little Mice, at last, stayed away also; and then the Tree sighed, and said: "It was very nice when they sat around me, the merry little Mice, and listened to me; now that is past, too."

One morning, people came to the garret. Boxes were put away, and the Tree was brought out. A servant dragged it down stairs, where the daylight shone. "Now life is beginning again!" thought the

Tree.

It was taken out in the courtyard, and felt the fresh air. There was so much to look at that the Tree quite forgot to look at itself. Near by was a garden. The roses and the linden trees were in blossom. The swallows were calling out to their mates.

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Now, I shall live!" said the Tree, rejoicing; and it spread its branches far out, but, alas! they were all withered and yellow.

The Tree was thrown in the corner among the nettles and weeds.

Children who danced around the tree at Christmas were playing in the courtyard. One of the youngest ran up, and tore off the golden star. "Look at what is sticking to the ugly old Fir Tree!" said the child.

The Tree looked at all the blooming flowers and the beautiful garden, and then looked at itself, and

was sorry it had not remained in the dark corner of

the garret.

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"Everything has passed!" said the Tree. "I wish I had rejoiced when I might have done so."

A servant came, and chopped the tree into little pieces. He burned it, and, as it blazed brightly, it sighed, and each sigh was like a little shot; and the children who were at play there looked into the fire and cried, "Puff! puff!" The Tree thought of the summer day in the woods, or of a winter night when the stars shone, of Christmas Eve, of KlumpeyDumpey, the only story he had ever heard or knew how to tell; and then he was burned.

The boys played in the garden, and the youngest wore the golden star which the Fir Tree wore on its happiest evening; now that was past, and the Tree's life was past, and the story is past, too,—and that is the way with all stories.

THE UGLY DUCKLING

HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

T was glorious out in the country. It was sum

IT

mer, and the cornfields were yellow and the oats were green; the hay had been put up in stacks in the green meadows, and the stork went about on his long red legs, and chattered Egyptian, for this was

the language he had learned from his good mother. All around the fields and meadows were great forests, and in the midst of these forests were deep lakes. Yes, it was really glorious out in the country. In the midst of the sunshine there lay an old farm, surrounded by deep canals, and from the wall down to the water grew great burdocks, so high that little children could stand upright under the largest ones. It was just as wild there as in the deepest woods. Here sat a Duck upon her nest, for she had to hatch her young ones; but she was almost tired out before the little ones came; and then she hardly ever had visitors. The other ducks liked better to swim about in the canals than to run up and sit down under the burdock and cackle with her.

At last, one eggshell after another burst open. "Peep! peep!" they cried; and in all the eggs there were little creatures that stuck out their heads.

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Rap! rap!" they said; and they all came out as fast as they could, looking all around them under the green leaves; and the mother let them look as much as they chose, for green is good for the eyes.

"How wide the world is!" said the young ones, for they certainly had much more room now than when they were in the eggs.

"Do you think this is all the world?" asked the mother. "That extends far across the other side of

the garden, quite into the parson's field, but I have never been there yet. I hope you are all together," she continued, and stood up. "No, I have not all. The largest egg still lies there. last? I am really tired of it."

again.

How long is that to

And she sat down

"Well, how goes it?" asked an old Duck who had come to pay her a visit.

"It lasts a long time with that one egg," said the Duck who sat there. "It will not burst. Now, only look at the others; are they not the prettiest ducks one could possibly see? They are all like their father, the bad fellow never comes to see me."

"Let me see the egg which will not burst," said the old visitor. "Believe me, it is a turkey's egg. I was once cheated in that way, and had much anxiety and trouble with the young ones, for they were afraid of the water. I could not get them to venture in. I quacked and clucked, but it was of no use. Let me see the egg. Yes, that's a turkey's egg! Let it lie there, and you teach the other children to swim."

"I think I will sit on it a little longer," said the Duck. "I've sat so long now, that I can sit a few days more."

"Just as you please," said the old Duck; and she went away.

At last the great egg burst. "Peep! peep!" said

the little one, and crept forth. It was very large and very ugly. The Duck looked at it.

"It's a very large Duckling," said she; "none of the others look like that. Can it really be a turkey chick? Now we shall soon find out. It must go into the water, even if I have to push it in myself."

The next day the weather was splendid, and the sun shone on all the green trees. The Mother Duck went down to the water with all her little ones. Splash! she jumped into the water. "Quack! quack!" she said, and then one Duckling after another plunged in. The water closed over their heads, but they came up in an instant, and swam capitally; their legs went of themselves, and there they were, all in the water. The ugly gray Duckling swam with them.

"No, it's not a turkey," said she. "Look how well it can use its legs, and how erect it holds itself. It is my own child! On the whole it's quite pretty, if one looks at it rightly. Quack! quack! come with me, and I'll lead you out into the great world, and present you in the poultry yard; but keep close to me, so that no one may tread on you; and take care of the cats!

And so they came into the poultry yard. There was a terrible riot going on in there, for two families