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authorRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-14 19:53:09 -0700
committerRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-14 19:53:09 -0700
commit626e4b7a2584b9bc8411830410d253fc5e38fbe2 (patch)
tree204abc1248cb89ed4c45e1b72e507f8455148acb /30120-h
initial commit of ebook 30120HEADmain
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Happy Prince and Other Tales, by Oscar Wilde</title>
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+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30120 ***</div>
+<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Happy Prince and Other Tales, by Oscar
+Wilde, Illustrated by Charles Robinson</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class = "overall">
+<div class = "mynote">
+
+<p>Note:</p>
+
+<p>Images of the original pages are available through
+Internet Archive. See
+<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/happyprinceother00wild3">
+http://www.archive.org/details/happyprinceother00wild3</a></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class = "mynote">
+<p><a name = "start" id = "start">This text</a> uses UTF-8 (Unicode)
+file encoding. If the apostrophes and quotation marks in this paragraph
+appear as garbage, you may have an incompatible browser or unavailable
+fonts. First, make sure that your browser’s “character set” or “file
+encoding” is set to Unicode (UTF-8). You may also need to change the
+default font.</p>
+
+<p>Some marginal illustrations may be cut off at the edge. But if
+<i>all</i> margins are cut off, you may want to use a different
+browser.</p>
+
+<p class = "center"><a href = "#contents">Contents</a><br>
+<a href = "#illus">List of Plates</a><br>
+<a href = "#thumbs">Selected Thumbnails</a></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class = "overall">
+
+<div class = "beginning">
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/c_cover.jpg" width = "427" height = "649"
+alt = "The Happy Prince And Other Stories by Oscar Wilde"
+title = "The Happy Prince And Other Stories by Oscar Wilde"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "fullpage">
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/a_half_frontis.png" width = "152" height = "242"
+alt = "statue on a pedestal"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "titlepage bar">
+
+<table class = "background title"
+style = "background-image: url(images/a_halftitle.png);">
+<tr>
+<td class = "bottom">
+<h1 class = "left">THE<br>
+HAPPY<br>
+PRINCE<br>
+<span class = "smaller">AND<br>
+OTHER<br>
+TALES</span></h1>
+</td>
+<td style = "width: 135px; height: 200px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 200px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<!-- "images/a_halftitle.png" width = "177" height = "400" -->
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "fullpage bar">
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg2.png" width = "100" height = "150"
+alt = "cherub"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "frontis" id = "frontis">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">Frontis&shy;piece</span>
+<img src = "images/c_frontis.jpg" width = "398" height = "531"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+THE KING OF THE MOUNTAINS OF THE MOON</p>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<div class = "box">
+<h1>THE HAPPY PRINCE</h1>
+
+<h3>And Other Tales</h3>
+
+<h3 class = "smallcaps">By OSCAR WILDE</h3>
+
+<h4>Illustrated by CHARLES ROBINSON</h4>
+</div>
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/a_title.png" width = "271" height = "359"
+alt = "NNN"></p>
+
+<h4>NEW YORK: BRENTANO’S</h4>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "bar">
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class = "smaller">
+
+<p><i>First published by David Nutt, May, 1888</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Reprinted January, 1889; February, 1902; September, 1905;
+February, 1907; March, 1908; March, 1910</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Reset and published by arrangement with David Nutt by Duckworth
+&amp; Co., 1920</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Special Edition, reset. With illustrations by Charles Robinson,
+published by arrangement with David Nutt by Duckworth &amp; Co., 1913.
+Reprinted 1920</i></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h6>PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN<br>
+BY HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,<br>
+LONDON AND AYLESBURY.</h6>
+
+<div class = "page bar">
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/a_dedic.png" width = "291" height = "607"
+alt = "To Carlos Blacker" title = "To Carlos Blacker"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "fullpage bar">
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg8.png" width = "121" height = "144"
+alt = "cherub"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<!-- pg 9-->
+
+<table class = "toc bottomleft"
+style = "background-image: url(images/a_contents.png);
+height: 449px;">
+<tr>
+<td style = "width: 70px; height: 6em;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td rowspan = "7">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>
+<h4><a name = "contents" id = "contents">
+CONTENTS</a></h4>
+</td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td class = "right smallest"><i>Page</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p class = "smallcaps">The Happy Prince</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#prince">15</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class = "locked"><p class = "smallcaps">The Nightingale and the
+Rose</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#nightingale">41</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p class = "smallcaps">The Selfish Giant</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#giant">59</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p class = "smallcaps">The Devoted Friend</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#friend">73</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p class = "smallcaps">The Remarkable Rocket</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#rocket">105</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 4em;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 120px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<!-- "images/a_contents.png" width = "315" height = "449" -->
+
+<div class = "fullpage">
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg10.png" width = "109" height = "158"
+alt = "cherub"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<!-- pg 11-->
+
+<table class = "toc title"
+style = "background-image: url(images/a_illus2.png);">
+<tr>
+<td class = "null" style = "border-left: hidden;">
+<p class = "invert">
+<img src = "images/a_illus1.png" width = "15" height = "121"
+alt = "rose"></p>
+</td>
+<td colspan = "4">&nbsp;</td>
+<td style = "width: 20px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td rowspan = "15">&nbsp;</td>
+<td colspan = "4">
+<h4><a name = "illus" id = "illus">
+LIST OF COLOUR PLATES</a></h4>
+</td>
+<td rowspan = "15">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">The King of the Mountains of the Moon</p></td>
+<td class = "right">
+<a href = "#frontis"><i>Frontis.</i></a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td></td>
+<td></td>
+<td class = "null right smallest">
+<i>Facing Page</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">The Palace of Sans-Souci</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate20">20</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">The Loveliest of the Queen’s Maids of
+Honour</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate26">26</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">The Rich Making Merry in Their Beautiful Houses
+while the Beggars were Sitting at the Gates</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate32">32</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">She will Pass me by</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate42">42</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">His Lips are Sweet as Honey</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate48">48</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">In every Tree he could see there was a Little
+Child</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate64">64</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">The Little Boy he had Loved</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate68">68</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "3">
+<p class = "smallcaps">The Green Linnet</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate76">76</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan = "2">
+<p class = "smallcaps">Hans in his Garden</p></td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate92">92</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class = "bottom"><p class = "smallcaps">The Russian
+Princess</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate106">106</a></td>
+<td rowspan = "3" colspan = "2" style = "width: 129px; height:
+164px;"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class = "bottom"><p class = "smallcaps">“Let the Fireworks Begin,”
+said the King</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#plate122">122</a></td>
+<!-- <td></td> -->
+<!-- <td></td> -->
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td></td>
+<!-- <td></td> -->
+<!-- <td></td> -->
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<!-- "images/a_illus1.png" width = "15" height = "121" -->
+<!-- "images/a_illus2.png" width = "149" height = "164" -->
+
+</div>
+
+<!-- end div beginning -->
+
+<div class = "maintext">
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">13</span>
+
+<table class = "background title"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg13.png);
+width: 476px; height: 647px;">
+<tr>
+<td class = "filler">
+<a name = "prince" id = "prince">&nbsp;</a></td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td>
+<h3 class = "left">THE<br>
+HAPPY<br>
+PRINCE</h3>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "fullpage">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">14</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg14.png" width = "216" height = "281"
+alt = "old king in profile"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">15</span>
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg15.png" width = "331" height = "119"
+alt = "NNN"></p>
+
+<h4>THE HAPPY PRINCE</h4>
+
+<p><span class = "dropcap">
+<img src = "images/capH.png" width = "136" height = "142"
+alt = "H"></span><span class = "firstword">igh</span> above the city, on
+a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all
+over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright
+sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.</p>
+
+<p>He was very much admired indeed. “He is as beautiful as a
+weathercock,” remarked
+<span class = "pagenum">16</span>
+one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having
+artistic tastes; “only not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest
+people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.</p>
+
+<p>“Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother of
+her little boy who was crying for the moon. “The Happy Prince never
+dreams of crying for anything.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,”
+muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg16.png" width = "55" height = "232"
+alt = "decoration"></p>
+
+<p>“He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children as they came
+out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean
+white pinafores.</p>
+
+<p>“How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you have never seen
+one.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the
+Mathematical
+<span class = "pagenum">17</span>
+Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of
+children dreaming.</p>
+
+<p>One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had
+gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he
+was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the
+spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had
+been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to
+her.</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg17.png" width = "61" height = "312"
+alt = "decoration"></p>
+
+<p>“Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point
+at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round
+her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This
+was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.</p>
+
+<p>“It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows; “she
+has no money, and
+<span class = "pagenum">18</span>
+far too many relations;” and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds.
+Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.</p>
+
+<p>After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his
+lady-love. “She has no conversation,” he said, “and I am afraid that she
+is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.” And certainly,
+whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys.
+“I&nbsp;admit that she is domestic,” he continued, “but I love
+travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also.”</p>
+
+<p>“Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; but the Reed
+shook her head, she was so attached to her home.</p>
+
+<p>“You have been trifling with me,” he cried. “I am off to the
+Pyramids. Good-bye!” and he flew away.</p>
+
+<p>All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city.
+“Where shall I put up?”
+<span class = "pagenum">19</span>
+he said; “I&nbsp;hope the town has made preparations.”</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg18.png" width = "482" height = "59"
+alt = "decoration"></p>
+
+<p>Then he saw the statue on the tall column.</p>
+
+<p>“I will put up there,” he cried; “it is a fine position, with plenty
+of fresh air.” So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy
+Prince.</p>
+
+<p>“I have a golden bedroom,” he said softly to himself as he looked
+round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his
+head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. “What a curious
+thing!” he cried; “there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are
+quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north
+of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that
+was merely her selfishness.”</p>
+
+<p>Then another drop fell.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?” he
+said; “I&nbsp;must look for
+<span class = "pagenum">20</span>
+a good chimney-pot,” and he determined to fly away.</p>
+
+<p>But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked
+up, and saw&mdash; Ah! what did he see?</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were
+running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the
+moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.</p>
+
+<p>“Who are you?” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“I am the Happy Prince.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; “you have quite
+drenched&nbsp;me.”</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate20" id = "plate20">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">20a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate20.jpg" width = "399" height = "536"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+THE PALACE OF SANS-SOUCI</p>
+
+<p>“When I was alive and had a human heart,” answered the statue,
+“I&nbsp;did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of
+Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I
+played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the
+<span class = "pagenum">21</span>
+dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I
+never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so
+beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I
+was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I
+am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness
+and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I
+cannot choose but weep.”</p>
+
+<!-- b_pg21.png width = "308" height = "291" -->
+
+<table class = "background bottomright"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg21.png);">
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+“What! is he not solid gold?” said the Swallow to himself. He was too
+polite to make any personal remarks out loud.</p>
+
+<p>“Far away,” continued the statue in a low musical voice, “far away in
+a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and
+through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and
+worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle,
+<span class = "pagenum">22</span>
+for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin
+gown for the loveliest of the Queen’s maids-of-honour to wear at the
+next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is
+lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has
+nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow,
+little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My
+feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.”</p>
+</td>
+<td style = "width: 100px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td style = "height: 40px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg22.png" width = "93" height = "322"
+alt = "Egypt"></p>
+
+<p>“I am waited for in Egypt,” said the Swallow. “My friends are flying
+up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they
+will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there
+himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and
+embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and
+his hands are like withered leaves.”</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">23</span>
+<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not
+stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty,
+and the mother so sad.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t think I like boys,” answered the Swallow. “Last summer, when
+I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller’s sons,
+who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we
+swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I&nbsp;come of a family
+famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect.”</p>
+
+<p>But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry.
