AND OTHER STORIES 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES ROBINSON 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/happyprinceother1888wild 
 
PERKINS LIBRARY 
 
 DuU U niversity 
 Gift of 
 Elizabeth 
 Griggs 
 Gooke 
 
 Rare Books 
 
- 1 
 
 
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 ■ 4 . >' 4 :' 
 
 
THE 
 
 HAPPY 
 
 PRINCE 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER 
 
 TALES 
 
This Edition is limited to Two Hundred and 
 Sixty copies^ of which Two Hundred and Fifty 
 are for sale, numbered, and signed by the artist. 
 

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 i A V 
 
 HAPPY 
 
 And Other Tales 
 OSCAR WILDE 
 
 li!u«rated by CHARLES ROBINSON 
 
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 ' •■••-■?; ' ■ "f-f s'-' . .r'^-: 1:5^8 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 And Other Tales 
 By OSCAR WILDE 
 
 Illustrated by CHARLES ROBINSON 
 
 DUCKWORTH & CO., COVENT GARDEN, LONDON 
 
First published b-j David Nutt, May, I 888 
 
 Reprinted January, 1889 ; February, 1902 ; 
 September, 1905 ; February, 1907 ; March, 1908 ; 
 March, 1910 
 
 New Edition, reset. With illustrations by Charles 
 Robinson, published by arrangement with David Nutt 
 by Duckworth iff Co., 1913 
 
Carlos Blacker 
 
LIST OF COLOUR PLATES 
 
 The King of the Mountains of the Moon Frontis. 
 
 Facing page 
 
 The Palace of Sans-Souci - - - - 20 
 
 The Loveliest of the Queen’s Maids of 
 
 Honour ------- - zF 
 
 The Rich Making Merry in Their Beautiful 
 Houses while the Beggars were Sitting 
 AT THE Gates - - - - - - 32 
 
 She will Pass me by ----- 42 
 
 His Lips are Sweet as Honey - - - 48 
 
 In every Tree he could see there was a 
 
 Little Child 64 
 
 The Little Boy he had Loved - - - 68 
 
 The Green Linnet ------ 76 
 
 Hans in his Garden ----- 92 
 
 The Russian Princess - - - 
 
 “Let the Fireworks begin,” said 
 THE King ----- 
 
,V' 
 
 '•r1 
 
 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE. 
 
 IGH above the city, on a tall 
 column, stood the statue 
 of the Happy Prince. He 
 was gilded all over with 
 thin leaves of fine gold, 
 for eyes he had two bright 
 sapphires, and a large red 
 ruby glowed on his sword-hilt. 
 
 He was very much admired indeed. “He 
 is as beautiful as a weathercock,” remarked one 
 
 15 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 of the Town Councillors who wished to gain 
 a reputation for having artistic tastes ; “ only 
 not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest 
 people should think him unpractical, which he 
 really was not.. 
 
 “ Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince ? ” 
 asked a sensible mother of her little boy who 
 was crying for the moon. “The Happy Prince 
 never dreams of crying for anything.” 
 
 “ I am glad there is some one in the world 
 who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed 
 man as he gazed at the wonderful statue. 
 
 “ He looks just like an angel,” said the 
 Charity Children as they came out of the 
 cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and 
 their clean white pinafores. 
 
 “How do you know .T’ said the Mathema- 
 tical Master, “you have never seen one.” 
 
 “ Ah ! but we have, in our dreams,” an- 
 swered the children ; and the Mathematical 
 
 1 6 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 Master frowned and looked very severe, for he 
 did not approve of children dreaming. 
 
 One night there flew over the city a little 
 Swallow. His friends had gone away to 
 Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed 
 behind, for he was in love with the most 
 beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the 
 spring as he was flying down the river after 
 a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted 
 by her slender waist that he had stopped to 
 talk to her. 
 
 “Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who 
 liked to come to the point at once, and the 
 Reed made him a low bow. So he flew 
 round and round her, touching the water with 
 his wings, and making silver ripples. This 
 was his courtship, and it lasted all through the 
 summer.' 
 
