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When at last he had ruined his health, they brought him into the
country, where someone paid for his board and residence. He was gentle
as a child as long as the sullen mood did not come over him; but
when it came he was fierce, became as strong as a giant, and ran about
in the wood like a chased deer. But when we succeeded in bringing
him home, and prevailed upon him to open the book with the dried-up
plants in it, he would sometimes sit for a whole day looking at this
or that plant, while frequently the tears rolled over his cheeks.
God knows what was in his mind; but he requested us to put the book
into his coffin, and now he lies there. In a little while the lid will
be placed upon the coffin, and he will have sweet rest in the grave!"
The cloth which covered his face was lifted up; the dead man's
face expressed peace- a sunbeam fell upon it. A swallow flew with
the swiftness of an arrow into the arbour, turning in its flight,
and twittered over the dead man's head.
What a strange feeling it is- surely we all know it- to look
through old letters of our young days; a different life rises up out
of the past, as it were, with all its hopes and sorrows.
A swallow flew with
the swiftness of an arrow into the arbour, turning in its flight,
and twittered over the dead man's head.
What a strange feeling it is- surely we all know it- to look
through old letters of our young days; a different life rises up out
of the past, as it were, with all its hopes and sorrows. How many of
the people with whom in those days we used to be on intimate terms
appear to us as if dead, and yet they are still alive- only we have
not thought of them for such a long time, whom we imagined we should
retain in our memories for ever, and share every joy and sorrow with
them.
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so he lay quite still, while the shot rattled through the rushes,
and gun after gun was fired over him. It was late in the day before
all became quiet, but even then the poor young thing did not dare to
move. He waited quietly for several hours, and then, after looking
carefully around him, hastened away from the moor as fast as he could.
He ran over field and meadow till a storm arose, and he could hardly
struggle against it. Towards evening, he reached a poor little cottage
that seemed ready to fall, and only remained standing because it could
not decide on which side to fall first.
Towards evening, he reached a poor little cottage
that seemed ready to fall, and only remained standing because it could
not decide on which side to fall first. The storm continued so
violent, that the duckling could go no farther; he sat down by the
cottage, and then he noticed that the door was not quite closed in
consequence of one of the hinges having given way. There was therefore
a narrow opening near the bottom large enough for him to slip through,
which he did very quietly, and got a shelter for the night.
A woman, a
tom cat, and a hen lived in this cottage. The tom cat, whom the
mistress called, "My little son," was a great favorite; he could raise
his back, and purr, and could even throw out sparks from his fur if it
were stroked the wrong way. The hen had very short legs, so she was
called "Chickie short legs." She laid good eggs, and her mistress
loved her as if she had been her own child. In the morning, the
strange visitor was discovered, and the tom cat began to purr, and the
hen to cluck.
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Young
and old, the whole city, were there; who was to warn them, if no one
noticed the sign, or knew what it meant as I did? I was so alarmed,
that I felt more strength and life than I had done for some time. I
got out of bed, and reached the window; I could not crawl any
farther from weakness and exhaustion; but I managed to open the
window. I saw the people outside running and jumping about on the ice;
I saw the beautiful flags waving in the wind; I heard the boys
shouting, 'Hurrah!' and the lads and lasses singing, and everything
full of merriment and joy.
But there was the white cloud with the
black spot hanging over them. I cried out as loudly as I could, but no
one heard me; I was too far off from the people. Soon would the
storm burst, the ice break, and all who were on it be irretrievably
lost. They could not hear me, and to go to them was quite out of my
power. Oh, if I could only get them safe on land! Then came the
thought, as if from heaven, that I would rather set fire to my bed,
and let the house be burnt down, than that so many people should
perish miserably.
I got a light, and in a few moments the red flames
leaped up as a beacon to them. I escaped fortunately as far as the
threshold of the door; but there I fell down and remained: I could
go no farther. The flames rushed out towards me, flickered on the
window, and rose high above the roof. The people on the ice became
aware of the fire, and ran as fast as possible to help a poor sick
woman, who, as they thought, was being burnt to death. There was not
one who did not run. I heard them coming, and I also at the same
time was conscious of a rush of air and a sound like the roar of heavy
artillery.
