"dobereasonable,oldlamp,"saidthewind,puffingaway.

atthismomentthemoonburstforthfromtheclouds."whatwillyougivetheoldlamp?"askedthewind.

"icangivenothing,"shereplied;"iamonthewane,andnolampshaveevergivenmelightwhileihavefrequentlyshoneuponthem."andwiththesewordsthemoonhidherselfagainbehindtheclouds,thatshemightbesavedfromfurtherimportunities.justthenadropfelluponthelamp,fromtheroofofthehouse,butthedropexplainedthathewasagiftfromthosegrayclouds,andperhapsthebestofallgifts."ishallpenetrateyousothoroughly,"hesaid,"thatyouwillhavethepowerofbecomingrusty,and,ifyouwishit,tocrumbleintodustinonenight."

butthisseemedtothelampaveryshabbypresent,andthewindthoughtsotoo."doesnoonegiveanymore?willnoonegiveanymore?"shoutedthebreathofthewind,asloudasitcould.thenabrightfallingstarcamedown,leavingabroad,luminousstreakbehindit.

"whatwasthat?"criedtheherring'shead."didnotastarfall?ireallybelieveitwentintothelamp.certainly,whensuchhigh-bornpersonagestryfortheoffice,wemayaswellsay'good-night,'andgohome."

andsotheydid,allthree,whiletheoldlampthrewawonderfullystronglightallaroundhim.

"thisisagloriousgift,"saidhe;"thebrightstarshavealwaysbeenajoytome,andhavealwaysshonemorebrilliantlythanievercouldshine,thoughihavetriedwithmywholemight;andnowtheyhavenoticedme,apooroldlamp,andhavesentmeagiftthatwillenablemetoseeclearlyeverythingthatiremember,asifitstillstoodbeforeme,andtobeseenbyallthosewholoveme.andhereinliesthetruestpleasure,forjoywhichwecannotsharewithothersisonlyhalfenjoyed."

"thatsentimentdoesyouhonor,"saidthewind;"butforthispurposewaxlightswillbenecessary.ifthesearenotlightedinyou,yourparticularfacultieswillnotbenefitothersintheleast.thestarshavenotthoughtofthis;theysupposethatyouandeveryotherlightmustbeawaxtaper:butimustgodownnow."sohelaidhimselftorest.

"waxtapers,indeed!"saidthelamp,"ihaveneveryethadthese,norisitlikelyievershall.ificouldonlybesureofnotbeingmelteddown!"

thenextday.well,perhapswehadbetterpassoverthenextday.theeveninghadcome,andthelampwasrestinginagrandfather'schair,andguesswhere!why,attheoldwatchman'shouse.hehadbegged,asafavor,thatthemayorandcorporationwouldallowhimtokeepthestreetlamp,inconsiderationofhislongandfaithfulservice,ashehadhimselfhungitupandlititonthedayhefirstcommencedhisduties,four-and-twentyyearsago.helookeduponitalmostashisownchild;hehadnochildren,sothelampwasgiventohim.thereitlayinthegreatarm-chairneartothewarmstove.itseemedalmostasifithadgrownlarger,foritappearedquitetofillthechair.theoldpeoplesatattheirsupper,castingfriendlyglancesattheoldlamp,whomtheywouldwillinglyhaveadmittedtoaplaceatthetable.itisquitetruethattheydweltinacellar,twoyardsdeepintheearth,andtheyhadtocrossastonepassagetogettotheirroom,butwithinitwaswarmandcomfortableandstripsoflisthadbeennailedroundthedoor.thebedandthelittlewindowhadcurtains,andeverythinglookedcleanandneat.onthewindowseatstoodtwocuriousflower-potswhichasailor,namedchristian,hadbroughtoverfromtheeastorwestindies.theywereofclay,andintheformoftwoelephants,withopenbacks;theywerehollowandfilledwithearth,andthroughtheopenspaceflowersbloomed.inonegrewsomeveryfinechivesorleeks;thiswasthekitchengarden.theotherelephant,whichcontainedabeautifulgeranium,theycalledtheirflowergarden.onthewallhungalargecoloredprint,representingthecongressofvienna,andallthekingsandemperorsatonce.aclock,withheavyweights,hungonthewallandwent"tick,tick,"steadilyenough;yetitwasalwaysrathertoofast,which,however,theoldpeoplesaidwasbetterthanbeingtooslow.theywerenoweatingtheirsupper,whiletheoldstreetlamp,aswehaveheard,layinthegrandfather'sarm-chairnearthestove.itseemedtothelampasifthewholeworldhadturnedround;butafterawhiletheoldwatchmanlookedatthelamp,andspokeofwhattheyhadbothgonethroughtogether,-inrainandinfog;duringtheshortbrightnightsofsummer,orinthelongwinternights,throughthedriftingsnow-storms,whenhelongedtobeathomeinthecellar.thenthelampfeltitwasallrightagain.hesaweverythingthathadhappenedquiteclearly,asifitwerepassingbeforehim.surelythewindhadgivenhimanexcellentgift.theoldpeoplewereveryactiveandindustrious,theywereneveridleforevenasinglehour.onsundayafternoonstheywouldbringoutsomebooks,generallyabookoftravelswhichtheywereveryfondof.theoldmanwouldreadaloudaboutafrica,withitsgreatforestsandthewildelephants,whilehiswifewouldlistenattentively,stealingaglancenowandthenattheclayelephants,whichservedasflower-pots.

