TRUYỆN CỔ ANDERSEN - Trang 1045

from the window of which he had fallen, there were the same children, the
same playthings, standing on the table, and the pretty castle with the elegant
little dancer at the door; she still balanced herself on one leg, and held up
the other, so she was as firm as himself. It touched the tin soldier so much
to see her that he almost wept tin tears, but he kept them back. He only
looked at her and they both remained silent. Presently one of the little boys
took up the tin soldier, and threw him into the stove. He had no reason for
doing so, therefore it must have been the fault of the black goblin who lived
in the snuff-box. The flames lighted up the tin soldier, as he stood, the heat
was very terrible, but whether it proceeded from the real fire or from the
fire of love he could not tell. Then he could see that the bright colors were
faded from his uniform, but whether they had been washed off during his
journey or from the effects of his sorrow, no one could say. He looked at the
little lady, and she looked at him. He felt himself melting away, but he still
remained firm with his gun on his shoulder. Suddenly the door of the room
flew open and the draught of air caught up the little dancer, she fluttered
like a sylph right into the stove by the side of the tin soldier, and was
instantly in flames and was gone. The tin soldier melted down into a lump,
and the next morning, when the maid servant took the ashes out of the
stove, she found him in the shape of a little tin heart. But of the little dancer
nothing remained but the tinsel rose, which was burnt black as a cinder.