The Childrens Book of Christmas Stories | Page 4

were large
easy chairs, silken sofas, large tables full of picture-books, and full of
toys worth hundreds and hundreds of crowns--at least the children said
so. And the Fir-tree was stuck upright in a cask that was filled with
sand: but no one could see that it was a cask, for green cloth was hung
all around it, and it stood on a large gayly coloured carpet. Oh, how the
Tree quivered! What was to happen? The servants, as well as the young

ladies, decorated it. On one branch there hung little nets cut out of
coloured paper, and each net was filled with sugar-plums; and among
the other boughs gilded apples and walnuts were suspended, looking as
though they had grown there, and little blue and white tapers were
placed among the leaves. Dolls that looked for all the world like
men--the Tree had never beheld such before--were seen among the
foliage, and at the very top a large star of gold tinsel was fixed. It was
really splendid--beyond description splendid.
"This evening!" said they all; "how it will shine this evening!"
"Oh," thought the Tree, "if the evening were but come! If the tapers
were but lighted! And then I wonder what will happen! Perhaps the
other trees from the forest will come to look at me! Perhaps the
sparrows will beat against the window-panes! I wonder if I shall take
root here, and winter and summer stand covered with ornaments!"
He knew very much about the matter! but he was so impatient that for
sheer longing he got a pain in his back, and this with trees is the same
thing as a headache with us.
The candles were now lighted. What brightness! What splendour! The
Tree trembled so in every bough that one of the tapers set fire to the
foliage. It blazed up splendidly.
"Help! Help!" cried the young ladies, and they quickly put out the fire.
Now the Tree did not even dare tremble. What a state he was in! He
was so uneasy lest he should lose something of his splendour, that he
was quite bewildered amidst the glare and brightness; when suddenly
both folding-doors opened, and a troop of children rushed in as if they
would upset the Tree. The older persons followed quietly; the little
ones stood quite still. But it was only for a moment; then they shouted
so that the whole place reechoed with their rejoicing; they danced
round the tree, and one present after the other was pulled off.
"What are they about?" thought the Tree. "What is to happen now?"
And the lights burned down to the very branches, and as they burned

down they were put out, one after the other, and then the children had
permission to plunder the tree. So they fell upon it with such violence
that all its branches cracked; if it had not been fixed firmly in the cask,
it would certainly have tumbled down.
The children danced about with their beautiful playthings: no one
looked at the Tree except the old nurse, who peeped between the
branches; but it was only to see if there was a fig or an apple left that
had been forgotten.
"A story! a story!" cried the children, drawing a little fat man toward
the tree. He seated himself under it, and said: "Now we are in the shade,
and the Tree can listen, too. But I shall tell only one story. Now which
will you have: that about Ivedy-Avedy, or about Klumpy-Dumpy who
tumbled downstairs, and yet after all came to the throne and married the
princess?"
"Ivedy-Avedy!" cried some; "Klumpy-Dumpy" cried the others. There
was such a bawling and screaming--the Fir-tree alone was silent, and he
thought to himself, "Am I not to bawl with the rest?--am I to do nothing
whatever?" for he was one of the company, and had done what he had
to do.
And the man told about Klumpy-Dumpy that tumbled down, who
notwithstanding came to the throne, and at last married the princess.
And the children clapped their hands, and cried out, "Oh, go on! Do go
on!" They wanted to hear about Ivedy-Avedy, too, but the little man
only told them about Klumpy-Dumpy. The Fir-tree stood quite still and
absorbed in thought; the birds in the woods had never related the like of
this. "Klumpy-Dumpy fell downstairs, and yet he married the princess!
Yes! Yes! that's the way of the world!" thought the Fir-tree, and
believed it all, because the man who told the story was so good-looking.
"Well, well! who knows, perhaps I may fall downstairs, too, and get a
princess as wife!" And he looked forward with joy to the morrow,
when he hoped to be decked out again with lights, playthings, fruits,
and tinsel.
"I won't