The Little Robber Girl
The Boy Who Cried Wolf
AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES
Animal Sketches And Stories
Blondine Bonne Biche and Beau Minon
BRER RABBIT and HIS NEIGHBORS
CHINESE MOTHER-GOOSE RHYMES
FABLES FOR CHILDREN
FABLES FROM INDIA
FATHER PLAYS AND MOTHER PLAYS
FIRST STORIES FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
For Classes Ii. And Iii.
For Classes Iv. And V.
For Kindergarten And Class I.
FUN FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
Good Little Henry
JAPANESE AND OTHER ORIENTAL TALES]
Jean De La Fontaine
King Alexander's Adventures
KINGS AND WARRIORS
LAND AND WATER FAIRIES
Lessons From Nature
LITTLE STORIES that GROW BIG
MODERN FAIRY TALES
MOTHER GOOSE CONTINUED
MOTHER GOOSE JINGLES
MOTHER GOOSE SONGS AND STORIES
Myths And Legends
NEGLECT THE FIRE
ON POPULAR EDUCATION
PLACES AND FAMILIES
Poems Of Nature
RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER)
RHYMES CONCERNING "MOTHER"
RIDING SONGS for FATHER'S KNEE
ROMANCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES
SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY
Selections From The Bible
SLEEPY-TIME SONGS AND STORIES
Some Children's Poets
Songs Of Life
STORIES BY FAVORITE AMERICAN WRITERS
STORIES FOR CHILDREN
STORIES for LITTLE BOYS
STORIES FROM BOTANY
STORIES FROM GREAT BRITAIN
STORIES FROM IRELAND
STORIES FROM PHYSICS
STORIES FROM SCANDINAVIA
STORIES FROM ZOOLOGY
STORIES _for_ LITTLE GIRLS
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK
The King Of The Golden River; Or, The Black Brothers
The Little Grey Mouse
THE OLD FAIRY TALES
The Princess Rosette
THE THREE HERMITS
THE TWO OLD MEN
UNCLES AND AUNTS AND OTHER RELATIVES
VERSES ABOUT FAIRIES
WHAT MEN LIVE BY
WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS ALSO
from The Pink Fairy Book
Translated from the German of Hans Christian Andersen.
There was once a pretty little fir-tree in a wood. It was in a capital
position, for it could get sun, and there was enough air, and all around
grew many tall companions, both pines and firs. It did not heed the warm
sun and the fresh air, or notice the little peasant children who ran
about chattering when they came out to gather wild strawberries and
raspberries. Often they found a whole basketful and strung strawberries
on a straw; they would sit down by the little fir-tree and say, 'What a
pretty little one this is!' The tree did not like that at all.
By the next year it had grown a whole ring taller, and the year after
that another ring more, for you can always tell a fir-tree's age from
'Oh! if I were only a great tree like the others!' sighed the little
fir-tree, 'then I could stretch out my branches far and wide and look
out into the great world! The birds would build their nests in my
branches, and when the wind blew I would bow to it politely just like
the others!' It took no pleasure in the sunshine, nor in the birds, nor
in the rose-coloured clouds that sailed over it at dawn and at sunset.
Then the winter came, and the snow lay white and sparkling all around,
and a hare would come and spring right over the little fir-tree, which
annoyed it very much. But when two more winters had passed the fir-tree
was so tall that the hare had to run round it. 'Ah! to grow and grow,
and become great and old! that is the only pleasure in life,' thought
the tree. In the autumn the woodcutters used to come and hew some of the
tallest trees; this happened every year, and the young fir-tree would
shiver as the magnificent trees fell crashing and crackling to the
ground, their branches hewn off, and the great trunks left bare, so that
they were almost unrecognisable. But then they were laid on waggons
and dragged out of the wood by horses. 'Where are they going? What will
happen to them?'
In spring, when the swallows and storks came, the fir-tree asked them,
'Do you know where they were taken? Have you met them?'
The swallows knew nothing of them, but the stork nodded his head
thoughtfully, saying, 'I think I know. I met many new ships as I flew
from Egypt; there were splendid masts on the ships. I'll wager those
were they! They had the scent of fir-trees. Ah! those are grand, grand!'
