CollegeTheMovie

http://www.youtube.com/v/GoH0tKHx_-Y&hl=zh_CN&fs=1

THE RED SHOES

THE RED SHOES

There was once a little girl who was very pretty and delicate, but in summershe was forced to run about with bare feet, she was so poor, and in winterwear very large wooden shoes, which made her little insteps quite red, andthat looked so dangerous!
In the middle of the village lived old Dame Shoemaker; she sat and sewedtogether, as well as she could, a little pair of shoes out of old red stripsof cloth; they were very clumsy, but it was a kind thought. They were meantfor the little girl. The little girl was called Karen.
On the very day her mother was buried, Karen received the red shoes, and worethem for the first time. They were certainly not intended for mourning, butshe had no others, and with stockingless feet she followed the poor strawcoffin in them.
Suddenly a large old carriage drove up, and a large old lady sat in it: shelooked at the little girl, felt compassion for her, and then said to theclergyman:
"Here, give me the little girl. I will adopt her!"
And Karen believed all this happened on account of the red shoes, but the oldlady thought they were horrible, and they were burnt. But Karen herself wascleanly and nicely dressed; she must learn to read and sew; and people saidshe was a nice little thing, but the looking-glass said: "Thou art more thannice, thou art beautiful!"
Now the queen once travelled through the land, and she had her little daughterwith her. And this little daughter was a princess, and people streamed to thecastle, and Karen was there also, and the little princess stood in her finewhite dress, in a window, and let herself be stared at; she had neither atrain nor a golden crown, but splendid red morocco shoes. They were certainlyfar handsomer than those Dame Shoemaker had made for little Karen. Nothing inthe world can be compared with red shoes.
Now Karen was old enough to be confirmed; she had new clothes and was to havenew shoes also. The rich shoemaker in the city took the measure of her littlefoot. This took place at his house, in his room; where stood largeglass-cases, filled with elegant shoes and brilliant boots. All this lookedcharming, but the old lady could not see well, and so had no pleasure in them.In the midst of the shoes stood a pair of red ones, just like those theprincess had worn. How beautiful they were! The shoemaker said also they hadbeen made for the child of a count, but had not fitted.
"That must be patent leather!" said the old lady. "They shine so!"
"Yes, they shine!" said Karen, and they fitted, and were bought, but the oldlady knew nothing about their being red, else she would never have allowedKaren to have gone in red shoes to be confirmed. Yet such was the case.
Everybody looked at her feet; and when she stepped through the chancel door onthe church pavement, it seemed to her as if the old figures on the tombs,those portraits of old preachers and preachers' wives, with stiff ruffs, andlong black dresses, fixed their eyes on her red shoes. And she thought only ofthem as the clergyman laid his hand upon her head, and spoke of the holybaptism, of the covenant with God, and how she should be now a maturedChristian; and the organ pealed so solemnly; the sweet children's voices sang,and the old music-directors sang, but Karen only thought of her red shoes.
In the afternoon, the old lady heard from everyone that the shoes had beenred, and she said that it was very wrong of Karen, that it was not at allbecoming, and that in future Karen should only go in black shoes to church,even when she should be older.
The next Sunday there was the sacrament, and Karen looked at the black shoes,looked at the red ones--looked at them again, and put on the red shoes.
The sun shone gloriously; Karen and the old lady walked along the path throughthe corn; it was rather dusty there.
At the church door stood an old soldier with a crutch, and with a wonderfullylong beard, which was more red than white, and he bowed to the ground, andasked the old lady whether he might dust her shoes. And Karen stretched outher little foot.
"See, what beautiful dancing shoes!" said the soldier. "Sit firm when youdance"; and he put his hand out towards the soles.
And the old lady gave the old soldier alms, and went into the church withKaren.
And all the people in the church looked at Karen's red shoes, and all thepictures, and as Karen knelt before the altar, and raised the cup to herlips, she only thought of the red shoes, and they seemed to swim in it; andshe forgot to sing her psalm, and she forgot to pray, "Our Father in Heaven!"
Now all the people went out of church, and the old lady got into her carriage.Karen raised her foot to get in after her, when the old soldier said,
"Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!"
And Karen could not help dancing a step or two, and when she began her feetcontinued to dance; it was just as though the shoes had power over them. Shedanced round the church corner, she could not leave off; the coachman wasobliged to run after and catch hold of her, and he lifted her in the carriage,but her feet continued to dance so that she trod on the old lady dreadfully.At length she took the shoes off, and then her legs had peace.
The shoes were placed in a closet at home, but Karen could not avoid lookingat them.
Now the old lady was sick, and it was said she could not recover. She must benursed and waited upon, and there was no one whose duty it was so much asKaren's. But there was a great ball in the city, to which Karen was invited.She looked at the old lady, who could not recover, she looked at the redshoes, and she thought there could be no sin in it; she put on the red shoes,she might do that also, she thought. But then she went to the ball and beganto dance.
