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diff --git a/old/30120.txt b/old/30120.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..875ec20 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30120.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2395 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Happy Prince and Other Tales, by Oscar +Wilde, Illustrated by Charles Robinson + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Happy Prince and Other Tales + + +Author: Oscar Wilde + + + +Release Date: September 28, 2009 [eBook #30120] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES*** + + +E-text prepared by Louise Hope from page images generously made available +by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations + including twelve full-color plates. + See 30120-h.htm or 30120-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30120/30120-h/30120-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30120/30120-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + http://www.archive.org/details/happyprinceother00wild3 + + +Transcriber's note: + + In addition to the twelve full-color Plates, most pages have a line + drawing either in the margin or surrounding the text. These have not + been individually noted. + + The cover reads "... and Other Stories"; all interior pages read + "... and Other Tales". + + + + + +THE HAPPY PRINCE + +And Other Tales + + + [Illustration: THE KING OF THE MOUNTAINS OF THE MOON] + + +THE HAPPY PRINCE + +And Other Tales + +by + +OSCAR WILDE + +Illustrated by Charles Robinson + + + + + + + +NEW YORK: BRENTANO'S + +First published by David Nutt, May, 1888 + +Reprinted January, 1889; February, 1902; September, 1905; February, +1907; March, 1908; March, 1910 + +Reset and published by arrangement with David Nutt by Duckworth & Co., +1920 + +Special Edition, reset. With illustrations by Charles Robinson, +published by arrangement with David Nutt by Duckworth & Co., 1913. +Reprinted 1920 + +Printed in Great Britain +By Hazell, Watson and Viney, Ld., +London and Aylesbury. + + + + + _To_ + + _CARLOS BLACKER_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + _Page_ + The Happy Prince 15 + + The Nightingale and the Rose 41 + + The Selfish Giant 59 + + The Devoted Friend 73 + + The Remarkable Rocket 105 + + + + +LIST OF COLOUR PLATES + + The King of the Mountains of the Moon _Frontis._ + + _Facing page_ + The Palace of Sans-Souci 20 + + The Loveliest of the Queen's Maids of Honour 26 + + The Rich Making Merry in Their Beautiful Houses + while the Beggars were Sitting at the Gates 32 + + She will Pass me by 42 + + His Lips are Sweet as Honey 48 + + In every Tree he could see there was a + Little Child 64 + + The Little Boy he had Loved 68 + + The Green Linnet 76 + + Hans in his Garden 92 + + The Russian Princess 106 + + "Let the Fireworks Begin," said the King 122 + + + + + +THE HAPPY PRINCE + + +High 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. + +He was very much admired indeed. "He is as beautiful as a weathercock," +remarked 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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"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. + +"How do you know?" said the Mathematical Master, "you have never seen +one." + +"Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered the children; and the +Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not +approve of children dreaming. + +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. + +"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. + +"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the other Swallows; "she has +no money, and far too many relations;" and indeed the river was quite +full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew away. + +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 admit that she is domestic," he continued, "but I love travelling, +and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also." + +"Will you come away with me?" he said finally to her; but the Reed shook +her head, she was so attached to her home. + +"You have been trifling with me," he cried. "I am off to the Pyramids. +Good-bye!" and he flew away. + +All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city. "Where +shall I put up?" he said; "I hope the town has made preparations." + +Then he saw the statue on the tall column. + +"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. + +"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." + +Then another drop fell. + +"What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he said; +"I must look for a good chimney-pot," and he determined to fly away. + +But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, +and saw-- Ah! what did he see? + +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. + +"Who are you?" he said. + +"I am the Happy Prince." + +"Why are you weeping then?" asked the Swallow; "you have quite +drenched me." + + [Illustration: THE PALACE OF SANS-SOUCI] + +"When I was alive and had a human heart," answered the statue, "I 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 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." + +"What! is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow to himself. He was too +polite to make any personal remarks out loud. + +"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, 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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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 come of a family +famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect." + +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." + +"Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince. + +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. + +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 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!" + +"I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball," she +answered; "I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; +but the seamstresses are so lazy." + +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 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 must be getting better;" +and he sank into a delicious slumber. + +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." + +"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. + +When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. "What a +remarkable phenomenon," said the Professor of Ornithology as he was +passing over the bridge. "A swallow in winter!" And he wrote a long +letter about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it, it was full +of so many words that they could not understand. + +"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. + +When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. "Have you any +commissions for Egypt?" he cried; "I am just starting." + +"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay +with me one night longer?" + + [Illustration: THE LOVELIEST OF THE QUEEN'S MAIDS OF HONOUR] + +"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. 