The Fir Tree

: Hans Andersens Fairy Tales

FAR away in the forest, where the warm sun and the fresh air made a

sweet resting place, grew a pretty little fir tree. The situation was

all that could be desired; and yet the tree was not happy, it wished so

much to be like its tall companions, the pines and firs which grew

around it.



The sun shone, and the soft air fluttered its leaves, and the little

peasant children passed by, prattling merrily; but he fir tree did not

heed them.



Sometimes the children would bring a large basket of raspberries or

strawberries, wreathed on straws, and seat themselves near the fir

tree, and say, "Is it not a pretty little tree?" which made it feel even

more unhappy than before.



And yet all this while the tree grew a notch or joint taller every year,

for by the number of joints in the stem of a fir tree we can discover

its age.



Still, as it grew, it complained: "Oh! how I wish I were as tall as the

other trees; then I would spread out my branches on every side, and my

crown would overlook the wide world around. I should have the birds

building their nests on my boughs, and when the wind blew, I should bow

with stately dignity, like my tall companions."



So discontented was the tree, that it took no pleasure in the warm

sunshine, the birds, or the rosy clouds that floated over it morning and

evening.



Sometimes in winter, when the snow lay white and glittering on the

ground, there was a little hare that would come springing along, and

jump right over the little tree's head; then how mortified it would

feel.



Two winters passed; and when the third arrived, the tree had grown so

tall that the hare was obliged to run round it. Yet it remained

unsatisfied and would exclaim: "Oh! to grow, to grow; if I could but

keep on growing tall and old! There is nothing else worth caring for in

the world."



In the autumn the woodcutters came, as usual, and cut down several of

the tallest trees; and the young fir, which was now grown to a good,

full height, shuddered as the noble trees fell to the earth with a

crash.



After the branches were lopped off, the trunks looked so slender and

bare that they could scarcely be recognized. Then they were placed, one

upon another, upon wagons and drawn by horses out of the forest. Where

could they be going? What would become of them? The young fir tree

wished very much to know.



So in the spring, when the swallows and the storks came, it asked: "Do

you know where those trees were taken? Did you meet them?"



The swallows knew nothing; but the stork, after a little reflection,

nodded his head and said: "Yes, I think I do. As I flew from Egypt, I

met several new ships, and they had fine masts that smelt like fir.

These must have been the trees; and I assure you they were stately; they

sailed right gloriously!"



"Oh, how I wish I were tall enough to go on the sea," said the fir tree.

"Tell me what is this sea, and what does it look like?"



"It would take too much time to explain--a great deal too much," said

the stork, flying quickly away.



"Rejoice in thy youth," said the sunbeam; "rejoice in thy fresh growth

and in the young life that is in thee."



And the wind kissed the tree, and the dew watered it with tears, but the

fir tree regarded them not.



* * * * *



Christmas time drew near, and many young trees were cut down, some that

were even smaller and younger than the fir tree, who enjoyed neither

rest nor peace for longing to leave its forest home. These young trees,

which were chosen for their beauty, kept their branches, and they, also,

were laid on wagons and drawn by horses far away out of the forest.



"Where are they going?" asked the fir tree. "They are not taller than I

am; indeed, one is not so tall. And why do they keep all their branches?

Where are they going?"



"We know, we know," sang the sparrows; "we have looked in at the windows

of the houses in the town, and we know what is done with them. Oh! you

cannot think what honor and glory they receive. They are dressed up in

the most splendid manner. We have seen them standing in the middle of a

warm room, and adorned with all sorts of beautiful things--honey cakes,

gilded apples, playthings, and many hundreds of wax tapers."



"And then," asked the fir tree, trembling in all its branches, "and then

what happens?"



"We did not see any more," said the sparrows; "but this was enough for

us."



"I wonder whether anything so brilliant will ever happen to me," thought

the fir tree. "It would be better even than crossing the sea. I long for

it almost with pain. Oh, when will Christmas be here? I am now as tall

and well grown as those which were taken away last year. O that I were

now laid on the wagon, or standing in the warm room with all that

brightness and splendor around me! Something better and more beautiful

is to come after, or the trees would not be so decked out. Yes, what

follows will be grander and more splendid. What can it be? I am weary

with longing. I scarcely know what it is that I feel."



"Rejoice in our love," said the air and the sunlight. "Enjoy thine own

bright life in the fresh air."



