nodoubtishallstillgoforward.ihavealwaysprogressedhitherto,asiknowquitewell."

nowithappenedonedaythatallthepaperinthetubwastakenout,andlaidonthehearthtobeburnt.peoplesaiditcouldnotbesoldattheshop,towrapupbutterandsugar,becauseithadbeenwrittenupon.thechildreninthehousestoodroundthestove;fortheywantedtoseethepaperburn,becauseitflamedupsoprettily,andafterwards,amongtheashes,somanyredsparkscouldbeseenrunningoneaftertheother,hereandthere,asquickastheycalleditseeingthechildrencomeoutofschool,andthelastsparkwastheschoolmaster.theyoftenthoughtthelastsparkhadcome;andonewouldcry,"theregoestheschoolmaster;"butthenextmomentanothersparkwouldappear,shiningsobeautifully.howtheywouldliketoknowwherethesparksallwentto!perhapsweshallfindoutsomeday,butwedon'tknownow.

thewholebundleofpaperhadbeenplacedonthefire,andwassoonalight."ugh,"criedthepaper,asitburstintoabrightflame;"ugh."itwascertainlynotverypleasanttobeburning;butwhenthewholewaswrappedinflames,theflamesmountedupintotheair,higherthantheflaxhadeverbeenabletoraiseitslittleblueflower,andtheyglistenedasthewhitelinennevercouldhaveglistened.allthewrittenlettersbecamequiteredinamoment,andallthewordsandthoughtsturnedtofire.

"nowiammountingstraightuptothesun,"saidavoiceintheflames;anditwasasifathousandvoicesechoedthewords;andtheflamesdartedupthroughthechimney,andwentoutatthetop.thenanumberoftinybeings,asmanyinnumberastheflowersontheflaxhadbeen,andinvisibletomortaleyes,floatedaboveywereevenlighterandmoredelicatethantheflowersfromwhichtheywereborn;andastheflameswereextinguished,andnothingremainedofthepaperbutblackashes,theselittlebeingsdanceduponit;andwhenevertheytouchedit,brightredsparksappeared.

"thechildrenarealloutofschool,andtheschoolmasterwasthelastofall,"saidthechildren.itwasgoodfun,andtheysangoverthedeadashes,-

"snip,snap,snurre,

basselure:

thesongisended."

butthelittleinvisiblebeingssaid,"thesongisneverended;themostbeautifulisyettocome."

butthechildrencouldneitherhearnorunderstandthis,norshouldthey;forchildrenmustnotknoweverything.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

theflyingtrunk

byhanschristianandersen

therewasonceamerchantwhowassorichthathecouldhavepavedthewholestreetwithgold,andwouldeventhenhavehadenoughforasmallalley.buthedidnotdoso;heknewthevalueofmoneybetterthantouseitinthisway.socleverwashe,thateveryshillingheputoutbroughthimacrown;andsohecontinuedtillhedied.hissoninheritedhiswealth,andhelivedamerrylifewithit;hewenttoamasqueradeeverynight,madekitesoutoffivepoundnotes,andthrewpiecesofgoldintotheseainsteadofstones,makingducksanddrakesofthem.inthismannerhesoonlostallhismoney.atlasthehadnothingleftbutapairofslippers,anolddressing-gown,andfourshillings.andnowallhisfriendsdesertedhim,theycouldnotwalkwithhiminthestreets;butoneofthem,whowasverygood-natured,senthimanoldtrunkwiththismessage,"packup!""yes,"hesaid,"itisallverywelltosay'packup,'"buthehadnothinglefttopackup,thereforeheseatedhimselfinthewasaverywonderfultrunk;nosoonerdidanyonepressonthelockthanthetrunkcouldfly.heshutthelidandpressedthelock,whenawayflewthetrunkupthechimneywiththemerchant'ssoninit,rightupintotheclouds.wheneverthebottomofthetrunkcracked,hewasinagreatfright,forifthetrunkfelltopieceshewouldhavemadeatremendoussomersetoverthetrees.however,hegotsafelyinhistrunktothelandofturkey.hehidthetrunkinthewoodundersomedryleaves,andthenwentintothetown:hecouldsothisverywell,fortheturksalwaysgoaboutdressedindressing-gownsandslippers,ashewashimself.hehappenedtomeetanursewithalittlechild."isay,youturkishnurse,"criedhe,"whatcastleisthatnearthetown,withthewindowsplacedsohigh?"