-nearlyalltheshieldshadchangedplaces.insomeplacestheinscriptionsweresomalicious,thatgrandfatherwouldnotspeakofthematall;butisawthathewaschucklingsecretly,andtheremayhavebeensomeinaccuracyinhisdescription,afterall.

thepoorpeopleinthetown,andstillmorethestrangers,werecontinuallymakingmistakesinthepeopletheywantedtosee;norwasthistobeavoided,whentheywentaccordingtotheshieldsthatwerehungup.thus,forinstance,somewhowantedtogotoaverygraveassemblyofelderlymen,whereimportantaffairsweretobediscussed,foundthemselvesinanoisyboys'school,whereallthecompanywereleapingoverthechairsandtables.

therewerealsopeoplewhomadeamistakebetweenthechurchandthetheatre,andthatwasterribleindeed!

suchastormwehaveneverwitnessedinourday;forthatonlyhappenedingrandpapa'stime,whenhewasquitealittleboy.perhapsweshallneverexperienceastormofthekind,butourgrandchildrenmay;andwecanonlyhopeandpraythatallmaystayathomewhilethestormismovingtheshields.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

thestoryofamother

byhanschristianandersen

amothersatbyherlittlechild;shewasverysad,forshefeareditwoulddie.itwasquitepale,anditslittleeyeswereclosed,andsometimesitdrewaheavydeepbreath,almostlikeasigh;andthenthemothergazedmoresadlythaneveronthepoorlittlecreature.someoneknockedatthedoor,andapooroldmanwalkedin.hewaswrappedinsomethingthatlookedlikeagreathorse-cloth;andherequiredittrulytokeephimwarm,foritwascoldwinter;thecountryeverywherelaycoveredwithsnowandice,andthewindblewsosharplythatitcutone'sface.thelittlechildhaddozedofftosleepforamoment,andthemother,seeingthattheoldmanshiveredwiththecold,roseandplacedasmallmugofbeeronthestovetowarmforhim.theoldmansatandrockedthecradle;andthemotherseatedherselfonachairnearhim,andlookedathersickchildwhostillbreathedheavily,andtookholdofitslittlehand.

"youthinkishallkeephim,doyounot?"shesaid."ourall-mercifulgodwillsurelynottakehimawayfromme."

theoldman,whowasindeeddeathhimself,noddedhisheadinapeculiarmanner,whichmighthavesignifiedeitheryes,orno;andthemothercastdownhereyes,whilethetearsrolleddownherherheadbecameheavy,forshehadnotclosedhereyesforthreedaysandnights,andsheslept,butonlyforamoment.shiveringwithcold,shestartedupandlookedroundtheroom.theoldmanwasgone,andherchild-itwasgonetoo!-theoldmanhadtakenitwithhim.inthecorneroftheroomtheoldclockbegantostrike;"whirr"wentthechains,theheavyweightsanktotheground,andtheclockstopped;andthepoormotherrushedoutofthehousecallingforherchild.outinthesnowsatawomaninlongblackgarments,andshesaidtothemother,"deathhasbeenwithyouinyourroom.isawhimhasteningawaywithyourlittlechild;hestridesfasterthanthewind,andneverbringsbackwhathehastakenaway."

"onlytellmewhichwayhehasgone,"saidthemother;tellmetheway,iwillfindhim."

"iknowtheway,"saidthewomanintheblackgarments;"butbeforeitellyou,youmustsingtomeallthesongsthatyouhavesungtoyourchild;ilovethesesongs,ihaveheardthembefore.iamnight,andisawyourtearsflowasyousang."

"iwillsingthemalltoyou,"saidthemother;"butdonotdetainmenow.imustovertakehim,andfindmychild."

butnightsatsilentandstill.thenthemotherweptandsang,andwrungherhands.andthereweremanysongs,andyetevenmoretears;tillatlengthnightsaid,"gototheright,intothedarkforestoffir-trees;forisawdeathtakethatroadwithyourlittlechild."

withinthewoodthemothercametocrossroads,andsheknewnotwhichtotake.justbystoodathorn-bush;ithadneitherleafnorflower,foritwasthecoldwintertime,andicicleshungonthebranches."haveyounotseendeathgoby,withmylittlechild?"