sostrangelyhadfateplayedwithher.shedidnotlivetoseemanyanniversariesofthefestivalofthethreekings;holberghasrecordedthatshediedinjune,1716;buthehasnotwrittendown,forhedidnotknow,thatanumberofgreatblackbirdscircledovertheferry-house,whenmothersoren,asshewascalled,waslyingthereacorpse.theydidnotscream,asiftheyknewthatataburialsilenceshouldbeobserved.sosoonasshelayintheearth,thebirdsdisappeared;butonthesameeveninginjutland,attheoldmanorhouse,anenormousnumberofcrowsandchoughswereseen;theyallcriedasloudastheycould,asiftheyhadsomeannouncementtomake.perhapstheytalkedofhimwho,asalittleboy,hadtakenawaytheireggsandtheiryoung;ofthepeasant'sson,whohadtowearanirongarter,andofthenobleyounglady,whoendedbybeingaferryman'swife.

"brave!brave!"theycried.

andthewholefamilycried,"brave!brave!"whentheoldhousewaspulleddown.

"theyarestillcrying,andyetthere'snothingtocryabout,"saidtheclerk,whenhetoldthestory."thefamilyisextinct,thehousehasbeenpulleddown,andwhereitstoodisnowthestatelypoultry-house,withgildedweathercocks,andtheoldpoultrymeg.sherejoicesgreatlyinherbeautifuldwelling.ifshehadnotcomehere,"theoldclerkadded,"shewouldhavehadtogointothework-house."

thepigeonscooedoverher,theturkey-cocksgobbled,andtheducksquacked.

"nobodyknewher,"theysaid;"shebelongstonofamily.it'spurecharitythatsheishereatall.shehasneitheradrakefathernorahenmother,andhasnodescendants."

shecameofagreatfamily,forallthat;butshedidnotknowit,andtheoldclerkdidnotknowit,thoughhehadsomuchwrittendown;butoneoftheoldcrowsknewaboutit,andtoldaboutit.shehadheardfromherownmotherandgrandmotheraboutpoultrymeg'smotherandgrandmother.andweknowthegrandmothertoo.wesawherride,aschild,overthebridge,lookingproudlyaroundher,asifthewholeworldbelongedtoher,andallthebirds'nestsinit;andwesawherontheheath,bythesand-dunes;and,lastofall,intheferry-house.thegranddaughter,thelastofherrace,hadcomebacktotheoldhome,wheretheoldcastlehadstood,wheretheblackwildbirdswerescreaming;butshesatamongthetamebirds,andtheseknewherandwerefondofher.poultrymeghadnothinglefttowishfor;shelookedforwardwithpleasuretoherdeath,andshewasoldenoughtodie.

"grave,grave!"criedthecrows.

andpoultrymeghasagoodgrave,whichnobodyknewexcepttheoldcrow,iftheoldcrowisnotdeadalready.

andnowweknowthestoryoftheoldmanorhouse,ofitsoldproprietors,andofallpoultrymeg'sfamily.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

shewasgoodfornothing

byhanschristianandersen

themayorstoodattheopenwindow.helookedsmart,forhisshirt-frill,inwhichhehadstuckabreast-pin,andhisruffles,wereveryfine.hehadshavedhischinuncommonlysmooth,althoughhehadcuthimselfslightly,andhadstuckapieceofnewspaperovertheplace."hark'ee,youngster!"criedhe.

theboytowhomhespokewasnootherthanthesonofapoorwasher-woman,whowasjustgoingpastthehouse.hestopped,andrespectfullytookoffhiscap.thepeakofthiscapwasbrokeninthemiddle,sothathecouldeasilyrollitupandputitinhispocket.hestoodbeforethemayorinhispoorbutcleanandwell-mendedclothes,withheavywoodenshoesonhisfeet,lookingashumbleasifithadbeenthekinghimself.

"youareagoodandcivilboy,"saidthemayor."isupposeyourmotherisbusywashingtheclothesdownbytheriver,andyouaregoingtocarrythatthingtoherthatyouhaveinyourpocket.itisverybadforyourmother.howmuchhaveyougotinit?"