(1839)
In the midst of a garden grew a rose-tree, in full blossom, and in the
prettiest of all the roses lived an elf. He was such a little wee thing, that no
human eye could see him. Behind each leaf of the rose he had a sleeping
chamber. He was as well formed and as beautiful as a little child could be,
and had wings that reached from his shoulders to his feet. Oh, what sweet
fragrance there was in his chambers! and how clean and beautiful were the
walls! for they were the blushing leaves of the rose.
During the whole day he enjoyed himself in the warm sunshine, flew
from flower to flower, and danced on the wings of the flying butterflies.
Then he took it into his head to measure how many steps he would have to
go through the roads and cross-roads that are on the leaf of a linden-tree.
What we call the veins on a leaf, he took for roads; ay, and very long roads
they were for him; for before he had half finished his task, the sun went
down: he had commenced his work too late. It became very cold, the dew
fell, and the wind blew; so he thought the best thing he could do would be
to return home. He hurried himself as much as he could; but he found the
roses all closed up, and he could not get in; not a single rose stood open.
The poor little elf was very much frightened. He had never before been out
at night, but had always slumbered secretly behind the warm rose-leaves.
Oh, this would certainly be his death. At the other end of the garden, he
knew there was an arbor, overgrown with beautiful honey-suckles. The
blossoms looked like large painted horns; and he thought to himself, he
would go and sleep in one of these till the morning. He flew thither; but
“hush!” two people were in the arbor,-a handsome young man and a
beautiful lady. They sat side by side, and wished that they might never be
obliged to part. They loved each other much more than the best child can
love its father and mother.
