No More Learning

" Then he dressed his
old grandmother in her best clothes, borrowed a horse of his neighbor,
and harnessed it to a cart. Then he placed the old woman on the back
seat, so that she might not fall out as he drove, and rode away
through the wood. By sunrise they reached a large inn, where Little
Claus stopped and went to get something to eat. The landlord was a
rich man, and a good man too; but as passionate as if he had been made
of pepper and snuff.

"Good morning," said he to Little Claus; "you are come betimes
to-day. "

"Yes," said Little Claus; "I am going to the town with my old
grandmother; she is sitting at the back of the wagon, but I cannot
bring her into the room. Will you take her a glass of mead? but you
must speak very loud, for she cannot hear well. "

"Yes, certainly I will," replied the landlord; and, pouring out
a glass of mead, he carried it out to the dead grandmother, who sat
upright in the cart. "Here is a glass of mead from your grandson,"
said the landlord. The dead woman did not answer a word, but sat quite
still. "Do you not hear? " cried the landlord as loud as he could;
"here is a glass of mead from your grandson. "

Again and again he bawled it out, but as she did not stir he
flew into a passion, and threw the glass of mead in her face; it
struck her on the nose, and she fell backwards out of the cart, for
she was only seated there, not tied in.

"Hallo! " cried Little Claus, rushing out of the door, and seizing
hold of the landlord by the throat; "you have killed my grandmother;
see, here is a great hole in her forehead. "

"Oh, how unfortunate," said the landlord, wringing his hands.
"This all comes of my fiery temper. Dear Little Claus, I will give you
a bushel of money; I will bury your grandmother as if she were my own;
only keep silent, or else they will cut off my head, and that would be
disagreeable. "

So it happened that Little Claus received another bushel of money,
and the landlord buried his old grandmother as if she had been his
own. When Little Claus reached home again, he immediately sent a boy
to Great Claus, requesting him to lend him a bushel measure. "How is
this? " thought Great Claus; "did I not kill him? I must go and see for
myself. " So he went to Little Claus, and took the bushel measure
with him. "How did you get all this money? " asked Great Claus, staring
with wide open eyes at his neighbor's treasures.

"You killed my grandmother instead of me," said Little Claus;
"so I have sold her for a bushel of money. "

"That is a good price at all events," said Great Claus. So he went
home, took a hatchet, and killed his old grandmother with one blow.
Then he placed her on a cart, and drove into the town to the
apothecary, and asked him if he would buy a dead body.

"Whose is it, and where did you get it? " asked the apothecary.

"It is my grandmother," he replied; "I killed her with a blow,
that I might get a bushel of money for her. "

"Heaven preserve us! " cried the apothecary, "you are out of your
mind. Don't say such things, or you will lose your head. " And then
he talked to him seriously about the wicked deed he had done, and told
him that such a wicked man would surely be punished. Great Claus got
so frightened that he rushed out of the surgery, jumped into the cart,
whipped up his horses, and drove home quickly. The apothecary and
all the people thought him mad, and let him drive where he liked.

"You shall pay for this," said Great Claus, as soon as he got into
the highroad, "that you shall, Little Claus. " So as soon as he reached
home he took the largest sack he could find and went over to Little
Claus. "You have played me another trick," said he. "First, I killed
all my horses, and then my old grandmother, and it is all your
fault; but you shall not make a fool of me any more. " So he laid
hold of Little Claus round the body, and pushed him into the sack,
which he took on his shoulders, saying, "Now I'm going to drown you in
the river. "

He had a long way to go before he reached the river, and Little
Claus was not a very light weight to carry. The road led by the
church, and as they passed he could hear the organ playing and the
people singing beautifully. Great Claus put down the sack close to the
church-door, and thought he might as well go in and hear a psalm
before he went any farther. Little Claus could not possibly get out of
the sack, and all the people were in church; so in he went.