+“It is very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for one
+night, and be your messenger.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, little Swallow,” said the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince’s sword, and
+flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">24</span>
+<p>He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were
+sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing.
+A&nbsp;beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. “How
+wonderful the stars are,” he said to her, “and how wonderful is the
+power of love!”</p>
+
+<div class = "background topright" style = "background-image:
+url(images/b_pg24.png);">
+<!-- width 170 height 161 -->
+<div class = "rightbag" style = "width: 100px; height: 70px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<div class = "rightbag" style = "width: 170px; height: 91px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<p>“I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball,” she
+answered; “I&nbsp;have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it;
+but the seamstresses are so lazy.”</p>
+
+<p>He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts
+of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining
+with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. At last he
+came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on
+his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he
+hopped, and laid the great ruby on the
+<span class = "pagenum">25</span>
+table beside the woman’s thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed,
+fanning the boy’s forehead with his wings. “How cool I feel!” said the
+boy, “I&nbsp;must be getting better;” and he sank into a delicious
+slumber.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class = "background topleft" style = "background-image:
+url(images/b_pg25.png);">
+<!-- width = 172 height 127 -->
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 94px; height: 40px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 172px; height:
+87px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<p>Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he
+had done. “It is curious,” he remarked, “but I feel quite warm now,
+although it is so cold.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is because you have done a good action,” said the Prince. And
+the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking
+always made him sleepy.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg26.png" width = "119" height = "322"
+alt = "student"></p>
+
+<p>When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. “What a
+remarkable phenomenon<ins class = "correction" title = "comma invisible">,”</ins>
+said the Professor of Ornithology as he was passing
+over the bridge. “A&nbsp;swallow in winter!” And he wrote a long letter
+about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it, it was
+<span class = "pagenum">26</span>
+full of so many words that they could not understand.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>“To-night I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, and he was in high
+spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and sat a
+long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went the Sparrows
+chirruped, and said to each other, “What a distinguished stranger!” so
+he enjoyed himself very much.</p>
+
+<p>When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. “Have you any
+commissions for Egypt?” he cried; “I&nbsp;am just starting.”</p>
+
+<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not
+stay with me one night longer?”</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate26" id = "plate26">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">26a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate26.jpg" width = "399" height = "539"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+THE LOVELIEST OF THE QUEEN’S MAIDS OF HONOUR</p>
+
+<p>“I am waited for in Egypt,” answered the Swallow. “To-morrow my
+friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches
+there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God
+Memnon.
+<span class = "pagenum">27</span>
+All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he
+utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the yellow lions
+come down to the water’s edge to drink. They have eyes like green
+beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.”</p>
+
+<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “far away across
+the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a desk
+covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of
+withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a
+pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a
+play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any
+more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will wait with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, who really
+had a good heart. “Shall I take him another ruby?”</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">28</span>
+<p>“Alas! I have no ruby now,” said the Prince; “my eyes are all that I
+have left. They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of
+India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He
+will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his
+play.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dear Prince,” said the Swallow, “I cannot do that”; and he began to
+weep.</p>
+
+<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye, and flew away to the
+student’s garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in
+the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man
+had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the
+bird’s wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire
+lying on the withered violets.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">29</span>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg29.png" width = "45" height = "310"
+alt = "crow's nest"></p>
+
+<p>“I am beginning to be appreciated,” he cried; “this is from some
+great admirer. Now I can finish my play,” and he looked quite happy.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the mast
+of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the
+hold with ropes. “Heave a-hoy!” they shouted as each chest came up.
+“I&nbsp;am going to Egypt!” cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and
+when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.</p>
+
+<p>“I am come to bid you good-bye,” he cried.</p>
+
+<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not
+stay with me one night longer?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is winter,” answered the Swallow, “and the chill snow will soon
+be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the
+crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily
+<span class = "pagenum">30</span>
+about them. My companions are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec,
+and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each
+other. Dear Prince, I&nbsp;must leave you, but I will never forget you,
+and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of
+those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and
+the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.”</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg30.png" width = "46" height = "309"
+alt = "match-girl"></p>
+
+<p>“In the square below,” said the Happy Prince, “there stands a little
+match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all
+spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money,
+and she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is
+bare. Pluck out my other eye and give it to her, and her father will not
+beat her.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will stay with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, “but I
+cannot pluck out
+<span class = "pagenum">31</span>
+your eye. You would be quite blind then.”</p>
+
+<p>“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, and darted down with it. He
+swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her
+hand. “What a lovely bit of glass!” cried the little girl; and she ran
+home, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. “You are blind now,” he
+said, “so I will stay with you always.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, “you must go away to
+Egypt.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will stay with you always,” said the Swallow, and he slept at the
+Prince’s feet.</p>
+
+<p>All the next day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder, and told him
+stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him of the red
+ibises, who stand in long rows on the
+<span class = "pagenum">32</span>
+banks of the Nile, and catch gold-fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx,
+who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows
+everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their
+camels and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of the
+Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large
+crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm tree, and has
+twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail
+over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the
+butterflies.</p>
+
+<p>“Dear little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you tell me of marvellous
+things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of
+women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city, little
+Swallow, and tell me what you see there.”</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate32" id = "plate32">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">32a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate32.jpg" width = "399" height = "541"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+THE RICH MAKING MERRY IN THEIR BEAUTIFUL HOUSES,<br>
+WHILE THE BEGGARS WERE SITTING AT THE GATES</p>
+
+<p>So the Swallow flew over the great city, and
+<span class = "pagenum">33</span>
+saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars
+were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white
+faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets.
+Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one
+another’s arms to try and keep themselves warm. “How hungry we are!”
+they said. “You must not lie here,” shouted the Watchman, and they
+wandered out into the rain.</p>
+
+<p>Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.</p>
+
+<p>“I am covered with fine gold,” said the Prince, “you must take it
+off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that
+gold can make them happy.”</p>
+
+<p>Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the
+Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine
+gold he brought to the poor, and the children’s
+<span class = "pagenum">34</span>
+faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. “We
+have bread now!” they cried.</p>
+
+<p>Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets
+looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and
+glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves
+of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore
+scarlet caps and skated on the ice.</p>
+
+<p>The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not
+leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the
+baker’s door when the baker was not looking, and tried to keep himself
+warm by flapping his wings.</p>
+
+<p>But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength to
+fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more. “Good-bye,
+<span class = "pagenum">35</span>
+dear Prince!” he murmured, “will you let me kiss your hand?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,” said
+the Prince, “you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the
+lips, for I love you.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is not to Egypt that I am going,” said the Swallow. “I&nbsp;am
+going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he
+not?”</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg35.png" width = "95" height = "149"
+alt = "prince and sparrow"></p>
+
+<p>And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his
+feet.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if
+something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped
+right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.</p>
+
+<p>Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in
+company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he looked
+up at the statue: “Dear
+<span class = "pagenum">36</span>
+me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!” he said.</p>
+
+<!-- b_pg36.png width = "434" height = "434" -->
+
+<table class = "background bottomleft"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg36.png); height: 434px;">
+<tr>
+<td style = "width: 28px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+“How shabby, indeed!” cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with
+the Mayor; and they went up to look at&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>“The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is
+golden no longer,” said the Mayor; “in fact, he is little better than a
+beggar!”</p>
+
+<p>“Little better than a beggar,” said the Town Councillors.</p>
+
+<p>“And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!” continued the Mayor.
+“We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to
+die here.” And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. “As he is no
+longer beautiful he is no longer useful,” said the Art Professor at the
+University.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">37</span>
+<p>Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a
+meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal.
+“We must have another statue, of course,” he said, “and it shall be a
+statue of myself.”</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 118px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>“Of myself,” said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled.
+When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.</p>
+
+<p>“What a strange thing!” said the overseer of the workmen at the
+foundry. “This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must
+throw it away.” So they threw it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow
+was also lying.</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg37.png" width = "490" height = "120"
+alt = "the Corporation"></p>
+
+<p>“Bring me the two most precious things in the city,” said God to one
+of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead
+bird.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">38</span>
+<p>“You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for in my garden of Paradise
+this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the
+Happy Prince shall praise&nbsp;me.”</p>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg38.png" width = "192" height = "274"
+alt = "angel"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">39</span>
+
+<!-- b_pic39.png width = 477 height = 646 -->
+
+<table class = "background title"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg39.png);
+width: 476px; height: 646px;">
+<tr>
+<td class = "filler">
+<a name = "nightingale" id = "nightingale">&nbsp;</a></td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td>
+<h3 class = "left">THE<br>
+NIGHTINGALE<br>
+AND<br>
+THE<br>
+ROSE</h3>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 404px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<div class = "fullpage">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">40</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg40.png" width = "82" height = "228"
+alt = "rose"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">41</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg41.png" width = "225" height = "86"
+alt = "woman"></p>
+
+<h4>THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE</h4>
+
+<p><span class = "dropcap">
+<img src = "images/capS.png" width = "137" height = "143"
+alt = "“S"></span><span class = "firstword">he</span> said that she
+would dance with me if I brought her red roses,” cried the young
+Student; “but in all my garden there is no red rose.”</p>
+
+<p>From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and she
+looked out through the leaves, and wondered.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">42</span>
+<p>“No red rose in all my garden!” he cried, and his beautiful eyes
+filled with tears. “Ah, on what little things does happiness depend!
