askedhe;"howcouldyoucomeherefasterthanihave?"

"iamamother,"sheanswered.

anddeathstretchedouthishandtowardsthedelicatelittleflower;butsheheldherhandstightlyroundit,andhelditfastatsametime,withthemostanxiouscare,lestsheshouldtouchoneoftheleaves.thendeathbreatheduponherhands,andshefelthisbreathcolderthantheicywind,andherhandssankdownpowerless.

"youcannotprevailagainstme,"saiddeath.

"butagodofmercycan,"saidshe.

"ionlydohiswill,"replieddeath."iamhisgardener.itakeallhisflowersandtrees,andtransplantthemintothegardensofparadiseinanunknownland.howtheyflourishthere,andwhatthatgardenresembles,imaynottellyou."

"givemebackmychild,"saidthemother,weepingandimploring;andsheseizedtwobeautifulflowersinherhands,andcriedtodeath,"iwilltearupallyourflowers,foriamindespair."

"donottouchthem,"saiddeath."yousayyouareunhappy;andwouldyoumakeanothermotherasunhappyasyourself?"

"anothermother!"criedthepoorwoman,settingtheflowersfreefromherhands.

"thereareyoureyes,"saiddeath."ifishedthemupoutofthelakeforyou.theywereshiningbrightly;butiknewnottheywereyours.takethemback-theyareclearernowthanbefore-andthenlookintothedeepwellwhichisclosebyhere.iwilltellyouthenamesofthetwoflowerswhichyouwishedtopullup;andyouwillseethewholefutureofthehumanbeingstheyrepresent,andwhatyouwereabouttofrustrateanddestroy."

thenshelookedintothewell;anditwasaglorioussighttobeholdhowoneofthembecameablessingtotheworld,andhowmuchhappinessandjoyitspreadaround.butshesawthatthelifeoftheotherwasfullofcareandpoverty,miseryandwoe.

"botharethewillofgod,"saiddeath.

"whichistheunhappyflower,andwhichistheblessedone?"shesaid.

"thatimaynottellyou,"saiddeath;"butthusfaryoumaylearn,thatoneofthetwoflowersrepresentsyourownchild.itwasthefateofyourchildthatyousaw,-thefutureofyourownchild."

thenthemotherscreamedaloudwithterror,"whichofthembelongstomychild?tellmethat.delivertheunhappychild.releaseitfromsomuchmisery.rathertakeitaway.takeittothekingdomofgod.forgetmytearsandmyentreaties;forgetallthatihavesaidordone."

"idonotunderstandyou,"saiddeath."willyouhaveyourchildback?orshallicarryhimawaytoaplacethatyoudonotknow?"

thenthemotherwrungherhands,fellonherknees,andprayedtogod,"grantnotmyprayers,whentheyarecontrarytothywill,whichatalltimesmustbethebest.oh,hearthemnot;"andherheadsankonherbosom.

thendeathcarriedawayherchildtotheunknownland.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

thestoryofthewind

byhanschristianandersen

"neartheshoresofthegreatbelt,whichisoneofthestraitsthatconnectthecattegatwiththebaltic,standsanoldmansionwiththickredwalls.iknoweverystoneofit,"saysthewind."isawitwhenitwaspartofthecastleofmarckstigonthepromontory.butthecastlewasobligedtobepulleddown,andthestonewasusedagainforthewallsofanewmansiononanotherspot-thebaronialresidenceofborreby,whichstillstandsnearthecoast.iknewthemwell,thosenoblelordsandladies,thesuccessivegenerationsthatdweltthere;andnowi'mgoingtotellyouofwaldemardaaandhisdaughters.howproudwashisbearing,forhewasofroyalblood,andcouldboastofmorenobledeedsthanmerelyhuntingthestagandemptyingthewine-cup.hisrulewasdespotic:'itshallbe,'hewasaccustomedtosay.hiswife,ingarmentsembroideredwithgold,steppedproudlyoverthepolishedmarblefloors.thetapestriesweregorgeous,andthefurnitureofcostlyandartistictaste.shehadbroughtgoldandplatewithherintothehouse.thecellarswerefullofwine.black,fieryhorses,neighedinthestables.therewasalookofwealthaboutthehouseofborrebyatthattime.theyhadthreechildren,daughters,fairanddelicatemaidens-ida,joanna,andannadorothea;ihaveneverforgottentheirnames.theywerearich,noblefamily,borninaffluenceandnurturedinluxury.

"whir-r-r,whir-r-r!"