far into the country. It was spring and it became summer, it was autumn and
it became winter, and thousands of pictures reflected themselves in the
boy’s eyes and heart, and the little girl always sang again, “You will never
forget that!” And during their whole flight the elder-tree smelt so sweetly;
he noticed the roses and the fresh beeches, but the elder-tree smelt much
stronger, for the flowers were fixed on the little girl’s bosom, against which
the boy often rested his head during the flight.
“It is beautiful here in spring,” said the little girl, and they were again in
the green beechwood, where the thyme breathed forth sweet fragrance at
their feet, and the pink anemones looked lovely in the green moss. “Oh! that
it were always spring in the fragrant beechwood!”
“Here it is splendid in summer!” she said, and they passed by old castles
of the age of chivalry. The high walls and indented battlements were
reflected in the water of the ditches, on which swans were swimming and
peering into the old shady avenues. The corn waved in the field like a
yellow sea. Red and yellow flowers grew in the ditches, wild hops and
convolvuli in full bloom in the hedges. In the evening the moon rose, large
and round, and the hayricks in the meadows smelt sweetly. “One can never
forget it!”
“Here it is beautiful in autumn!” said the little girl, and the atmosphere
seemed twice as high and blue, while the wood shone with crimson, green,
and gold. The hounds were running off, flocks of wild fowl flew screaming
over the barrows, while the bramble bushes twined round the old stones.
The dark-blue sea was covered with white-sailed ships, and in the barns sat
old women, girls, and children picking hops into a large tub; the young ones
sang songs, and the old people told fairy tales about goblins and sorcerers.
It could not be more pleasant anywhere.
“Here it’s agreeable in winter!” said the little girl, and all the trees were
covered with hoar-frost, so that they looked like white coral. The snow
creaked under one’s feet, as if one had new boots on. One shooting star after
another traversed the sky. In the room the Christmas tree was lit, and there
were song and merriment. In the peasant’s cottage the violin sounded, and