 “It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered 
 the other Swallows ; “ she has no money, and 
 
 1 7 c 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 far too many relations ; ” and indeed the river 
 was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the 
 autumn came they all flew away. 
 
 After they had gone he felt lonely, and 
 began to tire of his lady-love. ‘‘She has no 
 conversation,” he said, “and I am afraid that 
 she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with 
 the wind.” And certainly, whenever the 
 wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful 
 curtseys. “I admit that she is domestic,” he 
 continued, “but I love travelling, and my 
 wife, consequently, should love travelling also.” 
 
 “Will you come away with me?” he said 
 Anally to her; but the Reed shook her head, 
 she was so attached to her home. 
 
 “You have been trifling with me,” he cried. 
 “I am offl to the Pyramids. Good-bye!” 
 and he flew away. 
 
 All day long he flew, and at night-time he 
 arrived at the city. “Where shall I put up?” 
 
 i8 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 he said ; “I hope the town has made prepara- 
 tions.” 
 
 Then he saw the statue on the tall column. 
 
 “ I will put up there,” he cried ; ‘‘it is a fine 
 position, with plenty of fresh air.” So he 
 alighted just between the feet of the Happy 
 Prince. 
 
 “I have a golden bedroom,” he said softly 
 to himself as he looked round, and he pre- 
 pared to go to sleep ; but just as he was putting 
 his head under his wing a large drop of water 
 fell on him. “What a curious thing!” he 
 cried; “there is not a single cloud in the sky, 
 the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it 
 is raining. The climate in the north of 
 Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to 
 like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.” 
 
 Then another drop fell. 
 
 “What is the use of a statue if it cannot 
 keep the rain off?” he said; “I must look for 
 
 19 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 a good chimncy-pot,” and he determined to 
 Hy away. 
 
 But before he had opened his wings, a third 
 
 drop fell, and he looked up, and saw 
 
 Ah ! what did he see ? 
 
 The eyes of the Happy Prinee were filled 
 with tears, and tears were running down his 
 golden eheeks. His face was so beautiful in 
 the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled 
 with pity. 
 
 “Who are you?” he said. 
 
 “ I am the Happy Prince.” 
 
 “Why are you weeping then?” asked the 
 Swallow; “you have quite drenched me.” 
 
 “ When I was alive and had a human heart,” 
 answered the statue, “ I did not know what 
 tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans- 
 Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. 
 In the daytime I played with my companions 
 in the garden, and in the evening I led the 
 
 20 
 
n \ppy pRiNCK 
 
 \ :md he determined to 
 
 he had ojup.ed his wings, a third 
 
 i'^d he looked np, ntui saw 
 
 ^ e-: lie see r 
 
 ii. ; . )i the Happy Prince were tilled 
 1 e'.n’r. end tears- were riinnino; down Ire. 
 
 Vw- 
 
 ; - i’.eek?. His face v/as so heiiutiiul in 
 e ehe*'" that list' little Swallow was hdeJ. 
 
 -k • 
 
 ■ are you?” he said. 
 
 ' ? .\rr-! the Haupv Prince.” 
 
 h V are vou weeping then?” asked the 
 > :■ “ : ""you have quite drenched me, ’ 
 
 ‘ W h;cn i was alive and had a hurnan bean,” 
 ;pci the statue, “ I did not know what 
 . p-c»e, for I lived in the Palace of Sans- 
 < i, where sorrow is not allowed to enter, 
 the daytime 1 idayed vvitli my companions 
 ^he garden, an<l in the evening 1 led the 
 
 zo 
 

THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden 
 ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask 
 what lay beyond it, everything about me was 
 so beautiful. My courtiers called me the 
 Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if 
 pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so 
 I died. And now that I am dead they have 
 set me up here so high that I can see all the 
 ugliness and all the misery of my city, and 
 though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot 
 chose but weep.” 
 