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." + +"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." + +"I will wait with you one night longer," said the Swallow, who really +had a good heart. "Shall I take him another ruby?" + +"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." + +"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do that"; and he began to +weep. + +"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I command +you." + +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. + +"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. + +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 am going to Egypt!" cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when +the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. + +"I am come to bid you good-bye," he cried. + +"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay +with me one night longer?" + +"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 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 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." + +"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." + +"I will stay with you one night longer," said the Swallow, "but I cannot +pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then." + +"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I command +you." + +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. + +Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. "You are blind now," he said, +"so I will stay with you always." + +"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you must go away to Egypt." + +"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, and he slept at the +Prince's feet. + +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 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. + +"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." + + [Illustration: THE RICH MAKING MERRY IN THEIR BEAUTIFUL HOUSES, + WHILE THE BEGGARS WERE SITTING AT THE GATES] + +So the Swallow flew over the great city, and 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. + +Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen. + +"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." + +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 faces grew rosier, and they +laughed and played games in the street. "We have bread now!" they cried. + +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. + +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. + +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, dear Prince!" +he murmured, "will you let me kiss your hand?" + +"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." + +"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow. "I am going to +the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?" + +And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his +feet. + +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. + +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 me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!" he said. + +"How shabby, indeed!" cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with +the Mayor; and they went up to look at it. + +"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!" + +"Little better than a beggar," said the Town Councillors. + +"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. + +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. + +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." + +"Of myself," said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled. +When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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 me." + + + * * * * * + + +THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE + + +"She 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." + +From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and she +looked out through the leaves, and wondered. + +"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 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." + +"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." + +"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 shall hold her in +my arms, and she will lean her head upon my shoulder, 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." + + [Illustration: SHE WILL PASS ME BY] + +"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." + +"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 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. + +"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past him +with his tail in the air. + +"Why, indeed?" said a Butterfly, who was fluttering about after a +sunbeam. + +"Why, indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his neighbour, in a soft, low voice. + +"He is weeping for a red rose," said the Nightingale. + +"For a red rose?" they cried; "how very ridiculous!" and the little +Lizard, who was something of a cynic, laughed outright. + +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. + +Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. +She passed through the grove like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed +across the garden. + +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. + +"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song." + +But the Tree shook its head. + +"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." + +So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round the +old sun-dial. + +"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song." + +But the Tree shook its head. + +"My roses are yellow," it answered; "as 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." + +So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing beneath +the Student's window. + +"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song." + +But the Tree shook its head. + +"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." + +"One red rose is all I want," cried the Nightingale, "only one red rose! +Is there no way by which I can get it?" + +"There is a way," answered the Tree; "but it is so terrible that I dare +not tell it to you." + +"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am not afraid." + +"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." + +"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 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?" + +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. + +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. + +"Be happy," cried the Nightingale, "be happy; you shall have your red +rose. I 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 sweet as honey, and +his breath is like frankincense." + + [Illustration: HIS LIPS ARE SWEET AS HONEY] + +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. + +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. + +"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall feel very lonely when +you are gone." + +So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice was like water +bubbling from a silver jar. + +When she had finished her song, the Student got up, and pulled a +note-book and a lead-pencil out of his pocket. + +"She has form," he