largest flower-pot she could find, and in this she placed the head of the dead
man, covered it up with earth, and planted the twig of jasmine in it.
“Farewell, farewell,” whispered the little elf. He could not any longer
endure to witness all this agony of grief, he therefore flew away to his own
rose in the garden. But the rose was faded; only a few dry leaves still clung
to the green hedge behind it.
“Alas! how soon all that is good and beautiful passes away,” sighed the
elf.
After a while he found another rose, which became his home, for among
its delicate fragrant leaves he could dwell in safety. Every morning he flew
to the window of the poor girl, and always found her weeping by the flower
pot. The bitter tears fell upon the jasmine twig, and each day, as she became
paler and paler, the sprig appeared to grow greener and fresher. One shoot
after another sprouted forth, and little white buds blossomed, which the
poor girl fondly kissed. But her wicked brother scolded her, and asked her if
she was going mad. He could not imagine why she was weeping over that
flower-pot, and it annoyed him. He did not know whose closed eyes were
there, nor what red lips were fading beneath the earth. And one day she sat
and leaned her head against the flower-pot, and the little elf of the rose
found her asleep. Then he seated himself by her ear, talked to her of that
evening in the arbor, of the sweet perfume of the rose, and the loves of the
elves. Sweetly she dreamed, and while she dreamt, her life passed away
calmly and gently, and her spirit was with him whom she loved, in heaven.
And the jasmine opened its large white bells, and spread forth its sweet
fragrance; it had no other way of showing its grief for the dead. But the
wicked brother considered the beautiful blooming plant as his own property,
left to him by his sister, and he placed it in his sleeping room, close by his
bed, for it was very lovely in appearance, and the fragrance sweet and
delightful. The little elf of the rose followed it, and flew from flower to
flower, telling each little spirit that dwelt in them the story of the murdered
young man, whose head now formed part of the earth beneath them, and of
the wicked brother and the poor sister. “We know it,” said each little spirit
