such tales as “Humpty Dumpty,” who fell down stairs, and yet married a
princess.
“Ah! yes, so it happens in the world,” thought the fir-tree; he believed it
all, because it was related by such a nice man. “Ah! well,” he thought, “who
knows? perhaps I may fall down too, and marry a princess;” and he looked
forward joyfully to the next evening, expecting to be again decked out with
lights and playthings, gold and fruit. “To-morrow I will not tremble,”
thought he; “I will enjoy all my splendor, and I shall hear the story of
Humpty Dumpty again, and perhaps Ivede-Avede.” And the tree remained
quiet and thoughtful all night. In the morning the servants and the
housemaid came in. “Now,” thought the fir, “all my splendor is going to
begin again.” But they dragged him out of the room and up stairs to the
garret, and threw him on the floor, in a dark corner, where no daylight
shone, and there they left him. “What does this mean?” thought the tree,
“what am I to do here? I can hear nothing in a place like this,” and he had
time enough to think, for days and nights passed and no one came near him,
and when at last somebody did come, it was only to put away large boxes in
a corner. So the tree was completely hidden from sight as if it had never
existed. “It is winter now,” thought the tree, “the ground is hard and covered
with snow, so that people cannot plant me. I shall be sheltered here, I dare
say, until spring comes. How thoughtful and kind everybody is to me! Still I
wish this place were not so dark, as well as lonely, with not even a little
hare to look at. How pleasant it was out in the forest while the snow lay on
the ground, when the hare would run by, yes, and jump over me too,
although I did not like it then. Oh! it is terrible lonely here.”
“Squeak, squeak,” said a little mouse, creeping cautiously towards the
tree; then came another; and they both sniffed at the fir-tree and crept
between the branches.
“Oh, it is very cold,” said the little mouse, “or else we should be so
comfortable here, shouldn’t we, you old fir-tree?”
“I am not old,” said the fir-tree, “there are many who are older than I
am.”
