thebirdofparadise,theholyswanofsong!onthecarofthespishesatintheguiseofachatteringraven,andflappedhisblackwings,smearedwiththeleesofwine;overthesoundingharpoficelandswepttheswan'sredbeak;onshakspeare'sshoulderhesatintheguiseofodin'sraven,andwhisperedinthepoet'sear"immortality!"andattheminstrels'feastheflutteredthroughthehallsofthewartburg.

thephoenixbird,dostthounotknowhim?hesangtotheethemarseillaise,andthoukissedstthepenthatfellfromhiswing;hecameintheradianceofparadise,andperchancethoudidstturnawayfromhimtowardsthesparrowwhosatwithtinselonhiswings.

thebirdofparadise-renewedeachcentury-borninflame,endinginflame!thypicture,inagoldenframe,hangsinthehallsoftherich,butthouthyselfoftenfliestaround,lonelyanddisregarded,amyth-"thephoenixofarabia."

inparadise,whenthouwertborninthefirstrose,beneaththetreeofknowledge,thoureceivedstakiss,andthyrightnamewasgiventhee-thyname,poetry.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

theporter'sson

byhanschristianandersen

thegenerallivedinthegrandfirstfloor,andtheporterlivedinthecellar.therewasagreatdistancebetweenthetwofamilies-thewholeofthegroundfloor,andthedifferenceinrank;buttheylivedinthesamehouse,andbothhadaviewofthestreet,andofthecourtyard.inthecourtyardwasagrass-plot,onwhichgrewabloomingacaciatree(whenitwasinbloom),andunderthistreesatoccasionallythefinely-dressednurse,withthestillmorefinely-dressedchildofthegeneral-littleemily.beforethemdancedaboutbarefootthelittlesonoftheporter,withhisgreatbrowneyesanddarkhair;andthelittlegirlsmiledathim,andstretchedoutherhandstowardshim;andwhenthegeneralsawthatfromthewindow,hewouldnodhisheadandcry,"charming!"thegeneral'slady(whowassoyoungthatshemightverywellhavebeenherhusband'sdaughterfromanearlymarriage)nevercametothewindowthatlookeduponthecourtyard.shehadgivenorders,though,thattheboymightplayhisanticstoamuseherchild,butmustnevertouchit.thenursepunctuallyobeyedthegraciouslady'sorders.

thesunshoneinuponthepeopleinthegrandfirstfloor,anduponthepeopleinthecellar;theacaciatreewascoveredwithblossoms,andtheyfelloff,andnextyearnewonescame.thetreebloomed,andtheporter'slittlesonbloomedtoo,andlookedlikeafreshtulip.

thegeneral'slittledaughterbecamedelicateandpale,liketheleafoftheacaciablossom.sheseldomcamedowntothetreenow,forshetooktheairinacarriage.shedroveoutwithhermamma,andthenshewouldalwaysnodattheporter'sgeorge;yes,sheusedeventokissherhandtohim,tillhermammasaidshewastoooldtodothatnow.

onemorninggeorgewassentuptocarrythegeneralthelettersandnewspapersthathadbeendeliveredattheporter'sroominthemorning.ashewasrunningupstairs,justashepassedthedoorofthesand-box,heheardafaintpiping.hethoughtitwassomeyoungchickenthathadstrayedthere,andwasraisingcriesofdistress;butitwasthegeneral'slittledaughter,deckedoutinlaceandfinery.

"don'ttellpapaandmamma,"shewhimpered;"theywouldbeangry."

"what'sthematter,littlemissie?"askedgeorge.

"it'sallonfire!"sheanswered."it'sburningwithabrightflame!"