'Oh! if I were only big enough to sail away over the sea too! What sort
of thing is the sea? what does it look like?'
'Oh! it would take much too long to tell you all that,' said the stork,
and off he went.
'Rejoice in your youth,' said the sunbeams, 'rejoice in the sweet
growing time, in the young life within you.'
And the wind kissed it and the dew wept tears over it, but the fir-tree
did not understand.
Towards Christmas-time quite little trees were cut down, some not as big
as the young fir-tree, or just the same age, and now it had no peace or
rest for longing to be away. These little trees, which were chosen for
their beauty, kept all their branches; they were put in carts and drawn
out of the wood by horses.
'Whither are those going?' asked the fir-tree; 'they are no bigger than
I, and one there was much smaller even! Why do they keep their branches?
Where are they taken to?'
'We know! we know!' twittered the sparrows. 'Down there in the city we
have peeped in at the windows, we know where they go! They attain to the
greatest splendour and magnificence you can imagine! We have looked in
at the windows and seen them planted in the middle of the warm room and
adorned with the most beautiful things-golden apples, sweet-meats, toys
and hundreds of candles.'
'And then?' asked the fir-tree, trembling in every limb with eagerness,
'and then? what happens then?'
'Oh, we haven't seen anything more than that. That was simply
'Am I too destined to the same brilliant career?' wondered the fir-tree
excitedly. 'That is even better than sailing over the sea! I am sick
with longing. If it were only Christmas! Now I am tall and grown-up like
those which were taken away last year. Ah, if I were only in the cart!
If I were only in the warm room with all the splendour and magnificence!
And then? Then comes something better, something still more beautiful,
else why should they dress us up? There must be something greater,
something grander to come--but what? Oh! I am pining away! I really
don't know what's the matter with me!'
'Rejoice in us,' said the air and sunshine, 'rejoice in your fresh youth
in the free air!'
But it took no notice, and just grew and grew; there it stood fresh and
green in winter and summer, and all who saw it said, 'What a beautiful
tree!' And at Christmas-time it was the first to be cut down. The axe
went deep into the pith; the tree fell to the ground with a groan; it
felt bruised and faint. It could not think of happiness, it was sad at
leaving its home, the spot where it had sprung up; it knew, too, that it
would never see again its dear old companions, or the little shrubs
and flowers, perhaps not even the birds. Altogether the parting was not
When the tree came to itself again it was packed in a yard with other
trees, and a man was saying, 'This is a splendid one, we shall only want
Then came two footmen in livery and carried the fir-tree to a large and
beautiful room. There were pictures hanging on the walls, and near the
Dutch stove stood great Chinese vases with lions on their lids; there
were armchairs, silk-covered sofas, big tables laden with picture-books
and toys, worth hundreds of pounds-at least, so the children said. The
fir-tree was placed in a great tub filled with sand, but no one could
see that it was a tub, for it was all hung with greenery and stood on a
gay carpet. How the tree trembled! What was coming now? On its
branches they hung little nets cut out of coloured paper, each full of
sugarplums; gilt apples and nuts hung down as if they were growing, over
a hundred red, blue, and white tapers were fastened among the branches.
Dolls as life-like as human beings--the fir-tree had never seen any
before were suspended among the green, and right up at the top was fixed
a gold tinsel star; it was gorgeous, quite unusually gorgeous!
'To-night,' they all said, 'to-night it will be lighted!'
'Ah!' thought the tree, 'if it were only evening! Then the tapers would
soon be lighted. What will happen then? I wonder whether the trees will
come from the wood to see me, or if the sparrows will fly against the
window panes? Am I to stand here decked out thus through winter and
It was not a bad guess, but the fir-tree had real bark-ache from sheer
longing, and bark-ache in trees is just as bad as head-ache in human
Now the tapers were lighted. What a glitter! What splendour! The tree
quivered in all its branches so much, that one of the candles caught
the green, and singed it. 'Take care!' cried the young ladies, and they
Now the tree did not even dare to quiver. It was really terrible! It was
so afraid of losing any of its ornaments, and it was quite bewildered by
all the radiance.