When she wanted to dance to the right, the shoes would dance to the left, andwhen she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced back again, down thesteps, into the street, and out of the city gate. She danced, and was forcedto dance straight out into the gloomy wood.
Then it was suddenly light up among the trees, and she fancied it must be themoon, for there was a face; but it was the old soldier with the red beard; hesat there, nodded his head, and said, "Look, what beautiful dancing shoes!"
Then she was terrified, and wanted to fling off the red shoes, but they clungfast; and she pulled down her stockings, but the shoes seemed to have grown toher feet. And she danced, and must dance, over fields and meadows, in rain andsunshine, by night and day; but at night it was the most fearful.
She danced over the churchyard, but the dead did not dance--they hadsomething better to do than to dance. She wished to seat herself on a poorman's grave, where the bitter tansy grew; but for her there was neither peacenor rest; and when she danced towards the open church door, she saw an angelstanding there. He wore long, white garments; he had wings which reached fromhis shoulders to the earth; his countenance was severe and grave; and in hishand he held a sword, broad and glittering.
"Dance shalt thou!" said he. "Dance in thy red shoes till thou art pale andcold! Till thy skin shrivels up and thou art a skeleton! Dance shalt thou fromdoor to door, and where proud, vain children dwell, thou shalt knock, thatthey may hear thee and tremble! Dance shalt thou--!"
"Mercy!" cried Karen. But she did not hear the angel's reply, for the shoescarried her through the gate into the fields, across roads and bridges, andshe must keep ever dancing.
One morning she danced past a door which she well knew. Within sounded apsalm; a coffin, decked with flowers, was borne forth. Then she knew that theold lady was dead, and felt that she was abandoned by all, and condemned bythe angel of God.
She danced, and she was forced to dance through the gloomy night. The shoescarried her over stack and stone; she was torn till she bled; she danced overthe heath till she came to a little house. Here, she knew, dwelt theexecutioner; and she tapped with her fingers at the window, and said, "Comeout! Come out! I cannot come in, for I am forced to dance!"
And the executioner said, "Thou dost not know who I am, I fancy? I strike badpeople's heads off; and I hear that my axe rings!"
"Don't strike my head off!" said Karen. "Then I can't repent of my sins! Butstrike off my feet in the red shoes!"
And then she confessed her entire sin, and the executioner struck off her feetwith the red shoes, but the shoes danced away with the little feet across thefield into the deep wood.
And he carved out little wooden feet for her, and crutches, taught her thepsalm criminals always sing; and she kissed the hand which had wielded theaxe, and went over the heath.
"Now I have suffered enough for the red shoes!" said she. "Now I will go intothe church that people may see me!" And she hastened towards the church door:but when she was near it, the red shoes danced before her, and she wasterrified, and turned round. The whole week she was unhappy, and wept manybitter tears; but when Sunday returned, she said, "Well, now I have sufferedand struggled enough! I really believe I am as good as many a one who sits inthe church, and holds her head so high!"
And away she went boldly; but she had not got farther than the churchyard gatebefore she saw the red shoes dancing before her; and she was frightened, andturned back, and repented of her sin from her heart.
And she went to the parsonage, and begged that they would take her intoservice; she would be very industrious, she said, and would do everything shecould; she did not care about the wages, only she wished to have a home, andbe with good people. And the clergyman's wife was sorry for her and took herinto service; and she was industrious and thoughtful. She sat still andlistened when the clergyman read the Bible in the evenings. All the childrenthought a great deal of her; but when they spoke of dress, and grandeur, andbeauty, she shook her head.
The following Sunday, when the family was going to church, they asked herwhether she would not go with them; but she glanced sorrowfully, with tears inher eyes, at her crutches. The family went to hear the word of God; but shewent alone into her little chamber; there was only room for a bed and chair tostand in it; and here she sat down with her Prayer-Book; and whilst she readwith a pious mind, the wind bore the strains of the organ towards her, and sheraised her tearful countenance, and said, "O God, help me!"
And the sun shone so clearly, and straight before her stood the angel of Godin white garments, the same she had seen that night at the church door; but heno longer carried the sharp sword, but in its stead a splendid green spray,full of roses. And he touched the ceiling with the spray, and the ceiling roseso high, and where he had touched it there gleamed a golden star. And hetouched the walls, and they widened out, and she saw the organ which wasplaying; she saw the old pictures of the preachers and the preachers' wives.The congregation sat in cushioned seats, and sang out of their Prayer-Books.For the church itself had come to the poor girl in her narrow chamber, or elseshe had come into the church. She sat in the pew with the clergyman's family,and when they had ended the psalm and looked up, they nodded and said, "It isright that thou art come!"
"It was through mercy!" she said.
And the organ pealed, and the children's voices in the choir sounded so sweetand soft! The clear sunshine streamed so warmly through the window into thepew where Karen sat! Her heart was so full of sunshine, peace, and joy, thatit broke. Her soul flew on the sunshine to God, and there no one asked afterthe RED SHOES.

