“Only one,” replied the fir-tree; “I heard it on the happiest evening of my
life; but I did not know I was so happy at the time.”
“We think it is a very miserable story,” said the rats. “Don’t you know
any story about bacon, or tallow in the storeroom.”
“No,” replied the tree.
“Many thanks to you then,” replied the rats, and they marched off.
The little mice also kept away after this, and the tree sighed, and said, “It
was very pleasant when the merry little mice sat round me and listened
while I talked. Now that is all passed too. However, I shall consider myself
happy when some one comes to take me out of this place.” But would this
ever happen? Yes; one morning people came to clear out the garret, the
boxes were packed away, and the tree was pulled out of the corner, and
thrown roughly on the garret floor; then the servant dragged it out upon the
staircase where the daylight shone. “Now life is beginning again,” said the
tree, rejoicing in the sunshine and fresh air. Then it was carried down stairs
and taken into the courtyard so quickly, that it forgot to think of itself, and
could only look about, there was so much to be seen. The court was close to
a garden, where everything looked blooming. Fresh and fragrant roses hung
over the little palings. The linden-trees were in blossom; while the swallows
flew here and there, crying, “Twit, twit, twit, my mate is coming,”-but it
was not the fir-tree they meant. “Now I shall live,” cried the tree, joyfully
spreading out its branches; but alas! they were all withered and yellow, and