"Oh dear, oh dear," sighed Little Claus in the sack, as he
turned and twisted about; but he found he could not loosen the
string with which it was tied. Presently an old cattle driver, with
snowy hair, passed by, carrying a large staff in his hand, with
which he drove a large herd of cows and oxen before him. They stumbled
against the sack in which lay Little Claus, and turned it over. "Oh
dear," sighed Little Claus, "I am very young, yet I am soon going to
heaven. "

"And I, poor fellow," said the drover, "I who am so old already,
cannot get there. "

"Open the sack," cried Little Claus; "creep into it instead of me,
and you will soon be there. "

"With all my heart," replied the drover, opening the sack, from
which sprung Little Claus as quickly as possible. "Will you take
care of my cattle? " said the old man, as he crept into the bag.

"Yes," said Little Claus, and he tied up the sack, and then walked
off with all the cows and oxen.

When Great Claus came out of church, he took up the sack, and
placed it on his shoulders. It appeared to have become lighter, for
the old drover was not half so heavy as Little Claus.

"How light he seems now," said he. "Ah, it is because I have
been to a church. " So he walked on to the river, which was deep and
broad, and threw the sack containing the old drover into the water,
believing it to be Little Claus. "There you may lie! " he exclaimed;
"you will play me no more tricks now. " Then he turned to go home,
but when he came to a place where two roads crossed, there was
Little Claus driving the cattle. "How is this? " said Great Claus. "Did
I not drown you just now? "

"Yes," said Little Claus; "you threw me into the river about
half an hour ago. "

"But wherever did you get all these fine beasts? " asked Great
Claus.

"These beasts are sea-cattle," replied Little Claus. "I'll tell
you the whole story, and thank you for drowning me; I am above you
now, I am really very rich. I was frightened, to be sure, while I
lay tied up in the sack, and the wind whistled in my ears when you
threw me into the river from the bridge, and I sank to the bottom
immediately; but I did not hurt myself, for I fell upon beautifully
soft grass which grows down there; and in a moment, the sack opened,
and the sweetest little maiden came towards me. She had snow-white
robes, and a wreath of green leaves on her wet hair. She took me by
the hand, and said, 'So you are come, Little Claus, and here are
some cattle for you to begin with. About a mile farther on the road,
there is another herd for you. ' Then I saw that the river formed a
great highway for the people who live in the sea. They were walking
and driving here and there from the sea to the land at the, spot where
the river terminates. The bed of the river was covered with the
loveliest flowers and sweet fresh grass. The fish swam past me as
rapidly as the birds do here in the air. How handsome all the people
were, and what fine cattle were grazing on the hills and in the
valleys! "

"But why did you come up again," said Great Claus, "if it was
all so beautiful down there? I should not have done so? "

"Well," said Little Claus, "it was good policy on my part; you
heard me say just now that I was told by the sea-maiden to go a mile
farther on the road, and I should find a whole herd of cattle. By
the road she meant the river, for she could not travel any other
way; but I knew the winding of the river, and how it bends,
sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left, and it seemed a long
way, so I chose a shorter one; and, by coming up to the land, and then
driving across the fields back again to the river, I shall save half a
mile, and get all my cattle more quickly. "

"What a lucky fellow you are! " exclaimed Great Claus. "Do you
think I should get any sea-cattle if I went down to the bottom of
the river? "

"Yes, I think so," said Little Claus; "but I cannot carry you
there in a sack, you are too heavy. However if you will go there
first, and then creep into a sack, I will throw you in with the
greatest pleasure. "

"Thank you," said Great Claus; "but remember, if I do not get
any sea-cattle down there I shall come up again and give you a good
thrashing. "

"No, now, don't be too fierce about it! " said Little Claus, as
they walked on towards the river. When they approached it, the cattle,
who were very thirsty, saw the stream, and ran down to drink.

"See what a hurry they are in," said Little Claus, "they are
longing to get down again. "

"Come, help me, make haste," said Great Claus; "or you'll get
beaten. " So he crept into a large sack, which had been lying across
the back of one of the oxen.

"Put in a stone," said Great Claus, "or I may not sink. "

"Oh, there's not much fear of that," he replied; still he put a
large stone into the bag, and then tied it tightly, and gave it a
push.