THE NAUGHTY BOY

THE NAUGHTY BOY

Along time ago, there lived an old poet, a thoroughly kind old poet. As he wassitting one evening in his room, a dreadful storm arose without, and the rainstreamed down from heaven; but the old poet sat warm and comfortable in hischimney-corner, where the fire blazed and the roasting apple hissed.
"Those who have not a roof over their heads will be wetted to the skin," saidthe good old poet.
"Oh let me in! Let me in! I am cold, and I'm so wet!" exclaimed suddenly achild that stood crying at the door and knocking for admittance, while therain poured down, and the wind made all the windows rattle.
"Poor thing!" said the old poet, as he went to open the door. There stood alittle boy, quite naked, and the water ran down from his long golden hair; hetrembled with cold, and had he not come into a warm room he would mostcertainly have perished in the frightful tempest.
"Poor child!" said the old poet, as he took the boy by the hand. "Come in,come in, and I will soon restore thee! Thou shalt have wine and roastedapples, for thou art verily a charming child!" And the boy was so really. Hiseyes were like two bright stars; and although the water trickled down hishair, it waved in beautiful curls. He looked exactly like a little angel, buthe was so pale, and his whole body trembled with cold. He had a nice littlebow in his hand, but it was quite spoiled by the rain, and the tints of hismany-colored arrows ran one into the other.
The old poet seated himself beside his hearth, and took the little fellow onhis lap; he squeezed the water out of his dripping hair, warmed his handsbetween his own, and boiled for him some sweet wine. Then the boy recovered,his cheeks again grew rosy, he jumped down from the lap where he was sitting,and danced round the kind old poet.
"You are a merry fellow," said the old man. "What's your name?"
"My name is Cupid," answered the boy. "Don't you know me? There lies my bow;it shoots well, I can assure you! Look, the weather is now clearing up, andthe moon is shining clear again through the window."
"Why, your bow is quite spoiled," said the old poet.
"That were sad indeed," said the boy, and he took the bow in his hand andexamined it on every side. "Oh, it is dry again, and is not hurt at all; thestring is quite tight. I will try it directly." And he bent his bow, took aim,and shot an arrow at the old poet, right into his heart. "You see now that mybow was not spoiled," said he laughing; and away he ran.
The naughty boy, to shoot the old poet in that way; he who had taken him intohis warm room, who had treated him so kindly, and who had given him warm wineand the very best apples!
The poor poet lay on the earth and wept, for the arrow had really flown intohis heart.
"Fie!" said he. "How naughty a boy Cupid is! I will tell all children abouthim, that they may take care and not play with him, for he will only causethem sorrow and many a heartache."
And all good children to whom he related this story, took great heed of thisnaughty Cupid; but he made fools of them still, for he is astonishinglycunning. When the university students come from the lectures, he runs besidethem in a black coat, and with a book under his arm. It is quite impossiblefor them to know him, and they walk along with him arm in arm, as if he, too,were a student like themselves; and then, unperceived, he thrusts an arrow totheir bosom. When the young maidens come from being examined by the clergyman,or go to church to be confirmed, there he is again close behind them. Yes, heis forever following people. At the play, he sits in the great chandelier andburns in bright flames, so that people think it is really a flame, but theysoon discover it is something else. He roves about in the garden of the palaceand upon the ramparts: yes, once he even shot your father and mother right inthe heart. Ask them only and you will hear what they'll tell you. Oh, he is anaughty boy, that Cupid; you must never have anything to do with him. He isforever running after everybody. Only think, he shot an arrow once at your oldgrandmother! But that is a long time ago, and it is all past now; however, athing of that sort she never forgets. Fie, naughty Cupid! But now you knowhim, and you know, too, how ill-behaved he is!

