THE LITTLE ELDER-TREE MOTHER [0]
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE LITTLE ELDER-TREE MOTHER
by Hans Christian Andersen
THERE was once a little boy who had caught cold; he had gone out
and got wet feet. Nobody had the least idea how it had happened; the
weather was quite dry. His mother undressed him, put him to bed, and
ordered the teapot to be brought in, that she might make him a good
cup of tea from the elder-tree blossoms, which is so warming. At the
same time, the kind-hearted old man who lived by himself in the
upper storey of the house came in; he led a lonely life, for he had no
wife and children; but he loved the children of others very much,
and he could tell so many fairy tales and stories, that it was a
pleasure to hear him.
"Now, drink your tea," said the mother; "perhaps you will hear a
story."
"Yes, if I only knew a fresh one," said the old man, and nodded
smilingly. "But how did the little fellow get his wet feet?" he then
asked.
"That," replied the mother, "nobody can understand."
"Will you tell me a story?" asked the boy.
"Yes, if you can tell me as nearly as possible how deep is the
gutter in the little street where you go to school."
"Just half as high as my top-boots," replied the boy; "but then
I must stand in the deepest holes."
"There, now we know where you got your wet feet," said the old
man. "I ought to tell you a story, but the worst of it is, I do not
know any more."
"You can make one up," said the little boy. "Mother says you can
tell a fairy tale about anything you look at or touch."
"That is all very well, but such tales or stories are worth
nothing! No, the right ones come by themselves and knock at my
forehead saying: 'Here I am.'"
"Will not one knock soon?" asked the boy; and the mother smiled
while she put elder-tree blossoms into the teapot and poured boiling
water over them. "Pray, tell me a story."
"Yes, if stories came by themselves; they are so proud, they
only come when they please.- But wait," he said suddenly, "there is
one. Look at the teapot; there is a story in it now."
And the little boy looked at the teapot; the lid rose up
gradually, the elder-tree blossoms sprang forth one by one, fresh
and white; long boughs came forth; even out of the spout they grew
up in all directions, and formed a bush- nay, a large elder tree,
which stretched its branches up to the bed and pushed the curtains
aside; and there were so many blossoms and such a sweet fragrance!
In the midst of the tree sat a kindly-looking old woman with a strange
dress; it was as green as the leaves, and trimmed with large white
blossoms, so that it was difficult to say whether it was real cloth,
or the leaves and blossoms of the elder-tree.
"What is this woman's name?" asked the little boy.
"Well, the Romans and Greeks used to call her a Dryad," said the
old man; "but we do not understand that. Out in the sailors' quarter
they give her a better name; there she is called elder-tree mother.
Now, you must attentively listen to her and look at the beautiful
elder-tree.
"Just such a large tree, covered with flowers, stands out there;
it grew in the corner of an humble little yard; under this tree sat
two old people one afternoon in the beautiful sunshine. He was an old,
old sailor, and she his old wife; they had already
great-grandchildren, and were soon to celebrate their golden
wedding, but they could not remember the date, and the elder-tree
mother was sitting in the tree and looked as pleased as this one here.
'I know very well when the golden wedding is to take place,' she said;
but they did not hear it- they were talking of bygone days.
"'Well, do you remember?' said the old sailor, 'when we were quite
small and used to run about and play- it was in the very same yard
where we now are- we used to put little branches into the
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE LITTLE ELDER-TREE MOTHER
by Hans Christian Andersen
THERE was once a little boy who had caught cold; he had gone out
and got wet feet. Nobody had the least idea how it had happened; the
weather was quite dry. His mother undressed him, put him to bed, and
ordered the teapot to be brought in, that she might make him a good
cup of tea from the elder-tree blossoms, which is so warming. At the
same time, the kind-hearted old man who lived by himself in the
upper storey of the house came in; he led a lonely life, for he had no
wife and children; but he loved the children of others very much,
and he could tell so many fairy tales and stories, that it was a
pleasure to hear him.
"Now, drink your tea," said the mother; "perhaps you will hear a
story."
"Yes, if I only knew a fresh one," said the old man, and nodded
smilingly. "But how did the little fellow get his wet feet?" he then
asked.
"That," replied the mother, "nobody can understand."
"Will you tell me a story?" asked the boy.
"Yes, if you can tell me as nearly as possible how deep is the
gutter in the little street where you go to school."
"Just half as high as my top-boots," replied the boy; "but then
I must stand in the deepest holes."
"There, now we know where you got your wet feet," said the old
man. "I ought to tell you a story, but the worst of it is, I do not
know any more."
"You can make one up," said the little boy. "Mother says you can
tell a fairy tale about anything you look at or touch."
"That is all very well, but such tales or stories are worth
nothing! No, the right ones come by themselves and knock at my
forehead saying: 'Here I am.'"
"Will not one knock soon?" asked the boy; and the mother smiled
while she put elder-tree blossoms into the teapot and poured boiling
water over them. "Pray, tell me a story."
"Yes, if stories came by themselves; they are so proud, they
only come when they please.- But wait," he said suddenly, "there is
one. Look at the teapot; there is a story in it now."
And the little boy looked at the teapot; the lid rose up
gradually, the elder-tree blossoms sprang forth one by one, fresh
and white; long boughs came forth; even out of the spout they grew
up in all directions, and formed a bush- nay, a large elder tree,
which stretched its branches up to the bed and pushed the curtains
aside; and there were so many blossoms and such a sweet fragrance!
In the midst of the tree sat a kindly-looking old woman with a strange
dress; it was as green as the leaves, and trimmed with large white
blossoms, so that it was difficult to say whether it was real cloth,
or the leaves and blossoms of the elder-tree.
"What is this woman's name?" asked the little boy.
"Well, the Romans and Greeks used to call her a Dryad," said the
old man; "but we do not understand that. Out in the sailors' quarter
they give her a better name; there she is called elder-tree mother.
Now, you must attentively listen to her and look at the beautiful
elder-tree.
"Just such a large tree, covered with flowers, stands out there;
it grew in the corner of an humble little yard; under this tree sat
two old people one afternoon in the beautiful sunshine. He was an old,
old sailor, and she his old wife; they had already
great-grandchildren, and were soon to celebrate their golden
wedding, but they could not remember the date, and the elder-tree
mother was sitting in the tree and looked as pleased as this one here.
'I know very well when the golden wedding is to take place,' she said;
but they did not hear it- they were talking of bygone days.
"'Well, do you remember?' said the old sailor, 'when we were quite
small and used to run about and play- it was in the very same yard
where we now are- we used to put little branches into the