 “What! is he not solid gold.?” said the 
 Swallow to himself. He was too polite to 
 make any personal remarks out loud. 
 
 “ Far away,” continued the statue in a low 
 musical voice, “far away in a little street there 
 is a poor house. One of the windows is open, 
 and through it I can see a woman seated at 
 a table. Her face is thin and worn, and she 
 has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle. 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering 
 passion-dowers on a satin gown for the loveliest 
 of the Queen’s maids-of-honour to wear at the 
 next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of 
 the room her little boy is lying ill. He has 
 a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother 
 has nothing to give him but river water, so he 
 is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, 
 will you not bring her the ruby out of my 
 sword-hilt ? My feet are fastened to this pedestal 
 and I cannot move.” 
 
 “ I am waited for in Egypt,” said the Swallow. 
 “ My friends are dying up and down the Nile, 
 and talking to the large lotus-dowers. Soon 
 they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great 
 King. The King is there himself in his painted 
 cofdn. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and 
 embalmed with spices. Round his neck is 
 a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are 
 like withered leaves.” 
 
 22 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 “ Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said 
 the Prince, “will you not stay with me for 
 one night, and be my messenger? The boy is 
 so thirsty, and the mother so sad.” 
 
 “ I don’t think I like boys,” answered the 
 Swallow. “ Last summer, when I was staying 
 on the river, there were two rude boys, the 
 miller’s sons, who were always throwing stones 
 at me. They never hit me, of course ; we 
 swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, 
 I come of a family famous for its agility ; but 
 still, it was a mark of disrespect.” 
 
 But the Happy Prince looked so sad that 
 the little Swallow was sorry. “It is very cold 
 here,” he said ; “ but I will stay with you for 
 one night, and be your messenger.” 
 
 “Thank you, little Swallow,” said the Prince. 
 So the Swallow picked out the great ruby 
 from the Prince’s sword, and flew away with 
 it in his beak over the roofs of the town. 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 He passed by the cathedral tower, where 
 the white marble angels were sculptured. He 
 passed by the palace and heard the sound of 
 dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the 
 balcony with her lover. ‘‘ How wonderful the 
 stars are,” he said to her, “and how wonderful 
 is the power of love ! ” 
 
 “ I hope my dress will be ready in time for 
 the State-ball,” she answered , “ I have ordered 
 passion-flowers to be embroidered on it ; but 
 the seamstresses are so lazy.” 
 
 He passed over the river, and saw the 
 lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships. 
 He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old 
 jews bargaining with each other, and weighing 
 out money in copper scales. At last he came 
 to the poor house and looked in. The boy 
 was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the 
 mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In 
 he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the 
 
 24 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 table beside the woman’s thimble. Then he 
 flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy’s 
 forehead with his wings. How cool I feel,” 
 said the boy, ‘H must be getting better;” and 
 he sank into a delicious slumber. 
 
 Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy 
 Prince, and told him what he had done. “ It 
 is curious,” he remarked, “but I feel quite 
 warm now, although it is so cold.” 
 
 “That is because you have done a good 
 action,” said the Prince. And the little 
 Swallow began to think, and then he fell 
 asleep. Thinking always made him sleepy. 
 
 When day broke he flew down to the river 
 and had a bath. “ What a remarkable pheno- 
 menon,” said the Professor of Ornithology as 
 he was passing over the bridge. “A swallow 
 in winter ! ” And he wrote a long letter 
 about it to the local newspaper. Every one 
 quoted it, it was full of so many words that 
 
 25 D 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 they could not understand. 
 
 ‘‘ To-night I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, 
 and he was in high spirits at the prospect. 
 He visited all the public monuments, and sat 
 a long time on top of the church steeple. 
 Wherever he went the Sparrows chirruped, 
 and said to each other, “ What a distinguished 
 stranger!” so he enjoyed himself very much. 
 
 When the moon rose he flew back to the 
 Happy Prince. ‘‘ Have you any commissions 
 for Egypt ? ” he cried ; ‘‘ I am just starting.” 
 