But the tree would not rejoice, though it grew taller every day, and

winter and summer its dark-green foliage might be seen in the forest,

while passers-by would say, "What a beautiful tree!"



A short time before the next Christmas the discontented fir tree was the

first to fall. As the ax cut sharply through the stem and divided the

pith, the tree fell with a groan to the earth, conscious of pain and

faintness and forgetting all its dreams of happiness in sorrow at

leaving its home in the forest. It knew that it should never again see

its dear old companions the trees, nor the little bushes and

many-colored flowers that had grown by its side; perhaps not even the

birds. Nor was the journey at all pleasant.



The tree first recovered itself while being unpacked in the courtyard of

a house, with several other trees; and it heard a man say: "We only want

one, and this is the prettiest. This is beautiful!"



Then came two servants in grand livery and carried the fir tree into a

large and beautiful apartment. Pictures hung on the walls, and near the

tall tile stove stood great china vases with lions on the lids. There

were rocking-chairs, silken sofas, and large tables covered with

pictures; and there were books, and playthings that had cost a hundred

times a hundred dollars--at least so said the children.



Then the fir tree was placed in a large tub full of sand--but green

baize hung all round it so that no one could know it was a tub--and it

stood on a very handsome carpet. Oh, how the fir tree trembled! What was

going to happen to him now? Some young ladies came, and the servants

helped them to adorn the tree.



On one branch they hung little bags cut out of colored paper, and each

bag was filled with sweetmeats. From other branches hung gilded apples

and walnuts, as if they had grown there; and above and all around were

hundreds of red, blue, and white tapers, which were fastened upon the

branches. Dolls, exactly like real men and women, were placed under the

green leaves,--the tree had never seen such things before,--and at the

very top was fastened a glittering star made of gold tinsel. Oh, it was

very beautiful. "This evening," they all exclaimed, "how bright it will

be!"



"O that the evening were come," thought the tree, "and the tapers

lighted! Then I shall know what else is going to happen. Will the trees

of the forest come to see me? Will the sparrows peep in at the windows,

I wonder, as they fly? Shall I grow faster here than in the forest, and

shall I keep on all these ornaments during summer and winter?" But

guessing was of very little use. His back ached with trying, and this

pain is as bad for a slender fir tree as headache is for us.



At last the tapers were lighted, and then what a glistening blaze of

splendor the tree presented! It trembled so with joy in all its branches

that one of the candles fell among the green leaves and burned some of

them. "Help! help!" exclaimed the young ladies; but no harm was done,

for they quickly extinguished the fire.



After this the tree tried not to tremble at all, though the fire

frightened him, he was so anxious not to hurt any of the beautiful

ornaments, even while their brilliancy dazzled him.



And now the folding doors were thrown open, and a troop of children

rushed in as if they intended to upset the tree, and were followed more

slowly by their elders. For a moment the little ones stood silent with

astonishment, and then they shouted for joy till the room rang; and they

danced merrily round the tree while one present after another was taken

from it.



"What are they doing? What will happen next?" thought the tree. At last

the candles burned down to the branches and were put out. Then the

children received permission to plunder the tree.



Oh, how they rushed upon it! There was such a riot that the branches

cracked, and had it not been fastened with the glistening star to the

ceiling, it must have been thrown down.



Then the children danced about with their pretty toys, and no one

noticed the tree except the children's maid, who came and peeped among

the branches to see if an apple or a fig had been forgotten.



* * * * *



"A story, a story," cried the children, pulling a little fat man towards

the tree.



"Now we shall be in the green shade," said the man as he seated himself

under it, "and the tree will have the pleasure of hearing, also; but I

shall only relate one story. What shall it be? Ivede-Avede or Humpty

Dumpty, who fell downstairs, but soon got up again, and at last married

a princess?"



"Ivede-Avede," cried some; "Humpty Dumpty," cried others; and there was

a famous uproar. But the fir tree remained quite still and thought to

himself: "Shall I have anything to do with all this? Ought I to make a

noise, too?" but he had already amused them as much as they wished and

they paid no attention to him.



Then the old man told them the story of Humpty Dumpty--how he fell

downstairs, and was raised up again, and married a princess. And the

children clapped their hands and cried, "Tell another, tell another,"

for they wanted to hear the story of Ivede-Avede; but this time they had

only "Humpty Dumpty." After this the fir tree became quite silent and

thoughtful. Never had the birds in the forest told such tales as that of

Humpty Dumpty, who fell downstairs, and yet married a princess.