said to himself, as he walked away through the +grove--"that cannot be denied to her; but has she got feeling? +I 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. + +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. + +She sang first of the birth of love in the 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--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. + +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." + +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. + +And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like the +flush in the face of 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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +And at noon the Student opened his window and looked out. + +"Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!" he cried; "here is a red rose! +I 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 it. + +Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professor's house with the +rose in his hand. + +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. + +"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." + +But the girl frowned. "I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she +answered; "and, besides, the Chamberlain's nephew has sent me some real +jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far more than flowers." + +"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 it. + +"Ungrateful!" said the girl. "I tell you what, you are very rude; and, +after all, who are you? Only a Student. Why, I 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. + +"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, I shall go back to +Philosophy and study Metaphysics." + +So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and began +to read. + + + * * * * * + + +THE SELFISH GIANT + + +Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to +go and play in the Giant's garden. + +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, 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. + +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. + +"What are you doing here?" he cried in a very gruff voice, and the +children ran away. + +"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. + + TRESPASSERS + WILL BE + PROSECUTED + +He was a very selfish Giant. + +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. + +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 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. + +"I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming," said the +Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white +garden; "I hope there will be a change in the weather." + +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. + +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, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open +casement. "I believe the Spring has come at last," said the Giant; +and he jumped out of bed and looked out. + +What did he see? + +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. + + [Illustration: IN EVERY TREE HE COULD SEE THERE WAS A LITTLE CHILD] + +He was so small that he could not reach up to 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. + +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 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. + +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 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. + +All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to +bid him good-bye. + +"But where is your little companion?" he said: "the boy I put into the +tree." The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him. + +"We don't know," answered the children; "he has gone away." + +"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. + +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. + +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 the +children at their games, and admired his garden. "I have many beautiful +flowers," he said; "but the children are the most beautiful flowers of +all." + +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. + +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. + + [Illustration: THE LITTLE BOY HE HAD LOVED] + +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 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. + +"Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the Giant; "tell me, that I might +take my big sword and slay him." + +"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the wounds of Love." + +"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he +knelt before the little child. + +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." + +And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying +dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms. + + + * * * * * + + +THE DEVOTED FRIEND + + +One 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. + +"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. + +"What disobedient children!" cried the old Water-rat; "they really +deserve to be drowned." + +"Nothing of the kind," answered the Duck, "every one must make a +beginning, and parents cannot be too patient." + +"Ah! I know nothing about the feelings of parents," said the Water-rat; +"I am not a family man. In fact, I 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 know of nothing in the world that is either nobler or +rarer than a devoted friendship." + +"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. + +"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. + +"What a silly question!" cried the Water-rat. "I should expect my +devoted friend to be devoted to me, of course." + +"And what would you do in return?" said the little bird, swinging upon a +silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings. + +"I don't understand you," answered the Water-rat. + +"Let me tell you a story on the subject," said the Linnet. + +"Is the story about me?" asked the Water-rat. "If so, I will listen to +it, for I am extremely fond of fiction." + +"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. + +"Once upon a time," said the Linnet, "there was an honest little fellow +named Hans." + +"Was he very distinguished?" asked the Water-rat. + +"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 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. + + [Illustration: THE GREEN LINNET] + +"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. + +"'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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"'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.' + +"'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 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.' + +"'But could we not ask little Hans up 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.' + +"'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 certainly +will not allow Hans' nature to be spoiled. I 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 quite different things. Everybody can +see that.' + +"'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.' + +"'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." + +"Is