And then the folding doors were opened, and a crowd of children rushed
in, as though they wanted to knock down the whole tree, whilst the older
people followed soberly. The children stood quite silent, but only for
a moment, and then they shouted again, and danced round the tree, and
snatched off one present after another.
'What are they doing?' thought the tree. 'What is going to happen?' And
the tapers burnt low on the branches, and were put out one by one, and
then the children were given permission to plunder the tree. They rushed
at it so that all its boughs creaked; if it had not been fastened by the
gold star at the top to the ceiling, it would have been overthrown.
The children danced about with their splendid toys, and no one looked at
the tree, except the old nurse, who came and peeped amongst the boughs,
just to see if a fig or an apple had been forgotten.
'A story! a story!' cried the children, and dragged a little stout
man to the tree; he sat down beneath it, saying, 'Here we are in the
greenwood, and the tree will be delighted to listen! But I am only going
to tell one story. Shall it be Henny Penny or Humpty Dumpty who fell
downstairs, and yet gained great honour and married a princess?'
'Henny Penny!' cried some; 'Humpty Dumpty!' cried others; there was a
perfect babel of voices! Only the fir-tree kept silent, and thought, 'Am
I not to be in it? Am I to have nothing to do with it?'
But it had already been in it, and played out its part. And the man told
them about Humpty Dumpty who fell downstairs and married a princess. The
children clapped their hands and cried, 'Another! another!' They wanted
the story of Henny Penny also, but they only got Humpty Dumpty. The
fir-tree stood quite astonished and thoughtful; the birds in the wood
had never related anything like that. 'Humpty Dumpty fell downstairs and
yet married a princess! yes, that is the way of the world!' thought the
tree, and was sure it must be true, because such a nice man had told
the story. 'Well, who knows? Perhaps I shall fall downstairs and marry a
princess.' And it rejoiced to think that next day it would be decked out
again with candles, toys, glittering ornaments, and fruits. 'To-morrow
I shall quiver again with excitement. I shall enjoy to the full all my
splendour. To-morrow I shall hear Humpty Dumpty again, and perhaps Henny
Penny too.' And the tree stood silent and lost in thought all through
Next morning the servants came in. 'Now the dressing up will begin
again,' thought the tree. But they dragged it out of the room, and up
the stairs to the lumber-room, and put it in a dark corner, where no ray
of light could penetrate. 'What does this mean?' thought the tree. 'What
am I to do here? What is there for me to hear?' And it leant against the
wall, and thought and thought. And there was time enough for that, for
days and nights went by, and no one came; at last when some one did
come, it was only to put some great boxes into the corner. Now the tree
was quite covered; it seemed as if it had been quite forgotten.
'Now it is winter out-doors,' thought the fir-tree. 'The ground is hard
and covered with snow, they can't plant me yet, and that is why I am
staying here under cover till the spring comes. How thoughtful they are!
Only I wish it were not so terribly dark and lonely here; not even
a little hare! It was so nice out in the wood, when the snow lay all
around, and the hare leapt past me; yes, even when he leapt over me: but
I didn't like it then. It's so dreadfully lonely up here.'
'Squeak, squeak!' said a little mouse, stealing out, followed by a
second. They sniffed at the fir-tree, and then crept between its boughs.
'It's frightfully cold,' said the little mice. 'How nice it is to be
here! Don't you think so too, you old fir-tree?'
'I'm not at all old,' said the tree; 'there are many much older than I
'Where do you come from?' asked the mice, 'and what do you know?' They
were extremely inquisitive. 'Do tell us about the most beautiful
place in the world. Is that where you come from? Have you been in the
storeroom, where cheeses lie on the shelves, and hams hang from the
ceiling, where one dances on tallow candles, and where one goes in thin
and comes out fat?'
'I know nothing about that,' said the tree. 'But I know the wood, where
the sun shines, and the birds sing.' And then it told them all about
its young days, and the little mice had never heard anything like that
before, and they listened with all their ears, and said: 'Oh, how much
you have seen! How lucky you have been!'
'I?' said the fir-tree, and then it thought over what it had told them.