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"Good evening, old woman." "Good
evening, old man." "I've made the exchange."
"Ah, well, you understand what you're about," said the woman. Then
she embraced him, and paid no attention to the strangers, nor did
she notice the sack.
"I got a cow in exchange for the horse."
"Thank Heaven," said she. "Now we shall have plenty of milk, and
butter, and cheese on the table. That was a capital exchange."
"Yes, but I changed the cow for a sheep."
"Ah, better still!" cried the wife.
"Yes, but I changed the cow for a sheep."
"Ah, better still!" cried the wife. "You always think of
everything; we have just enough pasture for a sheep. Ewe's milk and
cheese, woollen jackets and stockings! The cow could not give all
these, and her hair only falls off. How you think of everything!"
"But I changed away the sheep for a goose."
"Then we shall have roast goose to eat this year. You dear old
man, you are always thinking of something to please me. This is
delightful.
We can let the goose walk about with a string tied to
her leg, so she will be fatter still before we roast her."
"But I gave away the goose for a fowl."
"A fowl! Well, that was a good exchange," replied the woman.
"The fowl will lay eggs and hatch them, and we shall have chickens; we
shall soon have a poultry-yard. Oh, this is just what I was wishing
for."
"Yes, but I exchanged the fowl for a sack of shrivelled apples."
"What! I really must give you a kiss for that!" exclaimed the
wife.
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sit here patiently and quietly. I know who I am, so I shall not move."
One day something lying close to the darning-needle glittered so
splendidly that she thought it was a diamond; yet it was only a
piece of broken bottle. The darning-needle spoke to it, because it
sparkled, and represented herself as a breast-pin. "I suppose you
are really a diamond?" she said.
"Why yes, something of the kind," he replied; and so each believed
the other to be very valuable, and then they began to talk about the
world, and the conceited people in it.
"I have been in a lady's work-box," said the darning-needle,
"and this lady was the cook. She had on each hand five fingers, and
anything so conceited as these five fingers I have never seen; and yet
they were only employed to take me out of the box and to put me back
again."
"Were they not high-born?"
"High-born!" said the darning-needle, "no indeed, but so
haughty. They were five brothers, all born fingers; they kept very
proudly together, though they were of different lengths.
They were five brothers, all born fingers; they kept very
proudly together, though they were of different lengths. The one who
stood first in the rank was named the thumb, he was short and thick,
and had only one joint in his back, and could therefore make but one
bow; but he said that if he were cut off from a man's hand, that man
would be unfit for a soldier. Sweet-tooth, his neighbor, dipped
himself into sweet or sour, pointed to the sun and moon, and formed
the letters when the fingers wrote.
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But to-day two old sparrows and a young one answered with a "peep" and
the thrice-repeated scrape with the left foot.
"Ah! Good-day! good-day!" They were two old ones from the nest and
a little one of the family. "Do we meet here? It's a grand place,
but there's not much to eat. This is 'the beautiful.' Peep!"
Many people came out of the side rooms where the beautiful
marble statues stood and approached the grave where lay the great
master who had created these works of art.
All stood with enraptured
faces round Thorwaldsen's grave, and a few picked up the fallen
rose-leaves and preserved them. They had come from afar: one from
mighty England, others from Germany and France. The fairest of the
ladies plucked one of the roses and hid it in her bosom. Then the
sparrows thought that the roses reigned here, and that the house had
been built for their sake. That appeared to them to be really too
much, but since all the people showed their love for the roses, they
did not wish to be behindhand.
That appeared to them to be really too
much, but since all the people showed their love for the roses, they
did not wish to be behindhand. "Peep!" they said sweeping the ground
with their tails, and blinking with one eye at the roses, they had not
looked at them long before they were convinced that they were their
old neighbours. And so they really were. The painter who had drawn the
rose-bush near the ruined house, had afterwards obtained permission to
dig it up, and had given it to the architect, for finer roses had
never been seen.
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