"Plump! " In went Great Claus, and immediately sank to the bottom
of the river.

"I'm afraid he will not find any cattle," said Little Claus, and
then he drove his own beasts homewards.




THE LITTLE ELDER-TREE MOTHER

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 ground and
make a garden. '

"'Yes,' said the old woman, 'I remember it very well; we used to
water the branches, and one of them, an elder-tree branch, took
root, and grew and became the large tree under which we are now
sitting as old people. '

"'Certainly, you are right,' he said; 'and in yonder corner
stood a large water-tub; there I used to sail my boat, which I had cut
out myself--it sailed so well; but soon I had to sail somewhere else. '

"'But first we went to school to learn something,' she said,
'and then we were confirmed; we both wept on that day, but in the
afternoon we went out hand in hand, and ascended the high round
tower and looked out into the wide world right over Copenhagen and the
sea; then we walked to Fredericksburg, where the king and the queen
were sailing about in their magnificent boat on the canals. '

"'But soon I had to sail about somewhere else, and for many
years I was travelling about far away from home. '

"'And I often cried about you, for I was afraid lest you were
drowned and lying at the bottom of the sea. Many a time I got up in
the night and looked if the weathercock had turned; it turned often,
but you did not return. I remember one day distinctly: the rain was
pouring down in torrents; the dust-man had come to the house where I
was in service; I went down with the dust-bin and stood for a moment
in the doorway, and looked at the dreadful weather. Then the postman
gave me a letter; it was from you. Heavens! how that letter had
travelled about. I tore it open and read it; I cried and laughed at
the same time, and was so happy! Therein was written that you were
staying in the hot countries, where the coffee grows. These must be
marvellous countries. You said a great deal about them, and I read all
while the rain was pouring down and I was standing there with the
dust-bin. Then suddenly some one put his arm round my waist-'

"'Yes, and you gave him a hearty smack on the cheek,' said the old
man.

"'I did not know that it was you--you had come as quickly as
your letter; and you looked so handsome, and so you do still. You
had a large yellow silk handkerchief in your pocket and a shining
hat on. You looked so well, and the weather in the street was
horrible! '

"'Then we married,' he said. 'Do you remember how we got our first
boy, and then Mary, Niels, Peter, John, and Christian? '

"'Oh yes; and now they have all grown up, and have become useful
members of society, whom everybody cares for. '

"'And their children have had children again,' said the old
sailor. 'Yes, these are children's children, and they are strong and
healthy. If I am not mistaken, our wedding took place at this season
of the year. '

"'Yes, to-day is your golden wedding-day,' said the little
elder-tree mother, stretching her head down between the two old
people, who thought that she was their neighbour who was nodding to
them; they looked at each other and clasped hands. Soon afterwards the
children and grandchildren came, for they knew very well that it was
the golden wedding-day; they had already wished them joy and happiness
in the morning, but the old people had forgotten it, although they
remembered things so well that had passed many, many years ago. The
elder-tree smelt strongly, and the setting sun illuminated the faces
of the two old people, so that they looked quite rosy; the youngest of
the grandchildren danced round them, and cried merrily that there
would be a feast in the evening, for they were to have hot potatoes;
and the elder mother nodded in the tree and cried 'Hooray' with the
others. "

"But that was no fairy tale," said the little boy who had listened
to it.

"You will presently understand it," said the old man who told
the story. "Let us ask little elder-tree mother about it. "

"That was no fairy tale," said the little elder-tree mother;
"but now it comes! Real life furnishes us with subjects for the most
wonderful fairy tales; for otherwise my beautiful elder-bush could not
have grown forth out of the teapot. "