that the end of the story?" asked the Water-rat. + +"Certainly not," answered the Linnet, "that is the beginning." + +"Then you are quite behind the age," said 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 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 like the Miller immensely. +I have all kinds of beautiful sentiments myself, so there is a great +sympathy between us." + +"Well," said the Linnet, hopping now on one leg and now on the other, +"as soon as the winter was over, and the primroses began to open their +pale yellow stars, the Miller said to his wife that he would go down and +see little Hans. + +"'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.' + +"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. + +"'Good morning, little Hans,' said the Miller. + +"'Good morning,' said Hans, leaning on his spade, and smiling from ear +to ear. + +"'And how have you been all the winter?' said the Miller. + +"'Well, really,' cried Hans, 'it is very good of you to ask, very good +indeed. I 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.' + +"'We often talked of you during the winter, Hans,' said the Miller, 'and +wondered how you were getting on.' + +"'That was kind of you,' said Hans; 'I was half afraid you had +forgotten me.' + +"'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!' + +"'They are certainly very lovely,' said Hans, 'and it is a most lucky +thing for me that I have so many. I am going to bring them into the +market and sell them to the Burgomaster's daughter, and buy back my +wheelbarrow with the money.' + +"'Buy back your wheelbarrow? You don't mean to say you have sold it? +What a very stupid thing to do!' + +"'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.' + +"'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 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 think that generosity is the essence of friendship, and, +besides, I have got a new wheelbarrow for myself. Yes, you may set your +mind at ease, I will give you my wheelbarrow.' + +"'Well, really, that is generous of you,' said little Hans, and his +funny round face glowed all over with pleasure. 'I can easily put it in +repair, as I have a plank of wood in the house.' + +"'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 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.' + +"'Certainly,' cried little Hans, and he ran into the shed and dragged +the plank out. + +"'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 am sure you would like to +give me some flowers in return. Here is the basket, and mind you fill it +quite full.' + +"'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. + +"'Well, really,' answered the Miller, 'as I have given you my +wheelbarrow, I don't think that it is much to ask you for a few flowers. +I may be wrong, but I should have thought that friendship, true +friendship, was quite free from selfishness of any kind.' + +"'My dear friend, my best friend,' cried little Hans, 'you are welcome +to all the flowers in my garden. I 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. + +"'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. + +"'Good-bye,' said little Hans, and he began to dig away quite merrily, +he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow. + +"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. + +"There was the Miller with a large sack of flour on his back. + +"'Dear little Hans,' said the Miller, 'would you mind carrying this sack +of flour for me to market?' + +"'Oh, I am so sorry,' said Hans, 'but I am really very busy to-day. +I have got all my creepers to nail up, and all my flowers to water, +and all my grass to roll.' + +"'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.' + +"'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. + +"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 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. + +"'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.' + +"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. + +"'Upon my word,' said the Miller, 'you are very lazy. Really, +considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, I think you +might work harder. Idleness is a great 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.' + +"'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?' + +"'Well, I am glad of that,' said the Miller, clapping little Hans on the +back, 'for I want you to come up to the mill as soon as you are dressed +and mend my barn-roof for me.' + +"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. + +"'Do you think it would be unfriendly of me if I said I was busy?' he +inquired in a shy and timid voice. + +"'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.' + +"'Oh! on no account,' cried little Hans; and he jumped out of bed, +and dressed himself, and went up to the barn. + +"He worked there all day long, till sunset, and at sunset the Miller +came to see how he was getting on. + + [Illustration: HANS IN HIS GARDEN] + +"'Have you mended the hole in the roof yet, little Hans?' cried the +Miller in a cheery voice. + +"'It is quite mended,' answered little Hans, coming down the ladder. + +"'Ah!' said the Miller, 'there is no work so delightful as the work one +does for others.' + +"'It is certainly a great privilege to hear you talk,' answered little +Hans, sitting down and wiping his forehead, 'a very great privilege. +But I am afraid I shall never have such beautiful ideas as you have.' + +"'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.' + +"'Do you really think I shall?' asked little Hans. + +"'I have no doubt of it,' answered the Miller, 'but now that you have +mended the roof, you had better go home and rest, for I want you to +drive my sheep to the mountain to-morrow.' + +"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. + +"'What a delightful time I shall have in my garden!' he said, and he +went to work at once. + +"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 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.' + +"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. + +"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. + +"'It is some poor traveller,' said little Hans to himself, and he ran to +the door. + +"There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big stick in +the other. + +"'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.' + +"'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.' + +"'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 it.' + +"'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. + +"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. + +"'Who is there?' cried the Doctor, putting his head out of his bedroom +window. + +"'Little Hans, Doctor.' + +"'What do you want, little Hans?' + +"'The Miller's son has fallen from a ladder, and has hurt himself, +and the Miller wants you to come at once.' + +"'All right!' said the Doctor; and he ordered his horse, and his big +boots, and his lantern, and came downstairs, and rode off in the +direction of the Miller's house, little Hans trudging behind him. + +"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. + +"Everybody