THE FIR TREE [3]
creeping cautiously towards
the tree; then came another; and they both sniffed at the fir-tree and
crept between the branches.
"Oh, it is very cold," said the little mouse, "or else we should
be so comfortable here, shouldn't we, you old fir-tree?"
"I am not old," said the fir-tree, "there are many who are older
than I am."
"Where do you come from? and what do you know?" asked the mice,
who were full of curiosity. "Have you seen the most beautiful places
in the world, and can you tell us all about them? and have you been in
the storeroom, where cheeses lie on the shelf, and hams hang from
the ceiling? One can run about on tallow candles there, and go in thin
and come out fat."
"I know nothing of that place," said the fir-tree, "but I know the
wood where the sun shines and the birds sing." And then the tree
told the little mice all about its youth. They had never heard such an
account in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively,
they said, "What a number of things you have seen? you must have
been very happy."
"Happy!" exclaimed the fir-tree, and then as he reflected upon
what he had been telling them, he said, "Ah, yes! after all those were
happy days." But when he went on and related all about
Christmas-eve, and how he had been dressed up with cakes and lights,
the mice said, "How happy you must have been, you old fir-tree."
"I am not old at all," replied the tree, "I only came from the
forest this winter, I am now checked in my growth."
"What splendid stories you can relate," said the little mice.
And the next night four other mice came with them to hear what the
tree had to tell. The more he talked the more he remembered, and
then he thought to himself, "Those were happy days, but they may
come again. Humpty Dumpty fell down stairs, and yet he married the
princess; perhaps I may marry a princess too." And the fir-tree
thought of the pretty little birch-tree that grew in the forest, which
was to him a real beautiful princess.
"Who is Humpty Dumpty?" asked the little mice. And then the tree
related the whole story; he could remember every single word, and
the little mice was so delighted with it, that they were ready to jump
to the top of the tree. The next night a great many more mice made
their appearance, and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they
said, it was not a pretty story at all, and the little mice were
very sorry, for it made them also think less of it.
"Do you know only one story?" asked the rats.
"Only one," replied the fir-tree; "I heard it on the happiest
evening of my life; but I did not know I was so happy at the time."
"We think it is a very miserable story," said the rats. "Don't you
know any story about bacon, or tallow in the storeroom."
"No," replied the tree.
"Many thanks to you then," replied the rats, and they marched off.
The little mice also kept away after this, and the tree sighed,
and said, "It was very pleasant when the merry little mice sat round
me and listened while I talked. Now that is all passed too. However, I
shall consider myself happy when some one comes to take me out of this
place." But would this ever happen? Yes; one morning people came to
clear out the garret, the boxes were packed away, and the tree was
pulled out of the corner, and thrown roughly on the garret floor; then
the servant dragged it out upon the staircase where the daylight
shone. "Now life is beginning again," said the tree, rejoicing in
the sunshine and fresh air. Then it was carried down stairs and
taken into the courtyard so quickly, that it forgot to think of
itself, and could only look about, there was so much to be seen. The
court was close to a garden, where everything looked blooming. Fresh
and fragrant roses hung over the little palings. The linden-trees were
in blossom; while the swallows flew here and there, crying, "Twit,
twit, twit, my mate is coming,"- but it was not the fir-tree they
meant.
the tree; then came another; and they both sniffed at the fir-tree and
crept between the branches.
"Oh, it is very cold," said the little mouse, "or else we should
be so comfortable here, shouldn't we, you old fir-tree?"
"I am not old," said the fir-tree, "there are many who are older
than I am."
"Where do you come from? and what do you know?" asked the mice,
who were full of curiosity. "Have you seen the most beautiful places
in the world, and can you tell us all about them? and have you been in
the storeroom, where cheeses lie on the shelf, and hams hang from
the ceiling? One can run about on tallow candles there, and go in thin
and come out fat."
"I know nothing of that place," said the fir-tree, "but I know the
wood where the sun shines and the birds sing." And then the tree
told the little mice all about its youth. They had never heard such an
account in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively,
they said, "What a number of things you have seen? you must have
been very happy."
"Happy!" exclaimed the fir-tree, and then as he reflected upon
what he had been telling them, he said, "Ah, yes! after all those were
happy days." But when he went on and related all about
Christmas-eve, and how he had been dressed up with cakes and lights,
the mice said, "How happy you must have been, you old fir-tree."
"I am not old at all," replied the tree, "I only came from the
forest this winter, I am now checked in my growth."
"What splendid stories you can relate," said the little mice.
And the next night four other mice came with them to hear what the
tree had to tell. The more he talked the more he remembered, and
then he thought to himself, "Those were happy days, but they may
come again. Humpty Dumpty fell down stairs, and yet he married the
princess; perhaps I may marry a princess too." And the fir-tree
thought of the pretty little birch-tree that grew in the forest, which
was to him a real beautiful princess.
"Who is Humpty Dumpty?" asked the little mice. And then the tree
related the whole story; he could remember every single word, and
the little mice was so delighted with it, that they were ready to jump
to the top of the tree. The next night a great many more mice made
their appearance, and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they
said, it was not a pretty story at all, and the little mice were
very sorry, for it made them also think less of it.
"Do you know only one story?" asked the rats.
"Only one," replied the fir-tree; "I heard it on the happiest
evening of my life; but I did not know I was so happy at the time."
"We think it is a very miserable story," said the rats. "Don't you
know any story about bacon, or tallow in the storeroom."
"No," replied the tree.
"Many thanks to you then," replied the rats, and they marched off.
The little mice also kept away after this, and the tree sighed,
and said, "It was very pleasant when the merry little mice sat round
me and listened while I talked. Now that is all passed too. However, I
shall consider myself happy when some one comes to take me out of this
place." But would this ever happen? Yes; one morning people came to
clear out the garret, the boxes were packed away, and the tree was
pulled out of the corner, and thrown roughly on the garret floor; then
the servant dragged it out upon the staircase where the daylight
shone. "Now life is beginning again," said the tree, rejoicing in
the sunshine and fresh air. Then it was carried down stairs and
taken into the courtyard so quickly, that it forgot to think of
itself, and could only look about, there was so much to be seen. The
court was close to a garden, where everything looked blooming. Fresh
and fragrant roses hung over the little palings. The linden-trees were
in blossom; while the swallows flew here and there, crying, "Twit,
twit, twit, my mate is coming,"- but it was not the fir-tree they
meant.