"icanalmostimagineiamseeingitall,"shesaid;andthenhowthelampwishedforawaxtapertobelightedinhim,forthentheoldwomanwouldhaveseenthesmallestdetailasclearlyashedidhimself.theloftytrees,withtheirthicklyentwinedbranches,thenakednegroesonhorseback,andwholeherdsofelephantstreadingdownbamboothicketswiththeirbroad,heavyfeet.

"whatistheuseofallmycapabilities,"sighedtheoldlamp,"whenicannotobtainanywaxlights;theyhaveonlyoilandtallowhere,andthesewillnotdo."onedayagreatheapofwax-candleendsfoundtheirwayintothecellar.thelargerpieceswereburnt,andthesmalleronestheoldwomankeptforwaxingherthread.sotherewerenowcandlesenough,butitneveroccurredtoanyonetoputalittlepieceinthelamp.

"hereiamnowwithmyrarepowers,"thoughtthelamp,"ihavefacultieswithinme,buticannotsharethem;theydonotknowthaticouldcoverthesewhitewallswithbeautifultapestry,orchangethemintonobleforests,or,indeed,toanythingelsetheymightwishfor."thelamp,however,wasalwayskeptcleanandshininginacornerwhereitattractedalleyes.strangerslookeduponitaslumber,buttheoldpeopledidnotcareforthat;theylovedtheday-itwasthewatchman'sbirthday-theoldwomanapproachedthelamp,smilingtoherself,andsaid,"iwillhaveanilluminationto-dayinhonorofmyoldman."andthelamprattledinhismetalframe,forhethought,"nowatlastishallhavealightwithinme,"butafterallnowaxlightwasplacedinthelamp,butoilaslampburnedthroughthewholeevening,andbegantoperceivetooclearlythatthegiftofthestarswouldremainahiddentreasureallhislife.thenhehadadream;for,toonewithhisfaculties,dreamingwasnodifficulty.itappearedtohimthattheoldpeopleweredead,andthathehadbeentakentotheironfoundrytobemelteddown.itcausedhimquiteasmuchanxietyasonthedaywhenhehadbeencalledupontoappearbeforethemayorandthecouncilatthetown-hall.butthoughhehadbeenendowedwiththepoweroffallingintodecayfromrustwhenhepleased,hedidnotmakeuseofit.hewasthereforeputintothemelting-furnaceandchangedintoaselegantanironcandlestickasyoucouldwishtosee,oneintendedtoholdawaxtaper.thecandlestickwasintheformofanangelholdinganosegay,inthecentreofwhichthewaxtaperwastobeplaced.itwastostandonagreenwritingtable,inaverypleasantroom;manybookswerescatteredabout,andsplendidpaintingshungonthewalls.theowneroftheroomwasapoet,andamanofintellect;everythinghethoughtorwrotewaspicturedaroundhim.natureshowedherselftohimsometimesinthedarkforests,atothersincheerfulmeadowswherethestorkswerestruttingabout,oronthedeckofashipsailingacrossthefoamingseawiththeclear,blueskyabove,oratnighttheglitteringstars."whatpowersipossess!"