went to little Hans' funeral, as he was so popular, and the +Miller was the chief mourner. + +"'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 and then he wiped his eyes with a +big pocket-handkerchief. + +"'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. + +"'A great loss to me at any rate,' answered the Miller, 'why, I 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 will certainly take +care not to give away anything again. One always suffers for being +generous.'" + +"Well?" said the Water-rat, after a long pause. + +"Well, that is the end," said the Linnet. + +"But what became of the Miller?" asked the Water-rat. + +"Oh! I really don't know," replied the Linnet; "and I am sure that I +don't care." + +"It is quite evident then that you have no sympathy in your nature," +said the Water-rat. + +"I am afraid you don't quite see the moral of the story," remarked the +Linnet. + +"The what?" screamed the Water-rat. + +"The moral." + +"Do you mean to say that the story has a moral?" + +"Certainly," said the Linnet. + +"Well, really," said the Water-rat, in a very angry manner, "I think you +should have told me that before you began. If you had done so, +I certainly would not have listened to you; in fact, I should have said +'Pooh,' like the critic. However, I 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. + +"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." + +"I am rather afraid that I have annoyed him," answered the Linnet. +"The fact is, that I told him a story with a moral." + +"Ah! that is always a very dangerous thing to do," said the Duck. + +And I quite agree with her. + + + * * * * * + + +THE REMARKABLE ROCKET + + +The 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 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. + +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. + +"Your picture was beautiful," he murmured, "but you are more beautiful +than your picture;" and the little Princess blushed. + +"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. + + [Illustration: THE RUSSIAN PRINCESS] + +For the next three days everybody went 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. + +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. + +"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. + +"What an honour!" cried all the courtiers. + +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!" + +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. + +"What are fireworks like?" she had asked the Prince, one morning, as she +was walking on the terrace. + +"They are like the Aurora Borealis," said the King, who always answered +questions that were addressed to other people, "only much more natural. +I 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." + +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. + +"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 am very glad I have travelled. Travel improves the +mind wonderfully, and does away with all one's prejudices." + +"The King's garden is not the world, you foolish Squib," said a big +Roman Candle; "the world is an enormous place, and it would take you +three days to see it thoroughly." + +"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 remember myself once---- But it is no matter now. Romance is a thing +of the past." + +"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 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." + +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. + +Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard, and they all looked round. + +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. + +"Ahem! ahem!" he said, and everybody listened except the poor Catherine +Wheel, who was still shaking her head, and murmuring, "Romance is dead." + +"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. + +"Quite dead," whispered the Catherine Wheel, and she went off to sleep. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"It may be so with you," he answered; "indeed, I have no doubt that it +is, but with me it is different. I 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." + +"Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean," said a Bengal Light; "I know it is +Pyrotechnic, for I saw it written on my own canister." + +"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. + +"I was saying," continued the Rocket, "I was saying---- What was I +saying?" + +"You were talking about yourself," replied the Roman Candle. + +"Of course; I knew I was discussing some interesting subject when I was +so rudely interrupted. I 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 am quite sure of that." + +"What is a sensitive person?" said the Cracker to the Roman Candle. + +"A person who, because he has corns himself, always treads on other +people's toes," answered the Roman Candle in a low whisper; and the +Cracker nearly exploded with laughter. + +"Pray, what are you laughing at?" inquired the Rocket; "I am not +laughing." + +"I am laughing because I am happy," replied the Cracker. + +"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 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 know he would not get over it. Really, when I begin to reflect on the +importance of my position, I am almost moved to tears." + +"If you want to give pleasure to others," cried the Roman Candle, +"you had better keep yourself dry." + +"Certainly," exclaimed the Bengal Light, who was now in better spirits; +"that is only common sense." + +"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 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 don't care. The only thing that sustains one 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." + +"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." + +"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 son, a 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 shall +never get over it." + +"But they have not lost their only son," said the Roman Candle; +"no misfortune has happened to them at all." + +"I never said that they had," replied the Rocket; "I said that they +might. If they had lost their only son there would be no use in saying +anything more about the matter. I hate people who cry over spilt milk. +But when I think that they might lose their only son, I certainly am +much affected." + +"You certainly are!" cried the Bengal Light. "In fact, you are the most +affected person I ever met." + +"You are the rudest person I ever met," said the Rocket, "and you cannot +understand my friendship for the Prince." + +"Why, you don't even know him," growled the Roman Candle. + +"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." + +"You had really better keep yourself dry," said the Fire-balloon. "That +is the important thing." + +"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, and were +looking for a nice dry spot to live in. + +"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. + +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. + +Then the moon rose like a wonderful silver shield; and the stars began +to shine, and a sound of music came from the palace. + +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. + +Then