"Ah, yes! so it happens in the world," thought the fir tree. He believed

it all, because it was related by such a pleasant man.



"Ah, well!" he thought, "who knows? Perhaps I may fall down, too, and

marry a princess;" and he looked forward joyfully to the next evening,

expecting to be again decked out with lights and playthings, gold and

fruit. "To-morrow I will not tremble," thought he; "I will enjoy all my

splendor, and I shall hear the story of Humpty Dumpty again, and perhaps

of Ivede-Avede." And the tree remained quiet and thoughtful all night.



In the morning the servants and the housemaid came in. "Now," thought

the fir tree, "all my splendor is going to begin again." But they

dragged him out of the room and upstairs to the garret and threw him on

the floor in a dark corner where no daylight shone, and there they left

him. "What does this mean?" thought the tree. "What am I to do here? I

can hear nothing in a place like this;" and he leaned against the wall

and thought and thought.



And he had time enough to think, for days and nights passed and no one

came near him; and when at last somebody did come, it was only to push

away some large boxes in a corner. So the tree was completely hidden

from sight, as if it had never existed.






"It is winter now," thought the tree; "the ground is hard and covered

with snow, so that people cannot plant me. I shall be sheltered here, I

dare say, until spring comes. How thoughtful and kind everybody is to

me! Still, I wish this place were not so dark and so dreadfully

lonely, with not even a little hare to look at. How pleasant it was

out in the forest while the snow lay on the ground, when the hare would

run by, yes, and jump over me, too, although I did not like it then. Oh!

it is terribly lonely here."



"Squeak, squeak," said a little mouse, creeping cautiously towards the

tree; then came another, and they both sniffed at the fir tree and crept

in and out between the branches.



"Oh, it is very cold," said the little mouse. "If it were not we should

be very comfortable here, shouldn't we, 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?" asked the mice, who were full of curiosity;

"and what do you know? 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; one can go in thin

and come out fat."



"I know nothing of that," 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 on 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 tell," 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: "Yes, those were happy days; but they may come again. Humpty

Dumpty fell downstairs, 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; a real princess, a beautiful

princess, she was to him.



"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 were 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 the rats 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 that one story?" asked the rats.



"Only that one," replied the fir tree. "I heard it on the happiest

evening in 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 went their ways.



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 past, 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 up the

garret; the boxes were packed away, and the tree was pulled out of the

corner and thrown roughly on the floor; then the servants 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 downstairs 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 swallows flew here and there, crying, "Twit, twit,

twit, my mate is coming"; but it was not the fir tree they meant.



"Now I shall live," cried the tree joyfully, spreading out its branches;

but alas! they were all withered and yellow, and it lay in a corner

among weeds and nettles. The star of gold paper still stuck in the top

of the tree and glittered in the sunshine.



Two of the merry children who had danced round the tree at Christmas and

had been so happy were playing in the same courtyard. The youngest saw

the gilded star and ran and pulled it off the tree. "Look what is

sticking to the ugly old fir tree," said the child, treading on the

branches till they crackled under his boots.



And the tree saw all the fresh, bright flowers in the garden and then

looked at itself and wished it had remained in the dark corner of the

garret. It thought of its fresh youth in the forest, of the merry

Christmas evening, and of the little mice who had listened to the story

of Humpty Dumpty.



"Past! past!" said the poor tree. "Oh, had I but enjoyed myself while I

could have done so! but now it is too late."



Then a lad came and chopped the tree into small pieces, till a large

bundle lay in a heap on the ground. The pieces were placed in a fire,

and they quickly blazed up brightly, while the tree sighed so deeply

that each sigh was like a little pistol shot. Then the children who were

at play came and seated themselves in front of the fire, and looked at

it and cried, "Pop, pop." But at each "pop," which was a deep sigh, the

tree was thinking of a summer day in the forest or of some winter night

there when the stars shone brightly, and of Christmas evening, and of

Humpty Dumpty,--the only story it had ever heard or knew how to

relate,--till at last it was consumed.



The boys still played in the garden, and the youngest wore on his breast

the golden star with which the tree had been adorned during the happiest

evening of its existence. Now all was past; the tree's life was past and

the story also past--for all stories must come to an end at some time or

other.