tremble to-morrow," thought the Fir-tree. "I will enjoy to the
full all my splendour. To-morrow I shall hear again the story of
Klumpy-Dumpy, and perhaps that of Ivedy-Avedy, too." And the
whole night the Tree stood still and in deep thought.
In the morning the servant and the housemaid came in.
"Now, then, the splendour will begin again," thought the Fir. But they
dragged him out of the room, and up the stairs into the loft; and here in
a dark corner, where no daylight could enter, they left him. "What's the
meaning of this?" thought the Tree. "What am I to do here? What shall
I hear now, I wonder?" And he leaned against the wall, lost in reverie.
Time enough had he, too, for his reflections; for days and nights passed
on, and nobody came up; and when at last somebody did come, it was
only to put some great trunks in a corner out of the way. There stood
the Tree quite hidden; it seemed as if he had been entirely forgotten.
"'Tis now winter out of doors!" thought the Tree. "The earth is hard and
covered with snow; men cannot plant me now, and therefore I have
been put up here under shelter till the springtime comes! How
thoughtful that is! How kind man is, after all! If it only were not so
dark here, and so terribly lonely! Not even a hare. And out in the woods
it was so pleasant, when the snow was on the ground, and the hare
leaped by; yes--even when he jumped over me; but I did not like it then.
It is really terribly lonely here!"
"Squeak! squeak!" said a little Mouse at the same moment, peeping out
of his hole. And then another little one came. They sniffed about the
Fir-tree, and rustled among the branches.
"It is dreadfully cold," said the Mouse. "But for that, it would be
delightful here, old Fir, wouldn't it?"
"I am by no means old," said the Fir-tree. "There's many a one
considerably older than I am."
"Where do you come from," asked the Mice; "and what can you do?"
They were so extremely curious. "Tell us about the most beautiful spot
on the earth. Have you never been there? Were you never in the larder,
where cheeses lie on the shelves, and hams hang from above; where
one dances about on tallow-candles; that place where one enters lean,
and comes out again fat and portly?"
"I know no such place," said the Tree, "but I know the woods, where
the sun shines, and where the little birds sing." And then he told all
about his youth; and the little Mice had never heard the like before; and
they listened and said:
"Well, to be sure! How much you have seen! How happy you must
have been!"
"I?" said the Fir-tree, thinking over what he had himself related. "Yes,
in reality those were happy times." And then he told about Christmas
Eve, when he was decked out with cakes and candles.
"Oh," said the little Mice, "how fortunate you have been, old Fir-tree!"
"I am by no means old," said he. "I came from the woods this winter; I
am in my prime, and am only rather short for my age."
"What delightful stories you know!" said the Mice: and the next night
they came with four other little Mice, who were to hear what the tree
recounted; and the more he related, the more plainly he remembered all
himself; and it appeared as if those times had really been happy times.
"But they may still come--they may still come. Klumpy-Dumpy fell
downstairs and yet he got a princess," and he thought at the moment of
a nice little Birch-tree growing out in the woods; to the Fir, that would
be a real charming princess.
"Who is Klumpy-Dumpy?" asked the Mice. So then the Fir-tree told
the whole fairy tale, for he could remember every single word of it; and
the little Mice jumped for joy up to the very top of the Tree. Next night
two more Mice came, and on Sunday two Rats, even; but they said the
stories were not interesting, which vexed the little Mice; and they, too,
now began to think them not so very amusing either.
"Do you know only one story?" asked the Rats.
"Only that one," answered the Tree. "I heard it on my happiest evening;
but I did not then know how happy I was."
"It is a very stupid story. Don't you know one about bacon and tallow
candles? Can't you tell any larder stories?"
"No," said the Tree.
"Then good-bye," said the Rats; and they went home.
At last the little Mice stayed away also; and the Tree sighed: "After all,
it was very
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