ten o'clock struck, and then eleven, 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. + +"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. + +It was certainly a magnificent display. + +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 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. + +"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. + + [Illustration: "LET THE FIREWORKS BEGIN," SAID THE KING] + +The next day the workmen came to put everything tidy. "This is evidently +a deputation," said the Rocket; "I 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 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. + +"BAD Rocket? BAD Rocket?" he said, as he whirled through the air; +"impossible! GRAND Rocket, that is what the man said. BAD and GRAND +sound very much the same, indeed they often are the same;" and he fell +into the mud. + +"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." + +Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled coat, +swam up to him. + +"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 quite happy. Do +you think it will be a wet afternoon? I am sure I hope so, but the sky +is quite blue and cloudless. What a pity!" + +"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket, and he began to cough. + +"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." + +"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket angrily. He was very much annoyed that he +could not get a word in. + +"A delightful voice, certainly," continued the Frog; "I hope you will +come over to the duck-pond. I am off to look for my daughters. I 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 have enjoyed our conversation very much, +I assure you." + +"Conversation, indeed!" said the Rocket. "You have talked the whole time +yourself. That is not conversation." + +"Somebody must listen," answered the Frog, "and I like to do all the +talking myself. It saves time, and prevents arguments." + +"But I like arguments," said the Rocket. + +"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 see my daughters in the distance;" and the +little Frog swam away. + +"You are a very irritating person," said the Rocket, "and very ill-bred. +I 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 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." + +"There is no good talking to him," said a dragon-fly, who was sitting on +the top of a large brown bulrush; "no good at all, for he has gone +away." + +"Well, that is his loss, not mine," answered the Rocket. "I am not going +to stop talking to him merely because he pays no attention. I like +hearing myself talk. It is one of my greatest pleasures. I 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." + +"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. + +"How very silly of him not to stay here!" said the Rocket. "I am sure +that he has not often got such a chance of improving his mind. However, +I 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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"It is quite evident that you have always lived in the country," +answered the Rocket, "otherwise you would know who I am. However, +I 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." + +"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 sheep like the collie-dog, +that would be something." + +"My good creature," cried the Rocket in a very haughty tone of voice, +"I see that you belong to the lower orders. A person of my position is +never useful. We have certain accomplishments, and that is more than +sufficient. I have no sympathy myself with industry of any kind, least +of all with such industries as you seem to recommend. Indeed, I have +always been of opinion that hard work is simply the refuge of people who +have nothing whatever to do." + +"Well, well," said the Duck, who was of a very peaceable disposition, +and never quarrelled with any one, "everybody has different tastes. +I hope, at any rate, that you are going to take up your residence here." + +"Oh! dear no," cried the Rocket. "I am merely a visitor, a distinguished +visitor. The fact is that I find this place rather tedious. There is +neither society here, nor solitude. In fact, it is essentially suburban. +I shall probably go back to Court, for I know that I am destined to make +a sensation in the world." + +"I had thoughts of entering public life once myself," remarked the Duck; +"there are so many things that need reforming. Indeed, I 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." + +"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 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." + +"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." + +"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 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. + +"This must be the deputation," said the Rocket, and he tried to look +very dignified. + +"Hallo!" cried one of the boys, "look at this old stick! I wonder how it +came here;" and he picked the Rocket out of the ditch. + +"OLD Stick!" said the Rocket, "impossible! GOLD Stick, that is what he +said. Gold Stick is very complimentary. In fact, he mistakes me for one +of the Court dignitaries!" + +"Let us put it into the fire!" said the other boy, "it will help to boil +the kettle." + +So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and lit +the fire. + +"This is magnificent," cried the Rocket, "they are going to let me off +in broad daylight, so that everyone can see me." + +"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. + +The Rocket was very damp, so he took a long time to burn. At last, +however, the fire caught him. + +"Now I am going off!" he cried, and he made himself very stiff and +straight. "I know I shall go much higher than the stars, much higher +than the moon, much higher than the sun. In fact, I shall go so high +that----" + +Fizz! Fizz! Fizz! and he went straight up into the air. + +"Delightful," he cried, "I shall go on like this for ever. What a +success I am!" + +But nobody saw him. + +Then he began to feel a curious tingling sensation all over him. + +"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 it. + +But nobody heard him, not even the two little boys, for they were sound +asleep. + +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. + +"Good heavens!" cried the Goose. "It is going to rain sticks;" and she +rushed into the water. + +"I knew I should create a great sensation," gasped the Rocket, and he +went out. + + + +PRINTED BY +HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD. +LONDON AND AYLESBURY. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +Errors Noted by Transcriber: + + "What a remarkable phenomenon," said the Professor of Ornithology + [_comma invisible_] + + all my flowers are doing well." [_" for ' in nested quote_] + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES*** + + +******* This file should be named 30120.txt or 30120.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/1/2/30120 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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