THE DREAM OF LITTLE TUK

THE DREAM OF LITTLE TUK

Ah! yes, that was little Tuk: in reality his name was not Tuk, but that waswhat he called himself before he could speak plain: he meant it for Charles,and it is all well enough if one does but know it. He had now to take care ofhis little sister Augusta, who was much younger than himself, and he was,besides, to learn his lesson at the same time; but these two things would notdo together at all. There sat the poor little fellow, with his sister on hislap, and he sang to her all the songs he knew; and he glanced the while fromtime to time into the geography-book that lay open before him. By the nextmorning he was to have learnt all the towns in Zealand by heart, and to knowabout them all that is possible to be known.
His mother now came home, for she had been out, and took little Augusta on herarm. Tuk ran quickly to the window, and read so eagerly that he pretty nearlyread his eyes out; for it got darker and darker, but his mother had no moneyto buy a candle.
"There goes the old washerwoman over the way," said his mother, as she lookedout of the window. "The poor woman can hardly drag herself along, and she mustnow drag the pail home from the fountain. Be a good boy, Tukey, and run acrossand help the old woman, won't you?"
So Tuk ran over quickly and helped her; but when he came back again into theroom it was quite dark, and as to a light, there was no thought of such athing. He was now to go to bed; that was an old turn-up bedstead; in it he layand thought about his geography lesson, and of Zealand, and of all that hismaster had told him. He ought, to be sure, to have read over his lesson again,but that, you know, he could not do. He therefore put his geography-book underhis pillow, because he had heard that was a very good thing to do when onewants to learn one's lesson; but one cannot, however, rely upon it entirely.Well, there he lay, and thought and thought, and all at once it was just as ifsomeone kissed his eyes and mouth: he slept, and yet he did not sleep; it wasas though the old washerwoman gazed on him with her mild eyes and said, "Itwere a great sin if you were not to know your lesson tomorrow morning. Youhave aided me, I therefore will now help you; and the loving God will do so atall times." And all of a sudden the book under Tuk's pillow began scraping andscratching.
"Kickery-ki! kluk! kluk! kluk!"--that was an old hen who came creeping along,and she was from Kjoge. "I am a Kjoger hen,"* said she, and then she relatedhow many inhabitants there were there, and about the battle that had takenplace, and which, after all, was hardly worth talking about.
* Kjoge, a town in the bay of Kjoge. "To see the Kjoge hens," is anexpression similar to "showing a child London," which is said to be done bytaking his head in both bands, and so lifting him off the ground. At theinvasion of the English in 1807, an encounter of a no very glorious naturetook place between the British troops and the undisciplined Danish militia.
"Kribledy, krabledy--plump!" down fell somebody: it was a wooden bird, thepopinjay used at the shooting-matches at Prastoe. Now he said that there werejust as many inhabitants as he had nails in his body; and he was very proud."Thorwaldsen lived almost next door to me.* Plump! Here I lie capitally."
* Prastoe, a still smaller town than Kjoge. Some hundred paces from it liesthe manor-house Ny Soe, where Thorwaldsen, the famed sculptor, generallysojourned during his stay in Denmark, and where he called many of his immortalworks into existence.
But little Tuk was no longer lying down: all at once he was on horseback. Onhe went at full gallop, still galloping on and on. A knight with a gleamingplume, and most magnificently dressed, held him before him on the horse, andthus they rode through the wood to the old town of Bordingborg, and that was alarge and very lively town. High towers rose from the castle of the king, andthe brightness of many candles streamed from all the windows; within was danceand song, and King Waldemar and the young, richly-attired maids of honordanced together. The morn now came; and as soon as the sun appeared, the wholetown and the king's palace crumbled together, and one tower after the other;and at last only a single one remained standing where the castle had beenbefore,* and the town was so small and poor, and the school boys came alongwith their books under their arms, and said, "2000 inhabitants!" but that wasnot true, for there were not so many.
*Bordingborg, in the reign of King Waldemar, a considerable place, now anunimportant little town. One solitary tower only, and some remains of a wall,show where the castle once stood.
And little Tukey lay in his bed: it seemed to him as if he dreamed, and yet asif he were not dreaming; however, somebody was close beside him.
"Little Tukey! Little Tukey!" cried someone near. It was a seaman, quite alittle personage, so little as if he were a midshipman; but a midshipman itwas not.