+I&nbsp;have read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets
+of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my life made
+wretched.”</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg42.png" width = "56" height = "230"
+alt = "lover"></p>
+
+<p>“Here at last is a true lover,” said the Nightingale. “Night after
+night have I sung of him, though I knew him not: night after night have
+I told his story to the stars, and now I see him. His hair is dark as
+the hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are red as the rose of his desire;
+but passion has made his face like pale ivory, and sorrow has set her
+seal upon his brow.”</p>
+
+<p>“The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night,” murmured the young
+Student, “and my love will be of the company. If I bring her a red rose
+she will dance with me till dawn. If I bring her a red rose,
+I&nbsp;shall hold her in my arms, and she will lean her head upon my
+shoulder,
+<span class = "pagenum">43</span>
+and her hand will be clasped in mine. But there is no red rose in my
+garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by. She will have no
+heed of me, and my heart will break.”</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate42" id = "plate42">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">42a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate42.jpg" width = "402" height = "518"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+SHE WILL PASS ME BY</p>
+
+<p>“Here indeed is the true lover,” said the Nightingale. “What I sing
+of, he suffers: what is joy to me, to him is pain. Surely Love is a
+wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds, and dearer than fine
+opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the
+market-place. It may not be purchased of the merchants, nor can it be
+weighed out in the balance for gold.”</p>
+
+<p>“The musicians will sit in their gallery,” said the young Student,
+“and play upon their stringed instruments, and my love will dance to the
+sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that her
+feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers in their gay dresses
+will throng round her. But with me she will not
+<span class = "pagenum">44</span>
+dance, for I have no red rose to give her;” and he flung himself down on
+the grass, and buried his face in his hands, and wept.</p>
+
+<table class = "background bottomleft"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg44.png);">
+<!-- width 423 height 218 -->
+<tr>
+<td style = "width: 106px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+“Why is he weeping?” asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past him
+with his tail in the air.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, indeed?” said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about after a
+sunbeam.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, indeed?” whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in a soft, low
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>“He is weeping for a red rose,” said the Nightingale.</p>
+
+<p>“For a red rose?” they cried; “how very ridiculous!” and the little
+Lizard, who was something of a cynic, laughed outright.</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 96px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student’s sorrow,
+and she sat silent in the oak-tree, and thought about the mystery of
+Love.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the
+air. She
+<span class = "pagenum">45</span>
+passed through the grove like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed
+across the garden.</p>
+
+<table class = "background bottomright"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg45.png); height: 395px;">
+<!-- width 470 height 395 -->
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+In the centre of the grass-plot was standing a beautiful Rose-tree, and
+when she saw it she flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.</p>
+
+<p>“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing you my sweetest
+song.”</p>
+
+<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p>
+
+<p>“My roses are white,” it answered; “as white as the foam of the sea,
+and whiter than the snow upon the mountain. But go to my brother who
+grows round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he will give you what you
+want.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round
+the old sun-dial.</p>
+
+<p>“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing you my sweetest
+song.”</p>
+</td>
+<td style = "width: 110px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p>
+</td>
+<td style = "height: 140px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<table class = "background bottomleft"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg46.png); height: 509px;">
+<!-- width 371 height 509 -->
+<tr>
+<td style = "width: 96px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+“My roses are yellow,” it answered; “as
+<span class = "pagenum">46</span>
+yellow as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an amber throne, and
+yellower than the daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the mower
+comes with his scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the
+Student’s window, and perhaps he will give you what you want.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing
+beneath the Student’s window.</p>
+
+<p>“Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I will sing you my sweetest
+song.”</p>
+
+<p>But the Tree shook its head.</p>
+
+<p>“My roses are red,” it answered, “as red as the feet of the dove, and
+redder than the great fans of coral that wave and wave in the
+ocean-cavern. But the winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has
+nipped my buds, and the storm has broken my branches, and I shall have
+no roses at all this year.”</p>
+
+<p>“One red rose is all I want,” cried the
+<span class = "pagenum">47</span>
+Nightingale, “only one red rose! Is there no way by which I can
+get&nbsp;it?”</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 60px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<table class = "background bottomright"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg47.png);">
+<!-- width 486 height 219 -->
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+“There is a way,” answered the Tree; “but it is so terrible that I dare
+not tell it to you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell it to me,” said the Nightingale, “I am not afraid.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you want a red rose,” said the Tree, “you must build it out of
+music by moonlight, and stain it with your own heart’s-blood. You must
+sing to me with your breast against a thorn. All night long you must
+sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your life-blood
+must flow into my veins, and become mine.”</p>
+
+<p>“Death is a great price to pay for a red rose,” cried the
+Nightingale, “and Life is very dear to all. It is pleasant to sit in the
+green wood, and to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in
+her chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet
+<span class = "pagenum">48</span>
+are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and the heather that blows on
+the hill. Yet Love is better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird
+compared to the heart of a man?”</p>
+</td>
+<td style = "width: 76px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td style = "height: 60px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg48.png" width = "53" height = "250"
+alt = "decoration">
+</p>
+
+<p>So she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air.
+She swept over the garden like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed
+through the grove.</p>
+
+<p>The young Student was still lying on the grass, where she had left
+him, and the tears were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Be happy,” cried the Nightingale, “be happy; you shall have your red
+rose. I&nbsp;will build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with
+my own heart’s-blood. All that I ask of you in return is that you will
+be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Philosophy, though he is wise,
+and mightier than Power, though he is mighty. Flame-coloured are his
+wings, and coloured like flame is his body. His lips are
+<span class = "pagenum">49</span>
+sweet as honey, and his breath is like frankincense.”</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate48" id = "plate48">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">48a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate48.jpg" width = "399" height = "519"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+HIS LIPS ARE SWEET AS HONEY</p>
+
+<p>The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, but he could not
+understand what the Nightingale was saying to him, for he only knew the
+things that are written down in books.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg49.png" width = "55" height = "252"
+alt = "tree"></p>
+
+<p>But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of
+the little Nightingale who had built her nest in his branches.</p>
+
+<p>“Sing me one last song,” he whispered; “I shall feel very lonely when
+you are gone.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice was like water
+bubbling from a silver jar.</p>
+
+<p>When she had finished her song, the Student got up, and pulled a
+note-book and a lead-pencil out of his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>“She has form,” he said to himself, as he walked away through the
+grove&mdash;“that cannot be denied to her; but has she got feeling?
+I&nbsp;<span class = "pagenum">50</span>
+am afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists; she is all style
+without any sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for others. She
+thinks merely of music, and everybody knows that the arts are selfish.
+Still, it must be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her
+voice. What a pity it is that they do not mean anything, or do any
+practical good!” And he went into his room, and lay down on his little
+pallet-bed, and began to think of his love; and, after a time, he fell
+asleep.</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg50.png" width = "57" height = "250"
+alt = "tree"></p>
+
+<p>And when the Moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the
+Rose-tree, and set her breast against the thorn. All night long she sang
+with her breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon leaned down
+and listened. All night long she sang and the thorn went deeper and
+deeper into her breast, and her life-blood ebbed away from her.</p>
+
+<p>She sang first of the birth of love in the
+<span class = "pagenum">51</span>
+heart of a boy and a girl. And on the top-most spray of the Rose-tree
+there blossomed a marvellous rose, petal following petal, as song
+followed song. Pale was it, at first, as the mist that hangs over the
+river&mdash;pale as the feet of the morning, and silver as the wings of
+the dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, as the shadow
+of a rose in a water-pool, so was the rose that blossomed on the topmost
+spray of the Tree.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg51.png" width = "58" height = "121"
+alt = "rose"></p>
+
+<p>But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the
+thorn. “Press closer, little Nightingale,” cried the Tree, “or the Day
+will come before the rose is finished.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and
+louder grew her song, for she sang of the birth of passion in the soul
+of a man and a maid.</p>
+
+<p>And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like
+the flush in the face of
+<span class = "pagenum">52</span>
+the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the bride. But the thorn had
+not yet reached her heart, so the rose’s heart remained white, for only
+a Nightingale’s heart’s-blood can crimson the heart of a rose.</p>
+
+<p>And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the
+thorn. “Press closer, little Nightingale,” cried the Tree, “or the Day
+will come before the rose is finished.”</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg52.png" width = "125" height = "161"
+alt = "sunrise"></p>
+
+<p>So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the thorn
+touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through her. Bitter,
+bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for she sang
+of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not in the
+tomb.</p>
+
+<p>And the marvellous rose became crimson, like the rose of the eastern
+sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was the
+heart.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">53</span>
+<p>But the Nightingale’s voice grew fainter, and her little wings began
+to beat, and a film came over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her
+song, and she felt something choking her in her throat.</p>
+
+<p>Then she gave one last burst of music. The white Moon heard it, and
+she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in the sky. The red rose heard it,
+and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the cold
+morning air. Echo bore it to her purple cavern in the hills, and woke
+the sleeping shepherds from their dreams. It floated through the reeds
+of the river, and they carried its message to the sea.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg53.png" width = "94" height = "198"
+alt = "clouds"></p>
+
+<p>“Look, look!” cried the Tree, “the rose is finished now;” but the
+Nightingale made no answer, for she was lying dead in the long grass,
+with the thorn in her heart.</p>
+
+<p>And at noon the Student opened his window and looked out.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">54</span>
+<p>“Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!” he cried; “here is a red rose!
+I&nbsp;have never seen any rose like it in all my life. It is so
+beautiful that I am sure it has a long Latin name;” and he leaned down
+and plucked&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professor’s house with the
+rose in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>The daughter of the Professor was sitting in the doorway winding blue
+silk on a reel, and her little dog was lying at her feet.</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg54.png" width = "165" height = "177"
+alt = "the Student"></p>
+
+<p>“You said that you would dance with me if I brought you a red rose,”
+cried the Student. “Here is the reddest rose in all the world. You will
+wear it to-night next your heart, and as we dance together it will tell
+you how I love you.”</p>
+
+<p>But the girl frowned. “I am afraid it will not go with my dress,” she
+answered; “and, besides, the Chamberlain’s nephew
+<span class = "pagenum">55</span>
+has sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far
+more than flowers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful,” said the Student
+angrily; and he threw the rose into the street, where it fell into the
+gutter, and a cart-wheel went over&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>“Ungrateful!” said the girl. “I tell you what, you are very rude;
+and, after all, who are you? Only a Student. Why, I&nbsp;don’t believe
+you have even got silver buckles to your shoes as the Chamberlain’s
+nephew has;” and she got up from her chair and went into the house.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg55.png" width = "75" height = "62"
+alt = "shoe"></p>
+
+<p>“What a silly thing Love is!” said the Student as he walked away. “It
+is not half as useful as Logic, for it does not prove anything, and it
+is always telling one of things that are not going to happen, and making
+one believe things that are not true. In fact, it is quite unpractical,
+and, as in this age to be practical is everything,
+<span class = "pagenum">56</span>
+I shall go back to Philosophy and study Metaphysics.”</p>
+
+<p>So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and
+began to read.</p>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg56.png" width = "95" height = "297"
+alt = "book"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">57</span>
+
+<!-- b_pic57.png width = 503 height = 641 -->
+
+<table class = "background title"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg57.png);
+width: 503px; height: 641px;">
+<tr>
+<td class = "filler">
+<a name = "giant" id = "giant">&nbsp;</a></td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td>
+<h3 class = "left">THE<br>
+SELFISH<br>
+GIANT</h3>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 316px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "fullpage">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">58</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg58.png" width = "83" height = "64"
+alt = "cherub"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">59</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration right">
+<img src = "images/b_pg59.png" width = "240" height = "212"
+alt = "merchant"></p>
+
+<h4>THE SELFISH GIANT</h4>
+
+<p><span class = "dropcap">
+<img src = "images/capE.png" width = "140" height = "141"
+alt = "E"></span><span class = "firstword">very</span> afternoon, as
+they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the
+Giant’s garden.</p>
+
+<p>It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there
+over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve
+peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of
+pink and pearl,
+<span class = "pagenum">60</span>
+and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang
+so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen
+to them. “How happy we are here!” they cried to each other.</p>
+
+<p>One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the
+Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven
+years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation
+was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he
+arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you doing here?” he cried in a very gruff voice, and the
+children ran away.</p>
+
+<p>“My own garden is my own garden,” said the Giant; “any one can
+understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.” So
+he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">61</span>
+<p class = "sign">
+TRESPASSERS<br>
+<span class = "smaller">WILL BE</span><br>
+PROSECUTED</p>
+
+<p>He was a very selfish Giant.</p>
+
+<p>The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the
+road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did
+not like it. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons
+were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside. “How happy we
+were there!” they said to each other.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg62.png" width = "71" height = "253"
+alt = "wind"></p>
+
+<p>Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little
+blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it
+was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no
+children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put
+its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so
+sorry for the children
+<span class = "pagenum">62</span>
+that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. The
+only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. “Spring has
+forgotten this garden,” they cried, “so we will live here all the year
+round.” The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and
+the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind
+to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared
+all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. “This is a
+delightful spot,” he said, “we must ask the Hail on a visit.” So the
+Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the
+castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round
+the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his
+breath was like ice.</p>
+
+<p>“I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,” said the
+Selfish Giant, as he
+<span class = "pagenum">63</span>
+sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; “I&nbsp;hope
+there will be a change in the weather.”</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg63.png" width = "60" height = "221"
+alt = "castle"></p>
+
+<p>But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden
+fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave none. “He is
+too selfish,” she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North
+Wind and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the
+trees.</p>
+
+<p>One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some
+lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be
+the King’s musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet
+singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird
+sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music
+in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North
+Wind ceased roaring,
+<span class = "pagenum">64</span>
+and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement.
