hekissedtheletter,anditwaslaid,withitsenclosureofverses,inabox,inwhichthereweremanybeautifulverses,butallofthemwithoutflowers;shewasthefirst,theonlyone,asthesunbeamshadcalledher;anditwasapleasantthingtothinkofthat.

shehadtimeenough,moreover,tothinkaboutit;shethoughtofitwhilethesummerpassedaway,andthelongwinterwentby,andthesummercameagain,beforesheappearedoncemore.butnowtheyoungmanwasnotpleasedatall.hetookholdoftheletterveryroughly,andthrewtheversesaway,sothattheflowerfellontheground.flatandfadedshecertainlywas,butwhyshouldshebethrownontheground?still,itwasbettertobeherethaninthefire,wheretheversesandthepaperwerebeingburnttoashes.whathadhappened?whathappenssooften:-theflowerhadmadeagaukofhim,thatwasajest;thegirlhadmadeafoolofhim,thatwasnojest,shehad,duringthesummer,chosenanotherfriend.

nextmorningthesunshoneinuponthelittleflattenedsnowdrop,thatlookedasifithadbeenpainteduponthefloor.theservantgirl,whowassweepingouttheroom,pickeditup,andlaiditinoneofthebookswhichwereuponthetable,inthebeliefthatitmusthavefallenoutwhiletheroomwasbeingarranged.againtheflowerlayamongverses-printedverses-andtheyarebetterthanwrittenones-atleast,moremoneyhasbeenspentuponthem.

andafterthisyearswentby.thebookstooduponthebook-shelf,andthenitwastakenupandsomebodyreadoutofit.itwasagoodbook;versesandsongsbytheolddanishpoet,ambrosiusstub,whicharewellworthreading.themanwhowasnowreadingthebookturnedoverapage.

"why,there'saflower!"hesaid;"asnowdrop,asummergauk,apoetgauk!thatflowermusthavebeenputintherewithameaning!poorambrosiusstub!hewasasummerfooltoo,apoetfool;hecametooearly,beforehistime,andthereforehehadtotastethesharpwinds,andwanderaboutasaguestfromonenoblelandedproprietortoanother,likeaflowerinaglassofwater,aflowerinrhymedverses!summerfool,winterfool,funandfolly-butthefirst,theonly,thefreshyoungdanishpoetofthosedays.yes,thoushaltremainasatokeninthebook,thoulittlesnowdrop:thouhastbeenputtherewithameaning."

andsothesnowdropwasputbackintothebook,andfeltequallyhonoredandpleasedtoknowthatitwasatokeninthegloriousbookofsongs,andthathewhowasthefirsttosingandtowritehadbeenalsoasnowdrop,hadbeenasummergauk,andhadbeenlookeduponinthewinter-timeasafool.theflowerunderstoodthis,inherway,asweinterpreteverythinginourway.

thatisthestoryofthesnowdrop.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

thestorks

byhanschristianandersen

onthelasthouseinalittlevillagethestorkshadbuiltanest,andthemotherstorksatinitwithherfouryoungones,whostretchedouttheirnecksandpointedtheirblackbeaks,whichhadnotyetturnedredlikethoseoftheparentbirds.alittlewayoff,ontheedgeoftheroof,stoodthefatherstork,quiteuprightandstiff;notlikingtobequiteidle,hedrewuponeleg,andstoodontheother,sostillthatitseemedalmostasifhewerecarvedinwood."itmustlookverygrand,"thoughthe,"formywifetohaveasentryguardinghernest.theydonotknowthatiamherhusband;theywillthinkihavebeencommandedtostandhere,whichisquitearistocratic;"andsohecontinuedstandingononeleg.

inthestreetbelowwereanumberofchildrenatplay,andwhentheycaughtsightofthestorks,oneoftheboldestamongsttheboysbegantosingasongaboutthem,andverysoonhewasjoinedbytherest.thesearethewordsofthesong,buteachonlysangwhathecouldrememberoftheminhisownway.

"stork,stork,flyaway,