 “ Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said 
 the Prince, “will you not stay with me one 
 night longer ? ” 
 
 “I am waited for in Egypt,” answered the 
 Swallow. “To-morrow my friends will fly 
 up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse 
 couches there among the bulrushes, and on 
 a great granite throne sits the God Memnon. 
 All night long he watches the stars, and when 
 
 26 
 
The Loveliest of the Queen's Maids of Honour 
 

 f PV PRINCE 
 
 i • ? pi/’ said the Swallow, 
 at the prospect. 
 
 ' ' : o?' a\uioents, and sat 
 
 ilx: . imrch steeple. 
 
 I ^•r r v^,‘i -i’c Spj'Tows chirruped, 
 
 , • , t;! r.ich What a distinguished 
 
 ' -'c ,r! " j>c rx: cn|Oved inTriself very much, 
 di ; rroon T'Xk: Ih; Hew bach to the 
 , hr ' ' M ]-vv '!tf ari\ conmhssions 
 
 :■• ■ ;r s .u/. jUbi Starting.. 
 
 V - a . -^'.v'allow, httie Svv.aliow/’ said 
 ;e. 'c. '‘Vvili you not stay with me one 
 ■rgerr’' 
 
 ‘ ;• , *i -.v lined for in Egypt,” answered the 
 CO " 1 o- morrow my iriends will fly 
 ' o rhv Second Cataract., The rieer- horse 
 • v hio dune among the bulrushes, aud’ on 
 n e riomiie throne sits the God Memnon. 
 :\\\ sJohv 1 >>;;x he. watches the stars/ and when^ 
 
 z() 
 

THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 the morning star shines he utters one cry of 
 joy, and then he is silent. At noon the yellow 
 lions come down to the water’s edge to drink. 
 They have eyes like green beryls, and their 
 roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.” 
 Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said 
 the Prince, “far away across the city I see 
 a young man in a garret. He is leaning over 
 a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler 
 by his side there is a bunch of withered violets. 
 His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are 
 red as a pomegranate, and he has large and 
 dreamy eyes. He is trying to hnish a play 
 for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too 
 cold to write any more. There is no fire in 
 the grate, and hunger has made him faint.” 
 
 “ I will wait with you one night longer,” 
 said the Swallow, who really had a good heart. 
 “Shall I take him another ruby.?” 
 
 “Alas! I have no ruby now,” said the 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 Prince; “my eyes are all that I have left. 
 They are made of rare sapphires, which were 
 brought out of India a thousand years ago. 
 Pluck out one of them and take it to him. 
 He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food 
 and hrewood, and hnish his play.” 
 
 “ Dear Prince,” said the swallow, “ I cannot 
 do that”; and he began to weep. 
 
 “ Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said 
 the Prince, “do as I command you.” 
 
 So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s 
 eye, and flew away to the student’s garret. 
 It was easy enough to get in, as there was 
 a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, 
 and came into the room. The young man 
 had his head buried in his hands, so he did 
 not hear the flutter of the bird’s wings, and 
 when he looked up he found the beautiful 
 sapphire lying on the withered violets. 
 
 “ I am beginning to be appreciated,” he 
 
 28 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 cried ; ‘‘this is from some great admirer. Now 
 I can finish my play,” and he looked quite 
 
 The next day the Swallow flew down to 
 the harbour. He sat on the mast of a large 
 vessel and watched the sailors hauling big 
 chests out of the hold with ropes. “ Heave 
 a-hoy ! ” they shouted as each chest came up. 
 “I am going to Egypt”! cried the Swallow, 
 but nobody minded, and when the moon rose 
 he flew back to the Happy Prince. 
 
 “I am come to bid you good-bye,” he 
 cried. 
 
 “ Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said 
 the Prince, “will you not stay with me one 
 night longer?” 
 
 “It is winter,” answered the Swallow, “and 
 the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt 
 the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and 
 the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily 
 
 29 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 about them. My companions are building 
 a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink 
 and white doves are watching them, and cooing 
 to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave you, 
 but I will never forget you, and next spring 
 I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in 
 place of those you have given away. The 
 ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the 
 sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.” 
 