And then she took the little boy out of bed and placed him on
her bosom; the elder branches, full of blossoms, closed over them;
it was as if they sat in a thick leafy bower which flew with them
through the air; it was beautiful beyond all description. The little
elder-tree mother had suddenly become a charming young girl, but her
dress was still of the same green material, covered with white
blossoms, as the elder-tree mother had worn; she had a real elder
blossom on her bosom, and a wreath of the same flowers was wound round
her curly golden hair; her eyes were so large and so blue that it
was wonderful to look at them. She and the boy kissed each other,
and then they were of the same age and felt the same joys. They walked
hand in hand out of the bower, and now stood at home in a beautiful
flower garden. Near the green lawn the father's walking-stick was tied
to a post. There was life in this stick for the little ones, for as
soon as they seated themselves upon it the polished knob turned into a
neighing horse's head, a long black mane was fluttering in the wind,
and four strong slender legs grew out. The animal was fiery and
spirited; they galloped round the lawn. "Hooray! now we shall ride far
away, many miles! " said the boy; "we shall ride to the nobleman's
estate where we were last year. " And they rode round the lawn again,
and the little girl, who, as we know, was no other than the little
elder-tree mother, continually cried, "Now we are in the country! Do
you see the farmhouse there, with the large baking stove, which
projects like a gigantic egg out of the wall into the road? The
elder-tree spreads its branches over it, and the cock struts about and
scratches for the hens. Look how proud he is! Now we are near the
church; it stands on a high hill, under the spreading oak trees; one
of them is half dead! Now we are at the smithy, where the fire roars
and the half-naked men beat with their hammers so that the sparks
fly far and wide. Let's be off to the beautiful farm! " And they passed
by everything the little girl, who was sitting behind on the stick,
described, and the boy saw it, and yet they only went round the
lawn. Then they played in a side-walk, and marked out a little
garden on the ground; she took elder-blossoms out of her hair and
planted them, and they grew exactly like those the old people
planted when they were children, as we have heard before. They
walked about hand in hand, just as the old couple had done when they
were little, but they did not go to the round tower nor to the
Fredericksburg garden. No; the little girl seized the boy round the
waist, and then they flew far into the country. It was spring and it
became summer, it was autumn and it became winter, and thousands of
pictures reflected themselves in the boy's eyes and heart, and the
little girl always sang again, "You will never forget that! " And
during their whole flight the elder-tree smelt so sweetly; he
noticed the roses and the fresh beeches, but the elder-tree smelt much
stronger, for the flowers were fixed on the little girl's bosom,
against which the boy often rested his head during the flight.

"It is beautiful here in spring," said the little girl, and they
were again in the green beechwood, where the thyme breathed forth
sweet fragrance at their feet, and the pink anemones looked lovely
in the green moss. "Oh! that it were always spring in the fragrant
beechwood!
"

"Here it is splendid in summer! " she said, and they passed by
old castles of the age of chivalry. The high walls and indented
battlements were reflected in the water of the ditches, on which swans
were swimming and peering into the old shady avenues. The corn waved
in the field like a yellow sea. Red and yellow flowers grew in the
ditches, wild hops and convolvuli in full bloom in the hedges. In
the evening the moon rose, large and round, and the hayricks 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 beautiful it was! " said the little boy. "Mother, I have
been to warm countries! "

"I believe you," said the mother; "if one takes two cups of hot
elder-tea it is quite natural that one gets into warm countries! "
And she covered him up well, so that he might not take cold. "You have
slept soundly while I was arguing with the old man whether it was a
story or a fairy tale! "

"And what has become of the little elder-tree mother? " asked the
boy.

"She is in the teapot," said the mother; "and there she may
remain. "




LITTLE IDA'S FLOWERS

"My poor flowers are quite dead," said little Ida, "they were so
pretty yesterday evening, and now all the leaves are hanging down
quite withered. What do they do that for," she asked, of the student
who sat on the sofa; she liked him very much, he could tell the most
amusing stories, and cut out the prettiest pictures; hearts, and
ladies dancing, castles with doors that opened, as well as flowers; he
was a delightful student. "Why do the flowers look so faded to-day? "
she asked again, and pointed to her nosegay, which was quite withered.

"Don't you know what is the matter with them? " said the student.
"The flowers were at a ball last night, and therefore, it is no wonder
they hang their heads. "

"But flowers cannot dance? " cried little Ida.