+“I&nbsp;believe the Spring has come at last,” said the Giant; and he
+jumped out of bed and looked out.</p>
+
+<p>What did he see?</p>
+
+<p>He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the
+children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the
+trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the
+trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered
+themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the
+children’s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with
+delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and
+laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter.
+It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a
+little boy.</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate64" id = "plate64">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">64a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate64.jpg" width = "400" height = "510"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+IN EVERY TREE HE COULD SEE THERE WAS A LITTLE CHILD</p>
+
+<p>He was so small that he could not reach up to
+<span class = "pagenum">65</span>
+the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying
+bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and
+the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. “Climb up! little boy,”
+said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the
+boy was too tiny.</p>
+
+<p>And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out. “How selfish I have
+been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring would not come here.
+I&nbsp;will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I
+will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s
+playground for ever and ever.” He was really very sorry for what he had
+done.</p>
+
+<p>So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and
+went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they were so
+frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again.
+Only the little boy
+<span class = "pagenum">66</span>
+did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the
+Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in
+his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into
+blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched
+out his two arms and flung them round the Giant’s neck, and kissed him.
+And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any
+longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring. “It is your
+garden now, little children,” said the Giant, and he took a great axe
+and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market at
+twelve o’clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the
+most beautiful garden they had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg66.png" width = "107" height = "159"
+alt = "the Giant"></p>
+
+<p>All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant
+to bid him good-bye.</p>
+
+<p>“But where is your little companion?” he
+<span class = "pagenum">67</span>
+said: “the boy I put into the tree.” The Giant loved him the best
+because he had kissed him.</p>
+
+<p>“We don’t know,” answered the children; “he has gone away.”</p>
+
+<p>“You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,” said the
+Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and
+had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg67.png" width = "40" height = "221"
+alt = "poppy"></p>
+
+<p>Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played
+with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen
+again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for
+his first little friend, and often spoke of him. “How I would like to
+see him!” he used to say.</p>
+
+<p>Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not
+play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched
+<span class = "pagenum">68</span>
+the children at their games, and admired his garden. “I&nbsp;have many
+beautiful flowers,” he said; “but the children are the most beautiful
+flowers of all.”</p>
+
+<p>One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He
+did not hate the winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring
+asleep, and that the flowers were resting.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder and looked and looked. It
+certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden
+was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were
+all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it
+stood the little boy he had loved.</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate68" id = "plate68">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">68a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate68.jpg" width = "399" height = "525"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+THE LITTLE BOY HE HAD LOVED</p>
+
+<p>Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He
+hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came
+quite close his face grew red with
+<span class = "pagenum">69</span>
+anger, and he said, “Who hath dared to wound thee?” For on the palms of
+the child’s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two
+nails were on the little feet.</p>
+
+<p>“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me, that I
+might take my big sword and slay him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay!” answered the child; “but these are the wounds of Love.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he
+knelt before the little child.</p>
+
+<p>And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, “You let me play
+once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which
+is Paradise.”</p>
+
+<p>And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant
+lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.</p>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">70</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg70.png" width = "122" height = "25"
+alt = "flowering twig"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">71</span>
+
+<!-- b_pic71.png width = 478 height = 606 -->
+
+<table class = "background title"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg71.png);
+width: 478px; height: 606px;">
+<tr>
+<td class = "filler">
+<a name = "friend" id = "friend">&nbsp;</a></td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td>
+<h3 class = "left">THE<br>
+DEVOTED<br>
+FRIEND</h3>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<div class = "fullpage">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">72</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg72.png" width = "87" height = "113"
+alt = "man in hat"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">73</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration right">
+<img src = "images/b_pg73.png" width = "190" height = "162"
+alt = "contented man"></p>
+
+<h4>THE DEVOTED FRIEND</h4>
+
+<p><span class = "dropcap">
+<img src = "images/capO.png" width = "140" height = "139"
+alt = "O"></span><span class = "firstword">ne</span> morning the old
+Water-rat put his head out of his hole. He had bright beady eyes and
+stiff grey whiskers and his tail was like a long bit of black
+india-rubber. The little ducks were swimming about in the pond, looking
+just like a lot of yellow canaries, and their mother, who was pure white
+with real red legs, was trying to teach them how to stand on their heads
+in the water.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">74</span>
+<p>“You will never be in the best society unless you can stand on your
+heads,” she kept saying to them; and every now and then she showed them
+how it was done. But the little ducks paid no attention to her. They
+were so young that they did not know what an advantage it is to be in
+society at all.</p>
+
+<p>“What disobedient children!” cried the old Water-rat; “they really
+deserve to be drowned.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing of the kind,” answered the Duck, “every one must make a
+beginning, and parents cannot be too patient.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! I know nothing about the feelings of parents,” said the
+Water-rat; “I&nbsp;am not a family man. In fact, I&nbsp;have never been
+married, and I never intend to be. Love is all very well in its way, but
+friendship is much higher. Indeed, I&nbsp;know of nothing in the world
+that is either nobler or rarer than a devoted friendship.”</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">75</span>
+<p>“And what, pray, is your idea of the duties of a devoted friend?”
+asked a green Linnet, who was sitting in a willow-tree hard by, and had
+overheard the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, that is just what I want to know,” said the Duck; and she swam
+away to the end of the pond, and stood upon her head, in order to give
+her children a good example.</p>
+
+<p>“What a silly question!” cried the Water-rat. “I should expect my
+devoted friend to be devoted to me, of course.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what would you do in return?” said the little bird, swinging
+upon a silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t understand you,” answered the Water-rat.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me tell you a story on the subject,” said the Linnet.</p>
+
+<p>“Is the story about me?” asked the Water-rat.
+<span class = "pagenum">76</span>
+“If so, I&nbsp;will listen to it, for I am extremely fond of
+fiction.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is applicable to you,” answered the Linnet; and he flew down, and
+alighting upon the bank, he told the story of The Devoted Friend.</p>
+
+<p>“Once upon a time,” said the Linnet, “there was an honest little
+fellow named Hans.”</p>
+
+<p>“Was he very distinguished?” asked the Water-rat.</p>
+
+<div class = "background topleft" style = "background-image:
+url(images/b_pg76.png);">
+<!-- width 199 height 146 -->
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 124px; height:
+88px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 199px; height:
+58px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<p>“No,” answered the Linnet, “I don’t think he was distinguished at
+all, except for his kind heart, and his funny round good-humoured face.
+He lived in a tiny cottage all by himself, and every day he worked in
+his garden. In all the country-side there was no garden so lovely as
+his. Sweet-william grew there, and Gilly-flowers, and Shepherds’-purses,
+and Fair-maids of France. There were damask Roses, and yellow Roses,
+lilac Crocuses and
+<span class = "pagenum">77</span>
+gold, purple Violets and white. Columbine and Ladysmock, Marjoram and
+Wild Basil, the Cowslip and the Flower-de-luce, the Daffodil and the
+Clove-Pink bloomed or blossomed in their proper order as the months went
+by, one flower taking another flower’s place, so that there were always
+beautiful things to look at, and pleasant odours to smell.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate76" id = "plate76">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">76a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate76.jpg" width = "398" height = "558"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+THE GREEN LINNET</p>
+
+<p>“Little Hans had a great many friends, but the most devoted friend of
+all was big Hugh the Miller. Indeed, so devoted was the rich Miller to
+little Hans, that he would never go by his garden without leaning over
+the wall and plucking a large nosegay, or a handful of sweet herbs, or
+filling his pockets with plums and cherries if it was the fruit
+season.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Real friends should have everything in common,’ the Miller used to
+say, and little Hans nodded and smiled, and felt very proud of having a
+friend with such noble ideas.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">78</span>
+<p>“Sometimes, indeed, the neighbours thought it strange that the rich
+Miller never gave little Hans anything in return, though he had a
+hundred sacks of flour stored away in his mill, and six milch cows, and
+a large flock of woolly sheep; but Hans never troubled his head about
+these things, and nothing gave him greater pleasure than to listen to
+all the wonderful things the Miller used to say about the unselfishness
+of true friendship.</p>
+
+<table class = "background bottomleft"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg78.png); height: 241px;">
+<!-- width 455 height 241 -->
+<tr>
+<td style = "width: 110px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+“So little Hans worked away in his garden. During the spring, the
+summer, and the autumn he was very happy, but when the winter came, and
+he had no fruit or flowers to bring to the market, he suffered a good
+deal from cold and hunger, and often had to go to bed without any supper
+but a few dried pears or some hard nuts. In the winter, also, he was
+extremely lonely, as the Miller never came to see him then.</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 82px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">79</span>
+<p>“‘There is no good in my going to see little Hans as long as the snow
+lasts,’ the Miller used to say to his wife, ‘for when people are in
+trouble they should be left alone and not be bothered by visitors. That
+at least is my idea about friendship, and I am sure I am right. So I
+shall wait till the spring comes, and then I shall pay him a visit, and
+he will be able to give me a large basket of primroses, and that will
+make him so happy.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘You are certainly very thoughtful about others,’ answered the Wife,
+as she sat in her comfortable armchair by the big pinewood fire; ‘very
+thoughtful indeed. It is quite a treat to hear you talk about
+friendship. I&nbsp;am sure the clergyman himself could not say such
+beautiful things as you do, though he does live in a three-storied
+house, and wear a gold ring on his little finger.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘But could we not ask little Hans up
+<span class = "pagenum">80</span>
+here?’ said the Miller’s youngest son. ‘If poor Hans is in trouble I
+will give him half my porridge, and show him my white rabbits.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘What a silly boy you are!’ cried the Miller; ‘I really don’t know
+what is the use of sending you to school. You seem not to learn
+anything. Why, if little Hans came up here, and saw our warm fire, and
+our good supper, and our great cask of red wine, he might get envious,
+and envy is a most terrible thing, and would spoil anybody’s nature.
+I&nbsp;certainly will not allow Hans’ nature to be spoiled. I&nbsp;am
+his best friend, and I will always watch over him, and see that he is
+not led into any temptations. Besides, if Hans came here, he might ask
+me to let him have some flour on credit, and that I could not do. Flour
+is one thing and friendship is another, and they should not be confused.
+Why, the words are spelt differently, and mean
+<span class = "pagenum">81</span>
+quite different things. Everybody can see that.’</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg80.png" width = "60" height = "163"
+alt = "sitting boy"></p>
+
+<p>“‘How well you talk!’ said the Miller’s Wife, pouring herself out a
+large glass of warm ale; ‘really I feel quite drowsy. It is just like
+being in church.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Lots of people act well,’ answered the Miller; ‘but very few people
+talk well, which shows that talking is much the more difficult thing of
+the two, and much the finer thing also’; and he looked sternly across
+the table at his little son, who felt so ashamed of himself that he hung
+his head down, and grew quite scarlet, and began to cry into his tea.