"Many remembrances from Corsor.* That is a town that is just rising intoimportance; a lively town that has steam-boats and stagecoaches: formerlypeople called it ugly, but that is no longer true. I lie on the sea," saidCorsor; "I have high roads and gardens, and I have given birth to a poet whowas witty and amusing, which all poets are not. I once intended to equip aship that was to sail all round the earth; but I did not do it, although Icould have done so: and then, too, I smell so deliciously, for close beforethe gate bloom the most beautiful roses."
*Corsor, on the Great Belt, called, formerly, before the introduction ofsteam-vessels, when travellers were often obliged to wait a long time for afavorable wind, "the most tiresome of towns." The poet Baggesen was born here.
Little Tuk looked, and all was red and green before his eyes; but as soon asthe confusion of colors was somewhat over, all of a sudden there appeared awooded slope close to the bay, and high up above stood a magnificent oldchurch, with two high pointed towers. From out the hill-side spouted fountainsin thick streams of water, so that there was a continual splashing; and closebeside them sat an old king with a golden crown upon his white head: that wasKing Hroar, near the fountains, close to the town of Roeskilde, as it is nowcalled. And up the slope into the old church went all the kings and queens ofDenmark, hand in hand, all with their golden crowns; and the organ played andthe fountains rustled. Little Tuk saw all, heard all. "Do not forget thediet," said King Hroar.*
*Roeskilde, once the capital of Denmark. The town takes its name fromKing Hroar, and the many fountains in the neighborhood. In the beautifulcathedral the greater number of the kings and queens of Denmark are interred.In Roeskilde, too, the members of the Danish Diet assemble.
Again all suddenly disappeared. Yes, and whither? It seemed to him just as ifone turned over a leaf in a book. And now stood there an old peasant-woman,who came from Soroe,* where grass grows in the market-place. She had an oldgrey linen apron hanging over her head and back: it was so wet, it certainlymust have been raining. "Yes, that it has," said she; and she now related manypretty things out of Holberg's comedies, and about Waldemar and Absalon; butall at once she cowered together, and her head began shaking backwards andforwards, and she looked as she were going to make a spring. "Croak! croak!"said she. "It is wet, it is wet; there is such a pleasant deathlike stillnessin Sorbe!" She was now suddenly a frog, "Croak"; and now she was an old woman."One must dress according to the weather," said she. "It is wet; it is wet. Mytown is just like a bottle; and one gets in by the neck, and by the neck onemust get out again! In former times I had the finest fish, and now I havefresh rosy-cheeked boys at the bottom of the bottle, who learn wisdom, Hebrew,Greek--Croak!"
* Sorbe, a very quiet little town, beautifully situated, surrounded by woodsand lakes. Holberg, Denmark's Moliere, founded here an academy for the sons ofthe nobles. The poets Hauch and Ingemann were appointed professors here. Thelatter lives there still.
When she spoke it sounded just like the noise of frogs, or as if one walkedwith great boots over a moor; always the same tone, so uniform and so tiringthat little Tuk fell into a good sound sleep, which, by the bye, could not dohim any harm.
But even in this sleep there came a dream, or whatever else it was: his littlesister Augusta, she with the blue eyes and the fair curling hair, was suddenlya tall, beautiful girl, and without having wings was yet able to fly; and shenow flew over Zealand--over the green woods and the blue lakes.
"Do you hear the cock crow, Tukey? Cock-a-doodle-doo! The cocks are flying upfrom Kjoge! You will have a farm-yard, so large, oh! so very large! You willsuffer neither hunger nor thirst! You will get on in the world! You will be arich and happy man! Your house will exalt itself like King Waldemar's tower,and will be richly decorated with marble statues, like that at Prastoe. Youunderstand what I mean. Your name shall circulate with renown all round theearth, like unto the ship that was to have sailed from Corsor; and inRoeskilde--"
"Do not forget the diet!" said King Hroar.
"Then you will speak well and wisely, little Tukey; and when at last you sinkinto your grave, you shall sleep as quietly--"
"As if I lay in Soroe," said Tuk, awaking. It was bright day, and he was nowquite unable to call to mind his dream; that, however, was not at allnecessary, for one may not know what the future will bring.
And out of bed he jumped, and read in his book, and now all at once he knewhis whole lesson. And the old washerwoman popped her head in at the door,nodded to him friendly, and said, "Thanks, many thanks, my good child, foryour help! May the good ever-loving God fulfil your loveliest dream!"
Little Tukey did not at all know what he had dreamed, but the loving God knewit.

