icannotcomein,forimustdance."

andtheexecutionersaid:"idon'tsupposeyouknowwhoiam.istrikeofftheheadsofthewicked,andinoticethatmyaxeistinglingtodoso."

"don'tcutoffmyhead!"saidkaren,"forthenicouldnotrepentofmysin.butcutoffmyfeetwiththeredshoes."

andthensheconfessedallhersin,andtheexecutionerstruckoffherfeetwiththeredshoes;buttheshoesdancedawaywiththelittlefeetacrossthefieldintothedeepforest.

andhecarvedherapairofwoodenfeetandsomecrutches,andtaughtherapsalmwhichisalwayssungbysinners;shekissedthehandthatguidedtheaxe,andwentawayovertheheath.

"now,ihavesufferedenoughfortheredshoes,"shesaid;"iwillgotochurch,sothatpeoplecanseeme."andshewentquicklyuptothechurch-door;butwhenshecamethere,theredshoesweredancingbeforeher,andshewasfrightened,andturnedback.

duringthewholeweekshewassadandweptmanybittertears,butwhensundaycameagainshesaid:"nowihavesufferedandstrivenenough.ibelieveiamquiteasgoodasmanyofthosewhositinchurchandgivethemselvesairs."andsoshewentboldlyon;butshehadnotgotfartherthanthechurchyardgatewhenshesawtheredshoesdancingalongbeforeher.thenshebecameterrified,andturnedbackandrepentedrightheartilyofhersin.

shewenttotheparsonage,andbeggedthatshemightbetakenintoservicethere.shewouldbeindustrious,shesaid,anddoeverythingthatshecould;shedidnotmindaboutthewagesaslongasshehadaroofoverher,andwaswithgoodpeople.thepastor'swifehadpityonher,andtookherintoservice.andshewasindustriousandthoughtful.shesatquietandlistenedwhenthepastorreadaloudfromthebibleintheevening.allthechildrenlikedherverymuch,butwhentheyspokeaboutdressandgrandeurandbeautyshewouldshakeherhead.

onthefollowingsundaytheyallwenttochurch,andshewasaskedwhethershewishedtogotoo;but,withtearsinhereyes,shelookedsadlyathercrutches.andthentheotherswenttoheargod'sword,butshewentaloneintoherlittleroom;thiswasonlylargeenoughtoholdthebedandachair.hereshesatdownwithherhymn-book,andasshewasreadingitwithapiousmind,thewindcarriedthenotesoftheorganovertoherfromthechurch,andintearssheliftedupherfaceandsaid:"ogod!helpme!"

thenthesunshonesobrightly,andrightbeforeherstoodanangelofgodinwhiterobes;itwasthesameonewhomshehadseenthatnightatthechurch-door.henolongercarriedthesharpsword,butabeautifulgreenbranch,fullofroses;withthishetouchedtheceiling,whichroseupveryhigh,andwherehehadtoucheditthereshoneagoldenstar.hetouchedthewalls,whichopenedwideapart,andshesawtheorganwhichwaspealingforth;shesawthepicturesoftheoldpastorsandtheirwives,andthecongregationsittinginthepolishedchairsandsingingfromtheirhymn-churchitselfhadcometothepoorgirlinhernarrowroom,ortheroomhadgonetothechurch.shesatinthepewwiththerestofthepastor'shousehold,andwhentheyhadfinishedthehymnandlookedup,theynoddedandsaid,"itwasrightofyoutocome,karen."

"itwasmercy,"saidshe.

theorganplayedandthechildren'svoicesinthechoirsoundedsoftandlovely.thebrightwarmsunshinestreamedthroughthewindowintothepewwherekarensat,andherheartbecamesofilledwithit,sofilledwithpeaceandjoy,thatitbroke.hersoulflewonthesunbeamstoheaven,andnoonewastherewhoaskedaftertheredshoes.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

thesaucyboy

byhanschristianandersen

onceuponatimetherewasanoldpoet,oneofthoserightgoodoldpoets.

oneevening,ashewassittingathome,therewasaterriblestormgoingonoutside;therainwaspouringdown,buttheoldpoetsatcomfortablyinhischimney-corner,wherethefirewasburningandtheappleswereroasting.

"therewillnotbeadrythreadleftonthepoorpeoplewhoareoutinthisweather,"hesaid.

"oh,openthedoor!