 “ In the square below,” said the Happy 
 Prince, “there stands a little match-girl. She 
 has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they 
 are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if 
 she does not bring home some money, and 
 she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, 
 and her little head is bare. Pluck out my 
 other eye, and give it to her, and her father 
 will not beat her.” 
 
 “ I will stay with you one night longer,” 
 said the Swallow, “but I cannot pluck out 
 
 30 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 your eye. You would be quite blind then.” 
 
 “ Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the 
 Prince, “do as I command you.” 
 
 So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, 
 and darted down with it. He swooped past 
 the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the 
 palm of her hand. “What a lovely bit of 
 glass,” cried the little girl ; and she ran home, 
 laughing. 
 
 Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. 
 “You are blind now,” he said, “so I will stay 
 with you always.” 
 
 “No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, 
 “you must go away to Egypt.” 
 
 “ I will stay with you always,” said the 
 Swallow, and he slept at the Prince’s feet. 
 
 All the next day he sat on the Prince’s 
 shoulder, and told him stories of what he had 
 seen in strange lands. He told him of the 
 red ibises, who stand in long rows on the 
 
 31 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 banks of the Nile, and catch gold-fish in their 
 beaks ; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the 
 world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows 
 everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly 
 by the side of their camels and carry amber 
 beads in their hands ; of the King of the 
 Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as 
 ebony, and worships a large crystal ; of the 
 great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, 
 and has twenty priests to feed it with honey- 
 cakes ; and of the pygmies who sail over a big 
 lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war 
 with the butterflies. 
 
 ‘‘Dear little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you 
 tell me of marvellous things, but more marvel- 
 lous than anything is the suffering of men and 
 of women. There is no Mystery so great as 
 Misery. Fly over my city, little Swallow, and 
 tell me what you see there.” 
 
 So the Swallow flew over the great city, and 
 
 32 
 
ThR Rich making Merry in their beautiful Houses^ while the 
 Beggars were sitting at the Gates 
 
iHr HAPPY PK^N^-P 
 
 ; 'Pv . and f:atch t>h in their 
 - Ah S; Vh’ v, who !:- ■■):■. oii.] as the 
 • ami livhs in the j and knows 
 
 . \ • } the merchanr^n w Ah n,.|lv siowly 
 
 h\ t ! .V ;... '■ their caincls i.-n^v amber 
 
 lu.ach^ iH a. :r iejnds; of th:' oi the 
 
 Monntainh hv r^e ^foon, who is idaek as 
 . i' >n V' and a large crvsnd , oi the 
 
 L,.'. ' 'O'ia i, A; : -heps in a pahn-cree, 
 
 a ■ \ ^ n ’ ' '• \si it wit n fion.e^~ 
 
 . ikes; and of the j-ye-: H- wlio sail over a big 
 i ;ke on large leaves^ and ar^ cilwav- ai war 
 witix the butterflies. 
 
 “Dear iitA-' Swallow,” said the Prince, ^^you 
 rf'l] me of marvelh)as things, but more mai vtA 
 ^ous than anything is the suffering of men and 
 w omen. d here is no Mystery so great as 
 Misery. FI)- .over in-y city, little Swallow, and 
 tell me what \ v>n sec there.” 
 
 So the Swallow desv <!vei the great eitv, and 
 
 32 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 saw the rich making merry in their beautiful 
 houses, while the beggars were sitting at the 
 gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the 
 white faces of starving children looking out 
 listlessly at the black streets. Under the arch- 
 way of a bridge two little boys were lying in 
 one another’s arms to try and keep themselves 
 warm. “How hungry we are!” they said. 
 “You must not lie here,” shouted the Watch- 
 man, and they wandered out into the rain. 
 
 Then he flew back and told the Prince 
 what he had seen. 
 
