fromthebookshotfortharayoflightwhichgrewbroadandfull,likethestemofatree,fromwhichbrightraysspreadupwardandoverthestudent'shead.eachleafwasfresh,andeachflowerwaslikeabeautifulfemalehead;somewithdarkandsparklingeyes,andotherswitheyesthatwerewonderfullyblueandclear.thefruitgleamedlikestars,andtheroomwasfilledwithsoundsofbeautifulmusic.thelittlegoblinhadneverimagined,muchlessseenorheardof,anysightsogloriousasthis.hestoodstillontiptoe,peepingin,tillthelightwentoutinthegarret.thestudentnodoubthadblownouthiscandleandgonetobed;butthelittlegoblinremainedstandingtherenevertheless,andlisteningtothemusicwhichstillsoundedon,softandbeautiful,asweetcradle-songforthestudent,whohadlaindowntorest."

"thisisawonderfulplace,"saidthegoblin;"ineverexpectedsuchathing.ishouldliketostayherewiththestudent;"andthelittlemanthoughtitover,forhewasasensiblelittlespirit.atlasthesighed,"butthestudenthasnojam!"sohewentdownstairsagainintothehuckster'sshop,anditwasagoodthinghegotbackwhenhedid,forthecaskhadalmostwornoutthelady'stongue;hehadgivenadescriptionofallthathecontainedononeside,andwasjustabouttoturnhimselfovertotheothersidetodescribewhatwasthere,whenthegoblinenteredandrestoredthetonguetothelady.butfromthattimeforward,thewholeshop,fromthecashboxdowntothepinewoodlogs,formedtheiropinionsfromthatofthecask;andtheyallhadsuchconfidenceinhim,andtreatedhimwithsomuchrespect,thatwhenthehucksterreadthecriticismsontheatricalsandartofanevening,theyfancieditmustallcomefromthecask.

butafterwhathehadseen,thegoblincouldnolongersitandlistenquietlytothewisdomandunderstandingdownstairs;so,assoonastheeveninglightglimmeredinthegarret,hetookcourage,foritseemedtohimasiftheraysoflightwerestrongcables,drawinghimup,andobliginghimtogoandpeepthroughthekeyhole;and,whilethere,afeelingofvastnesscameoverhimsuchasweexperiencebytheever-movingsea,whenthestormbreaksforth;anditbroughttearsintohiseyes.hedidnothimselfknowwhyhewept,yetakindofpleasantfeelingmingledwithhistears."howwonderfullygloriousitwouldbetositwiththestudentundersuchatree;"butthatwasoutofthequestion,hemustbecontenttolookthroughthekeyhole,andbethankfulforeventhat.

therehestoodontheoldlanding,withtheautumnwindblowingdownuponhimthroughthetrap-door.itwasverycold;butthelittlecreaturedidnotreallyfeelit,tillthelightinthegarretwentout,andthetonesofmusicdiedaway.thenhowheshivered,andcreptdownstairsagaintohiswarmcorner,whereitfelthome-likeandcomfortable.andwhenchristmascameagain,andbroughtthedishofjamandthegreatlumpofbutter,helikedthehucksterbestofall.

soonafter,inthemiddleofthenight,thegoblinwasawokebyaterriblenoiseandknockingagainstthewindowshuttersandthehousedoors,andbythesoundofthewatchman'shorn;foragreatfirehadbrokenout,andthewholestreetappearedfullofflames.wasitintheirhouse,oraneighbor's?noonecouldtell,forterrorhadseizeduponall.thehuckster'swifewassobewilderedthatshetookhergoldear-ringsoutofherearsandputtheminherpocket,thatshemightsavesomethingatleast.thehucksterrantogethisbusinesspapers,andtheservantresolvedtosaveherbluesilkmantle,whichshehadmanagedtobuy.eachwishedtokeepthebestthingstheyhad.thegoblinhadthesamewish;for,withonespring,hewasupstairsandinthestudent'sroom,whomhefoundstandingbytheopenwindow,andlookingquitecalmlyatthefire,whichwasragingatthehouseofaneighboropposite.thegoblincaughtupthewonderfulbookwhichlayonthetable,andpoppeditintohisredcap,whichheheldtightlywithbothhands.thegreatesttreasureinthehousewassaved;andheranawaywithittotheroof,andseatedhimselfonthechimney.theflamesoftheburninghouseoppositeilluminatedhimashesat,bothhandspressedtightlyoverhiscap,inwhichthetreasurelay;andthenhefoundoutwhatfeelingsreallyreignedinhisheart,andknewexactlywhichwaytheytended.andyet,whenthefirewasextinguished,andthegoblinagainbegantoreflect,hehesitated,andsaidatlast,"imustdividemyselfbetweenthetwo;icannotquitegiveupthehuckster,becauseofthejam."

andthisisarepresentationofhumannature.wearelikethegoblin;weallgotovisitthehuckster"becauseofthejam."

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

thegoldentreasure

byhanschristianandersen

thedrummer'swifewentintothechurch.shesawthenewaltarwiththepaintedpicturesandthecarvedangels.thoseuponthecanvasandinthegloryoverthealtarwerejustasbeautifulasthecarvedones;andtheywerepaintedandgiltintothebargain.theirhairgleamedgoldeninthesunshine,lovelytobehold;buttherealsunshinewasmorebeautifulstill.itshoneredder,clearerthroughthedarktrees,whenthesunwentdown.itwaslovelythustolookatthesunshineofheaven.andshelookedattheredsun,andshethoughtaboutitsodeeply,andthoughtofthelittleonewhomthestorkwastobring,andthewifeofthedrummerwasverycheerful,andlookedandlooked,andwishedthatthechildmighthaveagleamofsunshinegiventoit,sothatitmightatleastbecomelikeoneoftheshiningangelsoverthealtar.

andwhenshereallyhadthelittlechildinherarms,andheldituptoitsfather,thenitwaslikeoneoftheangelsinthechurchtobehold,withhairlikegold-thegleamofthesettingsunwasuponit.

"mygoldentreasure,myriches,mysunshine!"