"Yes indeed, they can," replied the student. "When it grows
dark, and everybody is asleep, they jump about quite merrily. They
have a ball almost every night. "

"Can children go to these balls? "

"Yes," said the student, "little daisies and lilies of the
valley. "

"Where do the beautiful flowers dance? " asked little Ida.

"Have you not often seen the large castle outside the gates of the
town, where the king lives in summer, and where the beautiful garden
is full of flowers? And have you not fed the swans with bread when
they swam towards you? Well, the flowers have capital balls there,
believe me. "

"I was in the garden out there yesterday with my mother," said
Ida, "but all the leaves were off the trees, and there was not a
single flower left. Where are they? I used to see so many in the
summer. "

"They are in the castle," replied the student. "You must know that
as soon as the king and all the court are gone into the town, the
flowers run out of the garden into the castle, and you should see
how merry they are. The two most beautiful roses seat themselves on
the throne, and are called the king and queen, then all the red
cockscombs range themselves on each side, and bow, these are the
lords-in-waiting. After that the pretty flowers come in, and there
is a grand ball. The blue violets represent little naval cadets, and
dance with hyacinths and crocuses which they call young ladies. The
tulips and tiger-lilies are the old ladies who sit and watch the
dancing, so that everything may be conducted with order and
propriety. "

"But," said little Ida, "is there no one there to hurt the flowers
for dancing in the king's castle? "

"No one knows anything about it," said the student. "The old
steward of the castle, who has to watch there at night, sometimes
comes in; but he carries a great bunch of keys, and as soon as the
flowers hear the keys rattle, they run and hide themselves behind
the long curtains, and stand quite still, just peeping their heads
out. Then the old steward says, 'I smell flowers here,' but he
cannot see them. "

"Oh how capital," said little Ida, clapping her hands. "Should I
be able to see these flowers? "

"Yes," said the student, "mind you think of it the next time you
go out, no doubt you will see them, if you peep through the window.
I did so to-day, and I saw a long yellow lily lying stretched out on
the sofa. She was a court lady. "

"Can the flowers from the Botanical Gardens go to these balls? "
asked Ida. "It is such a distance! "

"Oh yes," said the student, "whenever they like, for they can
fly. Have you not seen those beautiful red, white, and yellow
butterflies, that look like flowers? They were flowers once. They have
flown off their stalks into the air, and flap their leaves as if
they were little wings to make them fly. Then, if they behave well,
they obtain permission to fly about during the day, instead of being
obliged to sit still on their stems at home, and so in time their
leaves become real wings. It may be, however, that the flowers in
the Botanical Gardens have never been to the king's palace, and,
therefore, they know nothing of the merry doings at night, which
take place there. I will tell you what to do, and the botanical
professor, who lives close by here, will be so surprised. You know him
very well, do you not? Well, next time you go into his garden, you
must tell one of the flowers that there is going to be a grand ball at
the castle, then that flower will tell all the others, and they will
fly away to the castle as soon as possible. And when the professor
walks into his garden, there will not be a single flower left. How
he will wonder what has become of them! "

"But how can one flower tell another? Flowers cannot speak? "

"No, certainly not," replied the student; "but they can make
signs. Have you not often seen that when the wind blows they nod at
one another, and rustle all their green leaves? "

"Can the professor understand the signs? " asked Ida.

"Yes, to be sure he can. He went one morning into his garden,
and saw a stinging nettle making signs with its leaves to a
beautiful red carnation. It was saying, 'You are so pretty, I like you
very much. ' But the professor did not approve of such nonsense, so
he clapped his hands on the nettle to stop it. Then the leaves,
which are its fingers, stung him so sharply that he has never ventured
to touch a nettle since. "

"Oh how funny! " said Ida, and she laughed.