+However, he was so young that you must excuse him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is that the end of the story?” asked the Water-rat.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly not,” answered the Linnet, “that is the beginning.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you are quite behind the age,” said
+<span class = "pagenum">82</span>
+the Water-rat. “Every good story-teller nowadays starts with the end,
+and then goes on to the beginning, and concludes with the middle. That
+is the new method. I&nbsp;heard all about it the other day from a critic
+who was walking round the pond with a young man. He spoke of the matter
+at great length, and I am sure he must have been right, for he had blue
+spectacles and a bald head, and whenever the young man made any remark,
+he always answered ‘Pooh!’ But pray go on with your story. I&nbsp;like
+the Miller immensely. I&nbsp;have all kinds of beautiful sentiments
+myself, so there is a great sympathy between&nbsp;us.”</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg82.png" width = "155" height = "227"
+alt = "the miller"></p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said the Linnet, hopping now on one leg and now on the other,
+“as soon as the winter was over, and the primroses
+<span class = "pagenum">83</span>
+began to open their pale yellow stars, the Miller said to his wife that
+he would go down and see little Hans.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Why, what a good heart you have!’ cried his Wife; ‘you are always
+thinking of others. And mind you take the big basket with you for the
+flowers.’</p>
+
+<p>“So the Miller tied the sails of the windmill together with a strong
+iron chain, and went down the hill with the basket on his arm.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Good morning, little Hans,’ said the Miller.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Good morning,’ said Hans, leaning on his spade, and smiling from
+ear to ear.</p>
+
+<p>“‘And how have you been all the winter?’ said the Miller.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Well, really,’ cried Hans, ‘it is very good of you to ask, very
+good indeed. I&nbsp;am afraid I had rather a hard time of it, but now
+the spring has come, and I am quite happy, and all my flowers are doing
+well<ins class = "correction" title = "text has ” for ’">.’</ins></p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">84</span>
+<p>“‘We often talked of you during the winter, Hans,’ said the Miller,
+‘and wondered how you were getting&nbsp;on.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘That was kind of you,’ said Hans; ‘I was half afraid you had
+forgotten&nbsp;me.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Hans, I am surprised at you,’ said the Miller; ‘friendship never
+forgets. That is the wonderful thing about it, but I am afraid you don’t
+understand the poetry of life. How lovely your primroses are looking,
+by-the-bye!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘They are certainly very lovely,’ said Hans, ‘and it is a most lucky
+thing for me that I have so many. I&nbsp;am going to bring them into the
+market and sell them to the Burgomaster’s daughter, and buy back my
+wheelbarrow with the money.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Buy back your wheelbarrow? You don’t mean to say you have sold it?
+What a very stupid thing to&nbsp;do!’</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">85</span>
+<p>“‘Well, the fact is,’ said Hans, ‘that I was obliged to. You see the
+winter was a very bad time for me, and I really had no money at all to
+buy bread with. So I first sold the silver buttons off my Sunday coat,
+and then I sold my silver chain, and then I sold my big pipe, and at
+last I sold my wheelbarrow. But I am going to buy them all back again
+now.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Hans,’ said the Miller, ‘I will give you my wheelbarrow. It is not
+in very good repair; indeed, one side is gone, and there is something
+wrong with the wheel-spokes; but in spite of that I will give it to you.
+I&nbsp;know it is very generous of me, and a great many people would
+think me extremely foolish for parting with it, but I am not like the
+rest of the world. I&nbsp;think that generosity is the essence of
+friendship, and, besides, I&nbsp;have got a new wheelbarrow for myself.
+Yes, you may
+<span class = "pagenum">86</span>
+set your mind at ease, I&nbsp;will give you my wheelbarrow.’</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg85.png" width = "123" height = "82"
+alt = "pipe"></p>
+
+<p>“‘Well, really, that is generous of you,’ said little Hans, and his
+funny round face glowed all over with pleasure. ‘I&nbsp;can easily put
+it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in the house.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘A plank of wood!’ said the Miller; ‘why, that is just what I want
+for the roof of my barn. There is a very large hole in it, and the corn
+will all get damp if I don’t stop it up. How lucky you mentioned it! It
+is quite remarkable how one good action always breeds another.
+I&nbsp;have given you my wheelbarrow, and now you are going to give me
+your plank. Of course, the wheelbarrow is worth far more than the plank,
+but true friendship never notices things like that. Pray get it at once,
+and I will set to work at my barn this very day.’</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">87</span>
+<p>“‘Certainly,’ cried little Hans, and he ran into the shed and dragged
+the plank out.</p>
+
+<div class = "background topright"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg87.png);">
+<!-- width 144 height 242 -->
+<div class = "rightbag" style = "width: 70px; height: 236px;">
+&nbsp;</div>
+<div class = "rightbag" style = "width: 144px; height: 6px;">
+&nbsp;</div>
+
+<p>“‘It is not a very big plank,’ said the Miller, looking at it, ‘and I
+am afraid that after I have mended my barn-roof there won’t be any left
+for you to mend the wheelbarrow with; but, of course, that is not my
+fault. And now, as I have given you my wheelbarrow, I&nbsp;am sure you
+would like to give me some flowers in return. Here is the basket, and
+mind you fill it quite full.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Quite full?’ said little Hans, rather sorrowfully, for it was
+really a very big basket, and he knew that if he filled it he would have
+no flowers left for the market, and he was very anxious to get his
+silver buttons back.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Well, really,’ answered the Miller, ‘as I have given you my
+wheelbarrow, I&nbsp;don’t think that it is much to ask you for a few
+flowers. I&nbsp;may be wrong, but I should have thought
+<span class = "pagenum">88</span>
+that friendship, true friendship, was quite free from selfishness of any
+kind.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘My dear friend, my best friend,’ cried little Hans, ‘you are
+welcome to all the flowers in my garden. I&nbsp;would much sooner have
+your good opinion than my silver buttons, any day;’ and he ran and
+plucked all his pretty primroses, and filled the Miller’s basket.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>“‘Good-bye, little Hans,’ said the Miller, as he went up the hill
+with the plank on his shoulder, and the big basket in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Good-bye,’ said little Hans, and he began to dig away quite
+merrily, he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow.</p>
+
+<p>“The next day he was nailing up some honeysuckle against the porch,
+when he heard the Miller’s voice calling to him from the road. So he
+jumped off the ladder, and ran down the garden, and looked over the
+wall.</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg88.png" width = "147" height = "87"
+alt = "Hans carrying sack"></p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">89</span>
+<p>“There was the Miller with a large sack of flour on his back.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Dear little Hans,’ said the Miller, ‘would you mind carrying this
+sack of flour for me to market?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Oh, I am so sorry,’ said Hans, ‘but I am really very busy to-day.
+I&nbsp;have got all my creepers to nail up, and all my flowers to water,
+and all my grass to roll.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Well, really,’ said the Miller, ‘I think that, considering that I
+am going to give you my wheelbarrow, it is rather unfriendly of you to
+refuse.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Oh, don’t say that,’ cried little Hans, ‘I wouldn’t be unfriendly
+for the whole world;’ and he ran in for his cap, and trudged off with
+the big sack on his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>“It was a very hot day, and the road was terribly dusty, and before
+Hans had reached the sixth milestone he was so tired that he had
+<span class = "pagenum">90</span>
+to sit down and rest. However, he went on bravely, and at last he
+reached the market. After he had waited there some time, he sold the
+sack of flour for a very good price, and then he returned home at once,
+for he was afraid that if he stopped too late he might meet some robbers
+on the way.</p>
+
+<p>“‘It has certainly been a hard day,’ said little Hans to himself as
+he was going to bed, ‘but I am glad I did not refuse the Miller, for he
+is my best friend, and, besides, he is going to give me his
+wheelbarrow.’</p>
+
+<p>“Early the next morning the Miller came down to get the money for his
+sack of flour, but little Hans was so tired that he was still in
+bed.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Upon my word,’ said the Miller, ‘you are very lazy. Really,
+considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, I&nbsp;think you
+might work harder. Idleness is a great
+<span class = "pagenum">91</span>
+sin, and I certainly don’t like any of my friends to be idle or
+sluggish. You must not mind my speaking quite plainly to you. Of course
+I should not dream of doing so if I were not your friend. But what is
+the good of friendship if one cannot say exactly what one means? Anybody
+can say charming things and try to please and to flatter, but a true
+friend always says unpleasant things, and does not mind giving pain.
