THE LITTLE ELDER-TREE MOTHER [3]
in the
meadows smelt sweetly. "One can never forget it!"
"Here it is beautiful in autumn!" said the little girl, and the
atmosphere seemed twice as high and blue, while the wood shone with
crimson, green, and gold. The hounds were running off, flocks of
wild fowl flew screaming over the barrows, while the bramble bushes
twined round the old stones. The dark-blue sea was covered with
white-sailed ships, and in the barns sat old women, girls, and
children picking hops into a large tub; the young ones sang songs, and
the old people told fairy tales about goblins and sorcerers. It
could not be more pleasant anywhere.
"Here it's agreeable in winter!" said the little girl, and all the
trees were covered with hoar-frost, so that they looked like white
coral. The snow creaked under one's feet, as if one had new boots
on. One shooting star after another traversed the sky. In the room the
Christmas tree was lit, and there were song and merriment. In the
peasant's cottage the violin sounded, and games were played for
apple quarters; even the poorest child said, "It is beautiful in
winter!"
And indeed it was beautiful! And the little girl showed everything
to the boy, and the elder-tree continued to breathe forth sweet
perfume, while the red flag with the white cross was streaming in
the wind; it was the flag under which the old sailor had served. The
boy became a youth; he was to go out into the wide world, far away
to the countries where the coffee grows. But at parting the little
girl took an elder-blossom from her breast and gave it to him as a
keepsake. He placed it in his prayer-book, and when he opened it in
distant lands it was always at the place where the flower of
remembrance was lying; and the more he looked at it the fresher it
became, so that he could almost smell the fragrance of the woods at
home. He distinctly saw the little girl, with her bright blue eyes,
peeping out from behind the petals, and heard her whispering, "Here it
is beautiful in spring, in summer, in autumn, and in winter," and
hundreds of pictures passed through his mind.
Thus many years rolled by. He had now become an old man, and was
sitting, with his old wife, under an elder-tree in full bloom. They
held each other by the hand exactly as the great-grandfather and the
great-grandmother had done outside, and, like them, they talked
about bygone days and of their golden wedding. The little girl with
the blue eyes and elder-blossoms in her hair was sitting high up in
the tree, and nodded to them, saying, "To-day is the golden
wedding!" And then she took two flowers out of her wreath and kissed
them. They glittered at first like silver, then like gold, and when
she placed them on the heads of the old people each flower became a
golden crown. There they both sat like a king and queen under the
sweet-smelling tree, which looked exactly like an elder-tree, and he
told his wife the story of the elder-tree mother as it had been told
him when he was a little boy. They were both of opinion that the story
contained many points like their own, and these similarities they
liked best.
"Yes, so it is," said the little girl in the tree. "Some call me
Little Elder-tree Mother; others a Dryad; but my real name is
'Remembrance.' It is I who sit in the tree which grows and grows. I
can remember things and tell stories! But let's see if you have
still got your flower."
And the old man opened his prayer-book; the elder-blossom was
still in it, and as fresh as if it had only just been put in.
Remembrance nodded, and the two old people, with the golden crowns
on their heads, sat in the glowing evening sun. They closed their eyes
and- and-
Well, now the story is ended! The little boy in bed did not know
whether he had dreamt it or heard it told; the teapot stood on the
table, but no elder-tree was growing out of it, and the old man who
had told the story was on the point of leaving the room, and he did go
out.
"How
meadows smelt sweetly. "One can never forget it!"
"Here it is beautiful in autumn!" said the little girl, and the
atmosphere seemed twice as high and blue, while the wood shone with
crimson, green, and gold. The hounds were running off, flocks of
wild fowl flew screaming over the barrows, while the bramble bushes
twined round the old stones. The dark-blue sea was covered with
white-sailed ships, and in the barns sat old women, girls, and
children picking hops into a large tub; the young ones sang songs, and
the old people told fairy tales about goblins and sorcerers. It
could not be more pleasant anywhere.
"Here it's agreeable in winter!" said the little girl, and all the
trees were covered with hoar-frost, so that they looked like white
coral. The snow creaked under one's feet, as if one had new boots
on. One shooting star after another traversed the sky. In the room the
Christmas tree was lit, and there were song and merriment. In the
peasant's cottage the violin sounded, and games were played for
apple quarters; even the poorest child said, "It is beautiful in
winter!"
And indeed it was beautiful! And the little girl showed everything
to the boy, and the elder-tree continued to breathe forth sweet
perfume, while the red flag with the white cross was streaming in
the wind; it was the flag under which the old sailor had served. The
boy became a youth; he was to go out into the wide world, far away
to the countries where the coffee grows. But at parting the little
girl took an elder-blossom from her breast and gave it to him as a
keepsake. He placed it in his prayer-book, and when he opened it in
distant lands it was always at the place where the flower of
remembrance was lying; and the more he looked at it the fresher it
became, so that he could almost smell the fragrance of the woods at
home. He distinctly saw the little girl, with her bright blue eyes,
peeping out from behind the petals, and heard her whispering, "Here it
is beautiful in spring, in summer, in autumn, and in winter," and
hundreds of pictures passed through his mind.
Thus many years rolled by. He had now become an old man, and was
sitting, with his old wife, under an elder-tree in full bloom. They
held each other by the hand exactly as the great-grandfather and the
great-grandmother had done outside, and, like them, they talked
about bygone days and of their golden wedding. The little girl with
the blue eyes and elder-blossoms in her hair was sitting high up in
the tree, and nodded to them, saying, "To-day is the golden
wedding!" And then she took two flowers out of her wreath and kissed
them. They glittered at first like silver, then like gold, and when
she placed them on the heads of the old people each flower became a
golden crown. There they both sat like a king and queen under the
sweet-smelling tree, which looked exactly like an elder-tree, and he
told his wife the story of the elder-tree mother as it had been told
him when he was a little boy. They were both of opinion that the story
contained many points like their own, and these similarities they
liked best.
"Yes, so it is," said the little girl in the tree. "Some call me
Little Elder-tree Mother; others a Dryad; but my real name is
'Remembrance.' It is I who sit in the tree which grows and grows. I
can remember things and tell stories! But let's see if you have
still got your flower."
And the old man opened his prayer-book; the elder-blossom was
still in it, and as fresh as if it had only just been put in.
Remembrance nodded, and the two old people, with the golden crowns
on their heads, sat in the glowing evening sun. They closed their eyes
and- and-
Well, now the story is ended! The little boy in bed did not know
whether he had dreamt it or heard it told; the teapot stood on the
table, but no elder-tree was growing out of it, and the old man who
had told the story was on the point of leaving the room, and he did go
out.
"How