"How can anyone put such notions into a child's head? " said a
tiresome lawyer, who had come to pay a visit, and sat on the sofa.
He did not like the student, and would grumble when he saw him cutting
out droll or amusing pictures. Sometimes it would be a man hanging
on a gibbet and holding a heart in his hand as if he had been stealing
hearts. Sometimes it was an old witch riding through the air on a
broom and carrying her husband on her nose. But the lawyer did not
like such jokes, and he would say as he had just said, "How can anyone
put such nonsense into a child's head! what absurd fancies there are! "

But to little Ida, all these stories which the student told her
about the flowers, seemed very droll, and she thought over them a
great deal. The flowers did hang their heads, because they had been
dancing all night, and were very tired, and most likely they were ill.
Then she took them into the room where a number of toys lay on a
pretty little table, and the whole of the table drawer besides was
full of beautiful things. Her doll Sophy lay in the doll's bed asleep,
and little Ida said to her, "You must really get up Sophy, and be
content to lie in the drawer to-night; the poor flowers are ill, and
they must lie in your bed, then perhaps they will get well again. "
So she took the doll out, who looked quite cross, and said not a
single word, for she was angry at being turned out of her bed. Ida
placed the flowers in the doll's bed, and drew the quilt over them.
Then she told them to lie quite still and be good, while she made some
tea for them, so that they might be quite well and able to get up
the next morning. And she drew the curtains close round the little
bed, so that the sun might not shine in their eyes. During the whole
evening she could not help thinking of what the student had told
her. And before she went to bed herself, she was obliged to peep
behind the curtains into the garden where all her mother's beautiful
flowers grew, hyacinths and tulips, and many others. Then she
whispered to them quite softly, "I know you are going to a ball
to-night. " But the flowers appeared as if they did not understand, and
not a leaf moved; still Ida felt quite sure she knew all about it. She
lay awake a long time after she was in bed, thinking how pretty it
must be to see all the beautiful flowers dancing in the king's garden.
"I wonder if my flowers have really been there," she said to
herself, and then she fell asleep. In the night she awoke; she had
been dreaming of the flowers and of the student, as well as of the
tiresome lawyer who found fault with him. It was quite still in
Ida's bedroom; the night-lamp burnt on the table, and her father and
mother were asleep. "I wonder if my flowers are still lying in Sophy's
bed," she thought to herself; "how much I should like to know. " She
raised herself a little, and glanced at the door of the room where all
her flowers and playthings lay; it was partly open, and as she
listened, it seemed as if some one in the room was playing the
piano, but softly and more prettily than she had ever before heard it.
"Now all the flowers are certainly dancing in there," she thought, "oh
how much I should like to see them," but she did not dare move for
fear of disturbing her father and mother. "If they would only come
in here," she thought; but they did not come, and the music
continued to play so beautifully, and was so pretty, that she could
resist no longer. She crept out of her little bed, went softly to
the door and looked into the room. Oh what a splendid sight there
was to be sure! There was no night-lamp burning, but the room appeared
quite light, for the moon shone through the window upon the floor, and
made it almost like day. All the hyacinths and tulips stood in two
long rows down the room, not a single flower remained in the window,
and the flower-pots were all empty. The flowers were dancing
gracefully on the floor, making turns and holding each other by
their long green leaves as they swung round. At the piano sat a
large yellow lily which little Ida was sure she had seen in the
summer, for she remembered the student saying she was very much like
Miss Lina, one of Ida's friends. They all laughed at him then, but now
it seemed to little Ida as if the tall, yellow flower was really
like the young lady. She had just the same manners while playing,
bending her long yellow face from side to side, and nodding in time to
the beautiful music. Then she saw a large purple crocus jump into
the middle of the table where the playthings stood, go up to the
doll's bedstead and draw back the curtains; there lay the sick
flowers, but they got up directly, and nodded to the others as a
sign that they wished to dance with them. The old rough doll, with the
broken mouth, stood up and bowed to the pretty flowers. They did not
look ill at all now, but jumped about and were very merry, yet none of
them noticed little Ida. Presently it seemed as if something fell from
the table. Ida looked that way, and saw a slight carnival rod
jumping down among the flowers as if it belonged to them; it was,
however, very smooth and neat, and a little wax doll with a broad
brimmed hat on her head, like the one worn by the lawyer, sat upon it.
The carnival rod hopped about among the flowers on its three red
stilted feet, and stamped quite loud when it danced the Mazurka; the
flowers could not perform this dance, they were too light to stamp
in that manner. All at once the wax doll which rode on the carnival
rod seemed to grow larger and taller, and it turned round and said
to the paper flowers, "How can you put such things in a child's
head? they are all foolish fancies;" and then the doll was exactly
like the lawyer with the broad brimmed hat, and looked as yellow and
as cross as he did; but the paper dolls struck him on his thin legs,
and he shrunk up again and became quite a little wax doll. This was
very amusing, and Ida could not help laughing. The carnival rod went
on dancing, and the lawyer was obliged to dance also. It was no use,
he might make himself great and tall, or remain a little wax doll with
a large black hat; still he must dance. Then at last the other flowers
interceded for him, especially those who had lain in the doll's bed,
and the carnival rod gave up his dancing. At the same moment a loud
knocking was heard in the drawer, where Ida's doll Sophy lay with many
other toys. Then the rough doll ran to the end of the table, laid
himself flat down upon it, and began to pull the drawer out a little
way.