+Indeed, if he is a really true friend he prefers it, for he knows that
+then he is doing good.’</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg91.png" width = "99" height = "159"
+alt = "Hans"></p>
+
+<p>“‘I am very sorry,’ said little Hans, rubbing his eyes and pulling
+off his night-cap, ‘but I was so tired that I thought I would lie in bed
+for a little time, and listen to the birds singing. Do you know that I
+always work better after hearing the birds sing?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Well, I am glad of that,’ said the Miller, clapping little Hans on
+the back, ‘for I want
+<span class = "pagenum">92</span>
+you to come up to the mill as soon as you are dressed and mend my
+barn-roof for&nbsp;me.’</p>
+
+<p>“Poor little Hans was very anxious to go and work in his garden, for
+his flowers had not been watered for two days, but he did not like to
+refuse the Miller as he was such a good friend to him.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Do you think it would be unfriendly of me if I said I was busy?’ he
+inquired in a shy and timid voice.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Well, really,’ answered the Miller, ‘I do not think it is much to
+ask of you, considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow; but
+of course if you refuse I will go and do it myself.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Oh! on no account,’ cried little Hans; and he jumped out of bed,
+and dressed himself, and went up to the barn.</p>
+
+<p>“He worked there all day long, till sunset, and at sunset the Miller
+came to see how he was getting&nbsp;on.</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate92" id = "plate92">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">92a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate92.jpg" width = "400" height = "560"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+HANS IN HIS GARDEN</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">93</span>
+<p>“‘Have you mended the hole in the roof yet, little Hans?’ cried the
+Miller in a cheery voice.</p>
+
+<p>“‘It is quite mended,’ answered little Hans, coming down the
+ladder.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Ah!’ said the Miller, ‘there is no work so delightful as the work
+one does for others.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘It is certainly a great privilege to hear you talk,’ answered
+little Hans, sitting down and wiping his forehead, ‘a&nbsp;very great
+privilege. But I am afraid I shall never have such beautiful ideas as
+you have.’</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg93.png" width = "50" height = "240"
+alt = "Hans in silhouette"></p>
+
+<p>“‘Oh! they will come to you,’ said the Miller, ‘but you must take
+more pains. At present you have only the practice of friendship; some
+day you will have the theory also.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Do you really think I shall?’ asked little Hans.</p>
+
+<p>“‘I have no doubt of it,’ answered the Miller, ‘but now that you have
+mended the
+<span class = "pagenum">94</span>
+roof, you had better go home and rest, for I want you to drive my sheep
+to the mountain to-morrow.’</p>
+
+<p>“Poor little Hans was afraid to say anything to this, and early the
+next morning the Miller brought his sheep round to the cottage, and Hans
+started off with them to the mountain. It took him the whole day to get
+there and back; and when he returned he was so tired that he went off to
+sleep in his chair, and did not wake up till it was broad daylight.</p>
+
+<p>“‘What a delightful time I shall have in my garden!’ he said, and he
+went to work at once.</p>
+
+<p>“But somehow he was never able to look after his flowers at all, for
+his friend the Miller was always coming round and sending him off on
+long errands, or getting him to help at the mill. Little Hans was very
+much distressed at times, as he was afraid his flowers
+<span class = "pagenum">95</span>
+would think he had forgotten them, but he consoled himself by the
+reflection that the Miller was his best friend. ‘Besides,’ he used to
+say, ‘he is going to give me his wheelbarrow, and that is an act of pure
+generosity.’</p>
+
+<p>“So little Hans worked away for the Miller, and the Miller said all
+kinds of beautiful things about friendship, which Hans took down in a
+notebook, and used to read over at night, for he was a very good
+scholar.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg95.png" width = "92" height = "203"
+alt = "the miller"></p>
+
+<p>“Now it happened that one evening little Hans was sitting by his
+fireside when a loud rap came at the door. It was a very wild night, and
+the wind was blowing and roaring round the house so terribly that at
+first he thought it was merely the storm. But a second rap came, and
+then a third, louder than any of the others.</p>
+
+<p>“‘It is some poor traveller,’ said little Hans to himself, and he ran
+to the door.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">96</span>
+<p>“There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big stick in
+the other.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Dear little Hans,’ cried the Miller, ‘I am in great trouble. My
+little boy has fallen off a ladder and hurt himself, and I am going for
+the Doctor. But he lives so far away, and it is such a bad night, that
+it has just occurred to me that it would be much better if you went
+instead of me. You know I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, and so it
+is only fair that you should do something for me in return.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Certainly,’ cried little Hans, ‘I take it quite as a compliment
+your coming to me, and I will start off at once. But you must lend me
+your lantern, as the night is so dark that I am afraid I might fall into
+the ditch.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘I am very sorry,’ answered the Miller, ‘but it is my new lantern
+and it would be a great loss to me if anything happened to&nbsp;it.’</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">97</span>
+<p>“‘Well, never mind, I will do without it,’ cried little Hans, and he
+took down his great fur coat, and his warm scarlet cap, and tied a
+muffler round his throat, and started off.</p>
+
+<p>“What a dreadful storm it was! The night was so black that little
+Hans could hardly see, and the wind was so strong that he could scarcely
+stand. However, he was very courageous, and after he had been walking
+about three hours, he arrived at the Doctor’s house, and knocked at the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Who is there?’ cried the Doctor, putting his head out of his
+bedroom window.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Little Hans, Doctor.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘What do you want, little Hans?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘The Miller’s son has fallen from a ladder, and has hurt himself,
+and the Miller wants you to come at once.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘All right!’ said the Doctor; and he ordered his horse, and his big
+boots, and his
+<span class = "pagenum">98</span>
+lantern, and came downstairs, and rode off in the direction of the
+Miller’s house, little Hans trudging behind him.</p>
+
+<p>“But the storm grew worse and worse, and the rain fell in torrents,
+and little Hans could not see where he was going, or keep up with the
+horse. At last he lost his way, and wandered off on the moor, which was
+a very dangerous place, as it was full of deep holes, and there poor
+little Hans was drowned. His body was found the next day by some
+goatherds, floating in a great pool of water, and was brought back by
+them to the cottage.</p>
+
+<p>“Everybody went to little Hans’ funeral, as he was so popular, and
+the Miller was the chief mourner.</p>
+
+<p>“‘As I was his best friend,’ said the Miller, ‘it is only fair that I
+should have the best place;’ so he walked at the head of the procession
+in a long black cloak, and every now
+<span class = "pagenum">99</span>
+and then he wiped his eyes with a big pocket-handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Little Hans is certainly a great loss to every one,’ said the
+Blacksmith, when the funeral was over, and they were all seated
+comfortably in the inn, drinking spiced wine and eating sweet cakes.</p>
+
+<table class = "background bottomright"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg99.png);">
+<!-- width 480 height 98 -->
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+“‘A great loss to me at any rate,’ answered the Miller, ‘why, I&nbsp;had
+as good as given him my wheelbarrow, and now I really don’t know what to
+do with it. It is very much in my way at home, and it is in such bad
+repair that I could not get anything for it if I sold it. I&nbsp;will
+certainly take care not to give away anything again. One always suffers
+for being generous.’”</p>
+</td>
+<td style = "width: 88px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td class = "micro" style = "height: 2px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>“Well?” said the Water-rat, after a long pause.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that is the end,” said the Linnet.</p>
+
+<p>“But what became of the Miller?” asked the Water-rat.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">100</span>
+<p>“Oh! I really don’t know,” replied the Linnet; “and I am sure that I
+don’t care.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is quite evident then that you have no sympathy in your nature,”
+said the Water-rat.</p>
+
+<p>“I am afraid you don’t quite see the moral of the story,” remarked
+the Linnet.</p>
+
+<p>“The what?” screamed the Water-rat.</p>
+
+<p>“The moral.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean to say that the story has a moral?”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly,” said the Linnet.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, really,” said the Water-rat, in a very angry manner,
+“I&nbsp;think you should have told me that before you began. If you had
+done so, I&nbsp;certainly would not have listened to you; in fact,
+I&nbsp;should have said ‘Pooh,’ like the critic. However, I&nbsp;can say
+it now;” so he shouted out “Pooh” at the top of his voice, gave a whisk
+with his tail, and went back into his hole.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">101</span>
+<p>“And how do you like the Water-rat?” asked the Duck, who came
+paddling up some minutes afterwards. “He has a great many good points,
+but for my own part I have a mother’s feelings, and I can never look at
+a confirmed bachelor without the tears coming into my eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am rather afraid that I have annoyed him,” answered the Linnet.
+“The fact is, that I told him a story with a moral.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! that is always a very dangerous thing to do,” said the Duck.</p>
+
+<p>And I quite agree with her.</p>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg101.png" width = "153" height = "197"
+alt = "water rat's tail"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "fullpage">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">102</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg102.png" width = "113" height = "58"
+alt = "Hans walking"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">103</span>
+
+<!-- b_pg103.png width = 482 height = 611 -->
+
+<table class = "background title"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg103.png);
+width: 482px; height: 611px;">
+<tr>
+<td class = "filler">
+<a name = "rocket" id = "rocket">&nbsp;</a></td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td>
+<h3 class = "left">THE<br>
+REMARKABLE<br>
+ROCKET</h3>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<div class = "fullpage">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">104</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg104.png" width = "141" height = "208"
+alt = "firecracker"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">105</span>
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg105.png" width = "221" height = "67"
+alt = "prince"></p>
+
+<h4>THE REMARKABLE ROCKET</h4>
+
+<p><span class = "dropcap">
+<img src = "images/capT.png" width = "143" height = "139"
+alt = "T"></span><span class = "firstword">he</span> King’s son was
+going to be married, so there were general rejoicings. He had waited a
+whole year for his bride, and at last she had arrived. She was a Russian
+Princess, and had driven all the way from Finland in a sledge drawn by
+six reindeer. The sledge was shaped like a great golden swan, and
+between the swan’s wings lay the little Princess herself. Her long
+ermine cloak reached right down to
+<span class = "pagenum">106</span>
+her feet, on her head was a tiny cap of silver tissue, and she was as
+pale as the Snow Palace in which she had always lived. So pale was she
+that as she drove through the streets all the people wondered. “She is
+like a white rose!” they cried, and they threw down flowers on her from
+the balconies.</p>
+
+<p>At the gate of the Castle the Prince was waiting to receive her. He
+had dreamy violet eyes, and his hair was like fine gold. When he saw her
+he sank upon one knee, and kissed her hand.</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg106.png" width = "354" height = "99"
+alt = "prince and bride"></p>
+
+<p>“Your picture was beautiful,” he murmured, “but you are more
+beautiful than your picture;” and the little Princess blushed.</p>
+
+<p>“She was like a white rose before,” said a young page to his
+neighbour, “but she is like a red rose now;” and the whole Court was
+delighted.</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate106" id = "plate106">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">106a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate106.jpg" width = "399" height = "560"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+THE RUSSIAN PRINCESS</p>
+
+<p>For the next three days everybody went
+<span class = "pagenum">107</span>
+about saying, “White rose, Red rose, Red rose, White rose;” and the King
+gave orders that the Page’s salary was to be doubled. As he received no
+salary at all this was not of much use to him, but it was considered a
+great honour, and was duly published in the Court Gazette.</p>
+
+<p>When the three days were over the marriage was celebrated. It was a
+magnificent ceremony, and the bride and bridegroom walked hand in hand
+under a canopy of purple velvet embroidered with little pearls. Then
+there was a State Banquet, which lasted for five hours. The Prince and
+Princess sat at the top of the Great Hall and drank out of a cup of
+clear crystal. Only true lovers could drink out of this cup, for if
+false lips touched it, it grew grey and dull and cloudy.</p>
+
+<p>“It is quite clear that they love each other,” said the little Page,
+“as clear as crystal!” and the King doubled his salary a second
+time.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">108</span>
+<p>“What an honour!” cried all the courtiers.</p>
+
+<p>After the banquet there was to be a Ball. The bride and bridegroom
+were to dance the Rose-dance together, and the King had promised to play
+the flute. He played very badly, but no one had ever dared to tell him
+so, because he was the King. Indeed, he knew only two airs, and was
+never quite certain which one he was playing; but it made no matter,
+for, whatever he did, everybody cried out, “Charming! charming!”</p>
+
+<table class = "background bottomleft"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg108.png); height: 184px;">
+<!-- width 522 height 184 -->
+<tr>
+<td style = "width: 176px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+The last item on the programme was a grand display of fireworks, to be
+let off exactly at midnight. The little Princess had never seen a
+firework in her life, so the King had given orders that the Royal
+Pyrotechnist should be in attendance on the day of her marriage.</p>
+
+<p>“What are fireworks like?” she had asked the Prince, one morning, as
+she was walking on the terrace.</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td style = "height: 24px;">&nbsp;</td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">109</span>
+<p>“They are like the Aurora Borealis,” said the King, who always
+answered questions that were addressed to other people, “only much more
+natural. I&nbsp;prefer them to stars myself, as you always know when
+they are going to appear, and they are as delightful as my own
+flute-playing. You must certainly see them.”</p>
+
+<p>So at the end of the King’s garden a great stand had been set up, and
+as soon as the Royal Pyrotechnist had put everything in its proper
+place, the fireworks began to talk to each other.</p>
+
+<table class = "background bottomright"
+style = "background-image: url(images/b_pg109.png);">
+<!-- width 437 height 56 -->
+<tr>
+<td>
+<p class = "nospace">
+“The world is certainly very beautiful,” cried a little Squib. “Just
+look at those yellow tulips. Why! if they were real Crackers they could
+not be lovelier. I&nbsp;am very glad I have travelled. Travel improves
+the mind wonderfully, and does away with all one’s prejudices.”</p>
+</td>
+<td style = "width: 225px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td class = "micro" style = "height: 4px;">&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>“The King’s garden is not the world, you foolish Squib,” said a big
+Roman Candle; “the
+<span class = "pagenum">110</span>
+world is an enormous place, and it would take you three days to see it
+thoroughly.”</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg110.png" width = "32" height = "291"
+alt = "Roman Candle"></p>
+
+<p>“Any place you love is the world to you,” exclaimed the pensive
+Catherine Wheel, who had been attached to an old deal box in early life,
+and prided herself on her broken heart; “but love is not fashionable any
+more, the poets have killed it. They wrote so much about it that nobody
+believed them, and I am not surprised. True love suffers, and is silent.
+I&nbsp;remember myself once&mdash;&mdash; But it is no matter now.