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL

Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening--the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along thestreet a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left homeshe had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were verylarge slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; andthe poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street,because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.
One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by anurchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradlewhen he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maidenwalked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold.She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle ofthem in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; noone had given her a single farthing.
She crept along trembling with cold and hunger--a very picture of sorrow, thepoor little thing!
The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curlsaround her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From allthe windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roastgoose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of that she thought.
In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other,she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawnclose up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did notventure, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing ofmoney: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was coldtoo, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled,even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.
Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her aworld of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, drawit against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. "Rischt!"how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, asshe held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to thelittle maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, withburnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with suchblessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had alreadystretched out her feet to warm them too; but--the small flame went out, thestove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.
She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the lightfell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that shecould see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; uponit was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famouslywith its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital tobehold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floorwith knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl;when--the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was leftbehind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the mostmagnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than theone which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant's house.
Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-coloredpictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her.The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when--the match wentout. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them nowas stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.
"Someone is just dead!" said the little girl; for her old grandmother, theonly person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, thatwhen a star falls, a soul ascends to God.
She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustrethere stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with suchan expression of love.
"Grandmother!" cried the little one. "Oh, take me with you! You go away whenthe match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roastgoose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!" And she rubbed the wholebundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure ofkeeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant lightthat it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother beenso beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and bothflew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above wasneither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety--they were with God.
But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosycheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall--frozen to death onthe last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with hermatches, of which one bundle had been burnt. "She wanted to warm herself,"people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things shehad seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmothershe had entered on the joys of a new year.