Then Sophy raised himself, and looked round quite astonished,
"There must be a ball here to-night," said Sophy. "Why did not
somebody tell me? "

"Will you dance with me? " said the rough doll.

"You are the right sort to dance with, certainly," said she,
turning her back upon him.

Then she seated herself on the edge of the drawer, and thought
that perhaps one of the flowers would ask her to dance; but none of
them came. Then she coughed, "Hem, hem, a-hem;" but for all that not
one came. The shabby doll now danced quite alone, and not very
badly, after all. As none of the flowers seemed to notice Sophy, she
let herself down from the drawer to the floor, so as to make a very
great noise. All the flowers came round her directly, and asked if she
had hurt herself, especially those who had lain in her bed. But she
was not hurt at all, and Ida's flowers thanked her for the use of
the nice bed, and were very kind to her. They led her into the
middle of the room, where the moon shone, and danced with her, while
all the other flowers formed a circle round them. Then Sophy was
very happy, and said they might keep her bed; she did not mind lying
in the drawer at all. But the flowers thanked her very much, and
said,--

"We cannot live long. To-morrow morning we shall be quite dead;
and you must tell little Ida to bury us in the garden, near to the
grave of the canary; then, in the summer we shall wake up and be
more beautiful than ever. "

"No, you must not die," said Sophy, as she kissed the flowers.

Then the door of the room opened, and a number of beautiful
flowers danced in. Ida could not imagine where they could come from,
unless they were the flowers from the king's garden. First came two
lovely roses, with little golden crowns on their heads; these were the
king and queen. Beautiful stocks and carnations followed, bowing to
every one present. They had also music with them. Large poppies and
peonies had pea-shells for instruments, and blew into them till they
were quite red in the face. The bunches of blue hyacinths and the
little white snowdrops jingled their bell-like flowers, as if they
were real bells. Then came many more flowers: blue violets, purple
heart's-ease, daisies, and lilies of the valley, and they all danced
together, and kissed each other. It was very beautiful to behold.

At last the flowers wished each other good-night. Then little
Ida crept back into her bed again, and dreamt of all she had seen.
When she arose the next morning, she went quickly to the little table,
to see if the flowers were still there. She drew aside the curtains of
the little bed. There they all lay, but quite faded; much more so than
the day before. Sophy was lying in the drawer where Ida had placed
her; but she looked very sleepy.

"Do you remember what the flowers told you to say to me? " said
little Ida. But Sophy looked quite stupid, and said not a single word.

"You are not kind at all," said Ida; "and yet they all danced with
you. "

Then she took a little paper box, on which were painted
beautiful birds, and laid the dead flowers in it.

"This shall be your pretty coffin," she said; "and by and by, when
my cousins come to visit me, they shall help me to bury you out in the
garden; so that next summer you may grow up again more beautiful
than ever. "

Her cousins were two good-tempered boys, whose names were James
and Adolphus.