+Romance is a thing of the past.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nonsense!” said the Roman Candle, “Romance never dies. It is like
+the moon, and lives for ever. The bride and bridegroom, for instance,
+love each other very dearly. I&nbsp;heard all about them this morning
+from a brown-paper cartridge, who happened to be staying in the same
+drawer as myself, and he knew the latest Court news.”</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">111</span>
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg111.png" width = "18" height = "411"
+alt = "firework"></p>
+
+<p>But the Catherine Wheel shook her head. “Romance is dead, Romance is
+dead, Romance is dead,” she murmured. She was one of those people who
+think that, if you say the same thing over and over a great many times,
+it becomes true in the end.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard, and they all looked
+round.</p>
+
+<p>It came from a tall, supercilious-looking Rocket, who was tied to the
+end of a long stick. He always coughed before he made any observation,
+so as to attract attention.</p>
+
+<p>“Ahem! ahem!” he said, and everybody listened except the poor
+Catherine Wheel, who was still shaking her head, and murmuring, “Romance
+is dead.”</p>
+
+<p>“Order! order!” cried out a Cracker. He was something of a
+politician, and had always taken a prominent part in the local
+elections, so he knew the proper Parliamentary expressions to use.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">112</span>
+<p>“Quite dead,” whispered the Catherine Wheel, and she went off to
+sleep.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as there was perfect silence, the Rocket coughed a third time
+and began. He spoke with a very slow, distinct voice, as if he was
+dictating his memoirs, and always looked over the shoulder of the person
+to whom he was talking. In fact, he had a most distinguished manner.</p>
+
+<p>“How fortunate it is for the King’s son,” he remarked, “that he is to
+be married on the very day on which I am to be let off! Really, if it
+had been arranged beforehand, it could not have turned out better for
+him; but Princes are always lucky.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dear me!” said the little Squib, “I thought it was quite the other
+way, and that we were to be let off in the Prince’s honour.”</p>
+
+<div class = "background topleft" style = "background-image:
+url(images/b_pg113.png);">
+<!-- width = 82 height = 405 -->
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 20px; height: 55px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 60px; height: 60px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 82px; height:
+290px;">&nbsp;</div>
+
+<p>“It may be so with you,” he answered; “indeed, I have no doubt that
+it is, but with
+<span class = "pagenum">113</span>
+me it is different. I&nbsp;am a very remarkable Rocket, and come of
+remarkable parents. My mother was the most celebrated Catherine Wheel of
+her day, and was renowned for her graceful dancing. When she made her
+great public appearance she spun round nineteen times before she went
+out, and each time that she did so she threw into the air seven pink
+stars. She was three feet and a half in diameter, and made of the very
+best gunpowder. My father was a Rocket like myself, and of French
+extraction. He flew so high that the people were afraid that he would
+never come down again. He did, though, for he was of a kindly
+disposition, and he made a most brilliant descent in a shower of golden
+rain. The newspapers wrote about his performance in very flattering
+terms. Indeed, the Court Gazette called him a triumph of Pylotechnic
+art.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean,” said
+<span class = "pagenum">114</span>
+a Bengal Light; “I&nbsp;know it is Pyrotechnic, for I saw it written on
+my own canister.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I said Pylotechnic,” answered the Rocket, in a severe tone of
+voice, and the Bengal Light felt so crushed that he began at once to
+bully the little squibs, in order to show that he was still a person of
+some importance.</p>
+
+<p>“I was saying,” continued the Rocket, “I was saying&mdash;&mdash;
+What was I saying?”</p>
+
+<p>“You were talking about yourself,” replied the Roman Candle.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course; I knew I was discussing some interesting subject when I
+was so rudely interrupted. I&nbsp;hate rudeness and bad manners of every
+kind, for I am extremely sensitive. No one in the whole world is so
+sensitive as I am, I&nbsp;am quite sure of that.”</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>“What is a sensitive person?” said the Cracker to the Roman
+Candle.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg114.png" width = "205" height = "168"
+alt = "exploding firework"></p>
+
+<p>“A person who, because he has corns
+<span class = "pagenum">115</span>
+himself, always treads on other people’s toes,” answered the Roman
+Candle in a low whisper; and the Cracker nearly exploded with
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>“Pray, what are you laughing at?” inquired the Rocket; “I&nbsp;am not
+laughing.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am laughing because I am happy,” replied the Cracker.</p>
+
+<p>“That is a very selfish reason,” said the Rocket angrily. “What right
+have you to be happy? You should be thinking about others. In fact, you
+should be thinking about me. I&nbsp;am always thinking about myself, and
+I expect everybody else to do the same. That is what is called sympathy.
+It is a beautiful virtue, and I possess it in a high degree. Suppose,
+for instance, anything happened to me to-night, what a misfortune that
+would be for every one! The Prince and Princess would never be happy
+again, their whole married life would be spoiled; and as for the King,
+I&nbsp;know he would not get
+<span class = "pagenum">116</span>
+over it. Really, when I begin to reflect on the importance of my
+position, I&nbsp;am almost moved to tears.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you want to give pleasure to others,” cried the Roman Candle,
+“you had better keep yourself dry.”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly,” exclaimed the Bengal Light, who was now in better
+spirits; “that is only common sense.”</p>
+
+<p class = "leftfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg116.png" width = "23" height = "307"
+alt = "firework"></p>
+
+<p>“Common sense, indeed!” said the Rocket indignantly; “you forget that
+I am very uncommon, and very remarkable. Why, anybody can have common
+sense, provided that they have no imagination. But I have imagination,
+for I never think of things as they really are; I&nbsp;always think of
+them as being quite different. As for keeping myself dry, there is
+evidently no one here who can at all appreciate an emotional nature.
+Fortunately for myself, I&nbsp;don’t care. The only thing that sustains
+one
+<span class = "pagenum">117</span>
+through life is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of
+everybody else, and this is a feeling I have always cultivated. But none
+of you have any hearts. Here you are laughing and making merry just as
+if the Prince and Princess had not just been married.”</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg117.png" width = "158" height = "201"
+alt = "fire-balloon"></p>
+
+<p>“Well, really,” exclaimed a small Fire-balloon, “why not? It is a
+most joyful occasion, and when I soar up into the air I intend to tell
+the stars all about it. You will see them twinkle when I talk to them
+about the pretty bride.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! what a trivial view of life!” said the Rocket; “but it is only
+what I expected. There is nothing in you; you are hollow and empty. Why,
+perhaps the Prince and Princess may go to live in a country where there
+is a deep river, and perhaps they may have one only
+<span class = "pagenum">118</span>
+son, a&nbsp;little fair-haired boy with violet eyes like the Prince
+himself; and perhaps some day he may go out to walk with his nurse; and
+perhaps the nurse may go to sleep under a great elder-tree; and perhaps
+the little boy may fall into the deep river and be drowned. What a
+terrible misfortune! Poor people, to lose their only son! It is really
+too dreadful! I&nbsp;shall never get over&nbsp;it.”</p>
+
+<p>“But they have not lost their only son,” said the Roman Candle; “no
+misfortune has happened to them at all.”</p>
+
+<p>“I never said that they had,” replied the Rocket; “I&nbsp;said that
+they might. If they had lost their only son there would be no use in
+saying anything more about the matter. I&nbsp;hate people who cry over
+spilt milk. But when I think that they might lose their only son,
+I&nbsp;certainly am much affected.”</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration left">
+<img src = "images/b_pg118.png" width = "172" height = "62"
+alt = "woman on bench"></p>
+
+<p>“You certainly are!” cried the Bengal Light.
+<span class = "pagenum">119</span>
+“In fact, you are the most affected person I ever met.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are the rudest person I ever met,” said the Rocket, “and you
+cannot understand my friendship for the Prince.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, you don’t even know him,” growled the Roman Candle.</p>
+
+<p>“I never said I knew him,” answered the Rocket. “I dare say that if I
+knew him I should not be his friend at all. It is a very dangerous thing
+to know one’s friends.”</p>
+
+<p>“You had really better keep yourself dry,” said the Fire-balloon.
+“That is the important thing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very important for you, I have no doubt,” answered the Rocket, “but
+I shall weep if I choose;” and he actually burst into real tears, which
+flowed down his stick like rain-drops, and nearly drowned two little
+beetles, who were just thinking of setting up house together,
+<span class = "pagenum">120</span>
+and were looking for a nice dry spot to live&nbsp;in.</p>
+
+<p>“He must have a truly romantic nature,” said the Catherine Wheel,
+“for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about;” and she
+heaved a deep sigh and thought about the deal box.</p>
+
+<p>But the Roman Candle and the Bengal Light were quite indignant, and
+kept saying, “Humbug! humbug!” at the top of their voices. They were
+extremely practical, and whenever they objected to anything they called
+it humbug.</p>
+
+<p>Then the moon rose like a wonderful silver shield; and the stars
+began to shine, and a sound of music came from the palace.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince and Princess were leading the dance. They danced so
+beautifully that the tall white lilies peeped in at the window and
+watched them, and the great red poppies nodded their heads and beat
+time.</p>
+
+<div class = "background topright" style = "background-image:
+url(images/b_pg121.png);">
+<!-- width = 194 height = 142 -->
+<div class = "rightbag" style = "width: 106px; height:
+86px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<div class = "rightbag" style = "width: 196px; height:
+56px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<p>Then ten o’clock struck, and then eleven,
+<span class = "pagenum">121</span>
+and then twelve, and at the last stroke of midnight every one came out
+on the terrace, and the King sent for the Royal Pyrotechnist.</p>
+
+<p>“Let the fireworks begin,” said the King; and the Royal Pyrotechnist
+made a low bow, and marched down to the end of the garden. He had six
+attendants with him, each of whom carried a lighted torch at the end of
+a long pole.</p>
+
+<p>It was certainly a magnificent display.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class = "background topleft" style = "background-image:
+url(images/b_pg122.png);">
+<!-- width = 89 height = 245 -->
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 92px; height: 75px;">&nbsp;</div>
+<div class = "leftbag" style = "width: 39px; height:
+170px;">&nbsp;</div>
+
+<p>Whizz! Whizz! went the Catherine Wheel, as she spun round and round.
+Boom! Boom! went the Roman Candle. Then the Squibs danced all over the
+place, and the Bengal Lights made everything look scarlet. “Good-bye,”
+cried the Fire-balloon as he soared away, dropping tiny blue sparks.
+Bang! Bang! answered the Crackers, who were enjoying themselves
+immensely. Every one was a great success except the Remarkable Rocket.
