thedryadfeltaterrorlikeawomanwhohascutasunderherpulse-arteryinthebath,butisfilledagainwiththeloveoflife,evenwhilesheisbleedingtodeath.sheraisedherself,totteredforwardafewsteps,andsankdownagainattheentrancetoalittlechurch.thegatestoodopen,lightswereburninguponthealtar,andtheorgansounded.

whatmusic!suchnotesthedryadhadneveryetheard;andyetitseemedtoherasifsherecognizedanumberofwell-knownvoicesamongthem.theycamedeepfromtheheartofallcreation.shethoughtsheheardthestoriesoftheoldclergyman,ofgreatdeeds,andofthecelebratednames,andofthegiftsthatthecreaturesofgodmustbestowuponposterity,iftheywouldliveonintheworld.

thetonesoftheorganswelled,andintheirsongtheresoundedthesewords:

"thywishingandthylonginghavetornthee,withthyroots,fromtheplacewhichgodappointedforthee.thatwasthydestruction,thoupoordryad!"

thenotesbecamesoftandgentle,andseemedtodieawayinawail.

intheskythecloudsshowedthemselveswitharuddygleam.thewindsighed:

"passaway,yedead!nowthesunisgoingtorise!"

thefirstrayfellonthedryad.herformwasirradiatedinchangingcolors,likethesoap-bubblewhenitisburstingandbecomesadropofwater;likeatearthatfallsandpassesawaylikeavapor.

poordryad!onlyadew-drop,onlyatear,pouredupontheearth,andvanishedaway!

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

thedumbbook

byhanschristianandersen

inthehigh-roadwhichledthroughawoodstoodasolitaryfarm-house;theroad,infact,ranrightthroughitsyard.thesunwasshiningandallthewindowswereopen;withinthehousepeoplewereverybusy.intheyard,inanarbourformedbylilacbushesinfullbloom,stoodanopencoffin;thithertheyhadcarriedadeadman,whowastobeburiedthatveryafternoon.nobodyshedatearoverhim;hisfacewascoveredoverwithawhitecloth,underhisheadtheyhadplacedalargethickbook,theleavesofwhichconsistedoffoldedsheetsofblotting-paper,andwitheredflowerslaybetweenthem;itwastheherbariumwhichhehadgatheredinvariousplacesandwastobeburiedwithhim,accordingtohisownwish.everyoneoftheflowersinitwasconnectedwithsomechapterofhislife.

"whoisthedeadman?"weasked.

"theoldstudent,"wasthereply."theysaythathewasonceanenergeticyoungman,thathestudiedthedeadlanguages,andsangandevencomposedmanysongs;thensomethinghadhappenedtohim,andinconsequenceofthishegavehimselfuptodrink,bodyandatlasthehadruinedhishealth,theybroughthimintothecountry,wheresomeonepaidforhisboardandresidence.hewasgentleasachildaslongasthesullenmooddidnotcomeoverhim;butwhenitcamehewasfierce,becameasstrongasagiant,andranaboutinthewoodlikeachaseddeer.butwhenwesucceededinbringinghimhome,andprevaileduponhimtoopenthebookwiththedried-upplantsinit,hewouldsometimessitforawholedaylookingatthisorthatplant,whilefrequentlythetearsrolledoverhisdknowswhatwasinhismind;butherequestedustoputthebookintohiscoffin,andnowheliesthere.inalittlewhilethelidwillbeplaceduponthecoffin,andhewillhavesweetrestinthegrave!"

theclothwhichcoveredhisfacewasliftedup;thedeadman'sfaceexpressedpeace-asunbeamfelluponit.aswallowflewwiththeswiftnessofanarrowintothearbour,turninginitsflight,andtwitteredoverthedeadman'shead.

whatastrangefeelingitis-surelyweallknowit-tolookthrougholdlettersofouryoungdays;adifferentliferisesupoutofthepast,asitwere,withallitshopesandsorrows.howmanyofthepeoplewithwhominthosedaysweusedtobeonintimatetermsappeartousasifdead,andyettheyarestillalive-onlywehavenotthoughtofthemforsuchalongtime,whomweimaginedweshouldretaininourmemoriesforever,andshareeveryjoyandsorrowwiththem.

thewitheredoakleafinthebookhererecalledthefriend,theschoolfellow,whowastobehisfriendforlife.hefixedtheleaftothestudent'scapinthegreenwood,whentheyvowedeternalfriendship.wheredoeshedwellnow?