, and
sometimes a bad one, according to circumstances; now rain, now
sunshine. I'm kind of a house agent, also a manager of funerals. I can
laugh or cry, according to circumstances. I have my summer wardrobe in
this box here, but it would be very foolish to put it on now. Here I
am. On Sundays I go out walking in shoes and white silk stockings, and
a muff."
After him, a lady stepped out of the coach. She called herself
Miss MAY. She wore a summer dress and overshoes; her dress was a light
green, and she wore anemones in her hair. She was so scented with
wild-thyme, that it made the sentry sneeze.
"Your health, and God bless you," was her salutation to him.
How pretty she was! and such a singer! not a theatre singer, nor a
ballad singer; no, but a singer of the woods; for she wandered through
the gay green forest, and had a concert there for her own amusement.
"Now comes the young lady," said those in the carriage; and out
stepped a young dame, delicate, proud, and pretty. It was Mistress
JUNE, in whose service people become lazy and fond of sleeping for
hours. She gives a feast on the longest day of the year, that there
may be time for her guests to partake of the numerous dishes at her
table. Indeed, she keeps her own carriage; but still she travelled
by the mail, with the rest, because she wished to show that she was
not high-minded. But she was not without a protector; her younger
brother, JULY, was with her. He was a plump young fellow, clad in
summer garments and wearing a straw hat. He had but very little
luggage with him, because it was so cumbersome in the great heat; he
had, however, swimming-trousers with him, which are nothing to
carry. Then came the mother herself, in crinoline, Madame AUGUST, a
wholesale dealer in fruit, proprietress of a large number of fish
ponds and a land cultivator. She was fat and heated, yet she could use
her hands well, and would herself carry out beer to the laborers in