+He
+<span class = "pagenum">122</span>
+was so damp with crying that he could not go off at all. The best thing
+in him was the gunpowder, and that was so wet with tears that it was of
+no use. All his poor relations, to whom he would never speak, except
+with a sneer, shot up into the sky like wonderful golden flowers with
+blossoms of fire. Huzza! Huzza! cried the Court; and the little Princess
+laughed with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose they are reserving me for some grand occasion,” said the
+Rocket; “no doubt that is what it means,” and he looked more
+supercilious than ever.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class = "illustration plate">
+<a name = "plate122" id = "plate122">&nbsp;</a><br>
+<span class = "pagenum">122a</span>
+<img src = "images/c_plate122.jpg" width = "399" height = "561"
+alt = "see caption"></p>
+
+<p class = "caption">
+“LET THE FIREWORKS BEGIN,” SAID THE KING</p>
+
+<p>The next day the workmen came to put everything tidy. “This is
+evidently a deputation,” said the Rocket; “I&nbsp;will receive them with
+becoming dignity”: so he put his nose in the air, and began to frown
+severely as if he were thinking about some very important subject. But
+they took no notice of him at
+<span class = "pagenum">123</span>
+all till they were just going away. Then one of them caught sight of
+him. “Hallo!” he cried, “what a bad rocket!” and he threw him over the
+wall into the ditch.</p>
+
+<p>“<span class = "smallcaps">Bad</span> Rocket? <span class =
+"smallcaps">Bad</span> Rocket?” he said, as he whirled through the air;
+“impossible! <span class = "smallcaps">Grand</span> Rocket, that is what
+the man said. <span class = "smallcaps">Bad</span> and <span class =
+"smallcaps">Grand</span> sound very much the same, indeed they often are
+the same;” and he fell into the mud.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg123.png" width = "145" height = "202"
+alt = "frog"></p>
+
+<p>“It is not comfortable here,” he remarked, “but no doubt it is some
+fashionable watering-place, and they have sent me away to recruit my
+health. My nerves are certainly very much shattered, and I require
+rest.”</p>
+
+<p>Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled
+coat, swam up to him.</p>
+
+<p>“A new arrival, I see!” said the Frog. “Well, after all there is
+nothing like mud. Give me rainy weather and a ditch, and I am
+<span class = "pagenum">124</span>
+quite happy. Do you think it will be a wet afternoon? I&nbsp;am sure I
+hope so, but the sky is quite blue and cloudless. What a pity!”</p>
+
+<p>“Ahem! ahem!” said the Rocket, and he began to cough.</p>
+
+<p>“What a delightful voice you have!” cried the Frog. “Really it is
+quite like a croak, and croaking is of course the most musical sound in
+the world. You will hear our glee-club this evening. We sit in the old
+duck pond close by the farmer’s house, and as soon as the moon rises we
+begin. It is so entrancing that everybody lies awake to listen to us. In
+fact, it was only yesterday that I heard the farmer’s wife say to her
+mother that she could not get a wink of sleep at night on account of us.
+It is most gratifying to find oneself so popular.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ahem! ahem!” said the Rocket angrily. He was very much annoyed that
+he could not get a word&nbsp;in.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">125</span>
+<p>“A delightful voice, certainly,” continued the Frog; “I&nbsp;hope you
+will come over to the duck-pond. I&nbsp;am off to look for my daughters.
+I&nbsp;have six beautiful daughters, and I am so afraid the Pike may
+meet them. He is a perfect monster, and would have no hesitation in
+breakfasting off them. Well, good-bye: I&nbsp;have enjoyed our
+conversation very much, I&nbsp;assure you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Conversation, indeed!” said the Rocket. “You have talked the whole
+time yourself. That is not conversation.”</p>
+
+<p>“Somebody must listen,” answered the Frog, “and I like to do all the
+talking myself. It saves time, and prevents arguments.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I like arguments,” said the Rocket.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope not,” said the Frog complacently. “Arguments are extremely
+vulgar, for everybody in good society holds exactly the same opinions.
+Good-bye a second time; I&nbsp;see my daughters
+<span class = "pagenum">126</span>
+in the distance;” and the little Frog swam away.</p>
+
+<p>“You are a very irritating person,” said the Rocket, “and very
+ill-bred. I&nbsp;hate people who talk about themselves, as you do, when
+one wants to talk about oneself, as I do. It is what I call selfishness,
+and selfishness is a most detestable thing, especially to any one of my
+temperament, for I am well known for my sympathetic nature. In fact, you
+should take example by me; you could not possibly have a better model.
+Now that you have the chance you had better avail yourself of it, for I
+am going back to Court almost immediately. I&nbsp;am a great favourite
+at Court; in fact, the Prince and Princess were married yesterday in my
+honour. Of course you know nothing of these matters, for you are a
+provincial.”</p>
+
+<p>“There is no good talking to him,” said a dragon-fly, who was sitting
+on the top of a
+<span class = "pagenum">127</span>
+large brown bulrush; “no good at all, for he has gone away.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that is his loss, not mine,” answered the Rocket. “I&nbsp;am
+not going to stop talking to him merely because he pays no attention.
+I&nbsp;like hearing myself talk. It is one of my greatest pleasures.
+I&nbsp;often have long conversations all by myself, and I am so clever
+that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I am
+saying.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you should certainly lecture on Philosophy,” said the
+Dragon-fly, and he spread a pair of lovely gauze wings and soared away
+into the sky.</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg127.png" width = "88" height = "67"
+alt = "dragonfly"></p>
+
+<p>“How very silly of him not to stay here!” said the Rocket. “I&nbsp;am
+sure that he has not often got such a chance of improving his mind.
+However, I&nbsp;don’t care a bit. Genius like mine is sure to be
+appreciated some day;” and he sank down a little deeper into the
+mud.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">128</span>
+<p>After some time a large White Duck swam up to him. She had yellow
+legs, and webbed feet, and was considered a great beauty on account of
+her waddle.</p>
+
+<p>“Quack, quack, quack,” she said. “What a curious shape you are! May I
+ask were you born like that, or is it the result of an accident?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is quite evident that you have always lived in the country,”
+answered the Rocket, “otherwise you would know who I am. However,
+I&nbsp;excuse your ignorance. It would be unfair to expect other people
+to be as remarkable as oneself. You will no doubt be surprised to hear
+that I can fly up into the sky, and come down in a shower of golden
+rain.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t think much of that,” said the Duck, “as I cannot see what
+use it is to any one. Now, if you could plough the fields like the ox,
+or draw a cart like the horse, or look after the
+<span class = "pagenum">129</span>
+sheep like the collie-dog, that would be something.”</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg128.png" width = "413" height = "33"
+alt = "duck"></p>
+
+<p>“My good creature,” cried the Rocket in a very haughty tone of voice,
+“I&nbsp;see that you belong to the lower orders. A&nbsp;person of my
+position is never useful. We have certain accomplishments, and that is
+more than sufficient. I&nbsp;have no sympathy myself with industry of
+any kind, least of all with such industries as you seem to recommend.
+Indeed, I&nbsp;have always been of opinion that hard work is simply the
+refuge of people who have nothing whatever to&nbsp;do.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, well,” said the Duck, who was of a very peaceable disposition,
+and never quarrelled with any one, “everybody has different tastes.
+I&nbsp;hope, at any rate, that you are going to take up your residence
+here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! dear no,” cried the Rocket. “I am merely a visitor,
+a&nbsp;distinguished visitor. The
+<span class = "pagenum">130</span>
+fact is that I find this place rather tedious. There is neither society
+here, nor solitude. In fact, it is essentially suburban. I&nbsp;shall
+probably go back to Court, for I know that I am destined to make a
+sensation in the world.”</p>
+
+<p>“I had thoughts of entering public life once myself,” remarked the
+Duck; “there are so many things that need reforming. Indeed, I&nbsp;took
+the chair at a meeting some time ago, and we passed resolutions
+condemning everything that we did not like. However, they did not seem
+to have much effect. Now I go in for domesticity, and look after my
+family.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am made for public life,” said the Rocket, “and so are all my
+relations, even the humblest of them. Whenever we appear we excite great
+attention. I&nbsp;have not actually appeared myself, but when I do so it
+will be a magnificent sight. As for domesticity, it ages one rapidly,
+and distracts one’s mind from higher things.”</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">131</span>
+<p>“Ah! the higher things of life, how fine they are!” said the Duck;
+“and that reminds me how hungry I feel:” and she swam away down the
+stream, saying, “Quack, quack, quack.”</p>
+
+<p class = "figfloat">
+<img src = "images/b_pg131.png" width = "253" height = "259"
+alt = "children in silhouette"></p>
+
+<p>“Come back! come back!” screamed the Rocket, “I have a great deal to
+say to you;” but the Duck paid no attention to him. “I&nbsp;am glad that
+she has gone,” he said to himself, “she has a decidedly middle-class
+mind;” and he sank a little deeper still into the mud, and began to
+think about the loneliness of genius, when suddenly two little boys in
+white smocks came running down the bank, with a kettle and some
+faggots.</p>
+
+<p>“This must be the deputation,” said the Rocket, and he tried to look
+very dignified.</p>
+
+<p>“Hallo!” cried one of the boys, “look at
+<span class = "pagenum">132</span>
+this old stick! I&nbsp;wonder how it came here;” and he picked the
+Rocket out of the ditch.</p>
+
+<p>“<span class = "smallcaps">Old</span> Stick!” said the Rocket,
+“impossible! <span class = "smallcaps">Gold</span> Stick, that is what
+he said. Gold Stick is very complimentary. In fact, he mistakes me for
+one of the Court dignitaries!”</p>
+
+<p>“Let us put it into the fire!” said the other boy, “it will help to
+boil the kettle.”</p>
+
+<p>So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and
+lit the fire.</p>
+
+<p>“This is magnificent,” cried the Rocket, “they are going to let me
+off in broad daylight, so that everyone can see&nbsp;me.”</p>
+
+<p>“We will go to sleep now,” they said, “and when we wake up the kettle
+will be boiled;” and they lay down on the grass, and shut their
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The Rocket was very damp, so he took a long time to burn. At last,
+however, the fire caught him.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">133</span>
+<p>“Now I am going off!” he cried, and he made himself very stiff and
+straight. “I&nbsp;know I shall go much higher than the stars, much
+higher than the moon, much higher than the sun. In fact, I&nbsp;shall go
+so high that&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>Fizz! Fizz! Fizz! and he went straight up into the air.</p>
+
+<p>“Delightful,” he cried, “I shall go on like this for ever. What a
+success I&nbsp;am!”</p>
+
+<p>But nobody saw him.</p>
+
+<p>Then he began to feel a curious tingling sensation all over him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now I am going to explode,” he cried. “I shall set the whole world
+on fire, and make such a noise that nobody will talk about anything else
+for a whole year.” And he certainly did explode. Bang! Bang! Bang! went
+the gunpowder. There was no doubt about&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>But nobody heard him, not even the two little boys, for they were
+sound asleep.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">134</span>
+<p>Then all that was left of him was the stick, and this fell down on
+the back of a Goose who was taking a walk by the side of the ditch.</p>
+
+<p>“Good heavens!” cried the Goose. “It is going to rain sticks;” and
+she rushed into the water.</p>
+
+<p>“I knew I should create a great sensation,” gasped the Rocket, and he
+went out.</p>
+
+<div class = "page">
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/b_pg134.png" width = "125" height = "187"
+alt = "squib"></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr class = "page">
+
+<h6>PRINTED BY<br>
+HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.<br>
+LONDON AND AYLESBURY.</h6>
+
+</div>
+<!-- end div maintext -->
+
+<div class = "endnote">
+
+<h4><a name = "thumbs" id = "thumbs" href = "#start">
+Thumbnails</a></h4>
+
+<p>Some pages were designed as facing pairs. These are the most
+distinctive ones.</p>
+
+<h5>Pages 36-37:</h5>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<img src = "images/spread36_37.png" width = "541" height = "381"
+alt = "page image"></p>
+
+<h5>Pages 44-45:</h5>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<img src = "images/spread44_45.png" width = "537" height = "388"
+alt = "page image"></p>
+
+<h5>Pages 46-47:</h5>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<img src = "images/spread46_47.png" width = "536" height = "386"
+alt = "page image"></p>
+
+<h5>Pages 108-109:</h5>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<img src = "images/spread108_109.png" width = "540" height = "387"
+alt = "page image"></p>
+
+
+<!-- 44-45
+46-47
+108-109 -->
+
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<!-- end div overall -->
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30120 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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