'Yes, on the whole those were very happy times.' But then it went on to
tell them about Christmas Eve, when it had been adorned with sweet-meats
'Oh!' said the little mice, 'how lucky you have been, you old fir-tree!'
'I'm not at all old' said the tree. 'I only came from the wood this
winter. I am only a little backward, perhaps, in my growth.'
'How beautifully you tell stories!' said the little mice. And next
evening they came with four others, who wanted to hear the tree's story,
and it told still more, for it remembered everything so clearly and
thought: 'Those were happy times! But they may come again. Humpty dumpty
fell downstairs, and yet he married a princess; perhaps I shall also
marry a princess!' And then it thought of a pretty little birch-tree
that grew out in the wood, and seemed to the fir-tree a real princess,
and a very beautiful one too.
'Who is Humpty Dumpty?' asked the little mice.
And then the tree told the whole story; it could remember every single
word, and the little mice were ready to leap on to the topmost branch
out of sheer joy! Next night many more mice came, and on Sunday even
two rats; but they did not care about the story, and that troubled the
little mice, for now they thought less of it too.
'Is that the only story you know?' asked the rats.
'The only one,' answered the tree. 'I heard that on my happiest evening,
but I did not realise then how happy I was.'
'That's a very poor story. Don't you know one about bacon or tallow
candles? a storeroom story?'
'No,' said the tree.
'Then we are much obliged to you,' said the rats, and they went back to
At last the little mice went off also, and the tree said, sighing:
'Really it was very pleasant when the lively little mice sat round and
listened whilst I told them stories. But now that's over too. But now I
will think of the time when I shall be brought out again, to keep up my
But when did that happen? Well, it was one morning when they came to
tidy up the lumber-room; they threw it really rather roughly on the
floor, but a servant dragged it off at once downstairs, where there was
daylight once more.
'Now life begins again!' thought the tree. It felt the fresh air, the
first rays of the sun, and there it was out in the yard! Everything
passed so quickly; the tree quite forgot to notice itself, there was so
much to look at all around. The yard opened on a garden full of flowers;
the roses were so fresh and sweet, hanging over a little trellis,
the lime-trees were in blossom, and the swallows flew about, saying:
'Quirre-virre-vil, my husband has come home;' but it was not the
fir-tree they meant.
'Now I shall live,' thought the tree joyfully, stretching out its
branches wide; but, alas! they were all withered and yellow; and it was
lying in a corner among weeds and nettles. The golden star was still on
its highest bough, and it glittered in the bright sunlight. In the yard
some of the merry children were playing, who had danced so gaily round
the tree at Christmas. One of the little ones ran up, and tore off the
'Look what was left on the ugly old fir-tree!' he cried, and stamped on
the boughs so that they cracked under his feet.
And the tree looked at all the splendour and freshness of the flowers in
the garden, and then looked at itself, and wished that it had been left
lying in the dark corner of the lumber-room; it thought of its fresh
youth in the wood, of the merry Christmas Eve, and of the little mice
who had listened so happily to the story of Humpty Dumpty.
'Too late! Too late!' thought the old tree. 'If only I had enjoyed
myself whilst I could. Now all is over and gone.'
And a servant came and cut the tree into small pieces, there was quite
a bundle of them; they flickered brightly under the great copper in
the brew-house; the tree sighed deeply, and each sigh was like a
pistol-shot; so the children who were playing there ran up, and sat in
front of the fire, gazing at it, and crying, 'Piff! puff! bang!' But
for each report, which was really a sigh, the tree was thinking of a
summer's day in the wood, or of a winter's night out there, when the
stars were shining; it thought of Christmas Eve, and of Humpty Dumpty,
which was the only story it had heard, or could tell, and then the tree
had burnt away.
The children played on in the garden, and the youngest had the golden
star on his breast, which the tree had worn on the happiest evening of
its life; and now that was past--and the tree had passed away--and the
story too, all ended and done with.
And that's the way with all stories!
Here our Danish author ends. This is what people call sentiment, and I
hope you enjoy it!
Next: Hans The Mermaid's Son
Previous: The Snow-queen