 “ I am covered with flne gold,” said the 
 Prince, “ you must take it off, leaf by leaf, 
 and give it to my poor ; the living always 
 think that gold can make them happy.” 
 
 Leaf after leaf of the flne gold the Swallow 
 picked off*, till the Happy Prince looked quite 
 dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the flne gold 
 he brought to the poor, and the children’s 
 
 33 
 
 E 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played 
 o;ames in the street. “We have bread now!” 
 they cried. 
 
 Then the snow came, and after the snow 
 came the frost. The streets looked as if they 
 were made of silver, they were so bright and 
 glistening ; long icicles like crystal daggers 
 hung down from the eaves of the houses, 
 everybody went about in furs, and the little 
 boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the 
 ice. 
 
 The poor little Swallow grew colder and 
 colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he 
 loved him too well. He picked up crumbs 
 outside the baker’s door when the baker was 
 not looking, and tried to keep himself warm 
 by flapping his wings. 
 
 But at last he knew that he was going to 
 die. He had just strength to fly up to the 
 Prince’s shoulder once more. “Good-bye, 
 
 34 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 dear Prince!” he murmured, “will you let 
 me kiss your hand ? ” 
 
 “ I am glad that you are going to Egypt at 
 last, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you 
 have stayed too long here ; but you must kiss 
 me on the lips, for I love you.” 
 
 “It is not to Egypt that I am going,” said 
 the Swallow. “ I am going to the House of 
 Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he 
 not } ” 
 
 And he kissed the Happy Prince on the 
 lips, and fell down dead at his feet. 
 
 At that moment a curious crack sounded 
 inside the statue, as if something had broken. 
 The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped 
 right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully 
 hard frost. 
 
 Early the next morning the Mayor was 
 walking in the square below in company with 
 the Town Councillors. As they passed the 
 
 35 
 

 THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 
 I I 
 , I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 
 I 
 
 V* 
 / 
 '? 
 c , 
 
 
 
 column he looked up at the statue: ‘‘Dear 
 me ! how shabby the Happy Prince looks ! ” 
 he said. 
 
 “How shabby, indeed!” cried the Town 
 Councillors, who always agreed with the 
 Mayor ; and they went up to look at it. 
 
 “The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his 
 eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer,” 
 said the Mayor; “in fact, he is little better 
 than a beggar 1 ” 
 
 “Little better than a beggar,” said the 
 Town Councillors. 
 
 “ And here is actually a dead bird at his 
 feet!” continued the Mayor. “We must 
 really issue a proclamation that birds are not 
 to be allowed to die here.” And the Town 
 Clerk made a note of the suggestion. 
 
 So they pulled down the statue of the 
 Happy Prince. “ As he is no longer beautiful 
 he is no longer useful,” said the Art Professor 
 
 36 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 at the University. 
 
 Then they melted the statue in a furnace, 
 and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corpora- 
 tion to decide what was to be done with the 
 metal. ‘‘We must have another statue, of 
 course,” he said, “and it shall be a statue of 
 myself.” 
 
 “Of myself,” said each of the Town Coun- 
 cillors, and they quarrelled. When I last 
 heard of them they were quarrelling still. 
 
 “What a strange thing!” said the overseer 
 of the workmen at the foundry. “This broken 
 lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We 
 must throw it away.” So they threw it on a 
 dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also 
 
 “ Bring me the two most precious things 
 in the city,” said God to one of His Angels ; 
 and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart 
 and the dead bird. 
 
 37 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 “You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for 
 in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall 
 sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the 
 Happy Prince shall praise me.” 
 
 38 
 
THE 
 
 NIGHTINGALE 
 
 AND 
 
 THE 
 
 ROSE 
 
s 
 
 ./"h 
 
 (I 
 
 ft 
 
 
 .'•i' 
 
 ] 
 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE 
 ROSE 
 
 HE said that she would 
 dance with me if I brought 
 her red roses,” cried the 
 young Student ; ‘‘but in 
 all my garden there is no 
 red rose.” 
 
 Erom her nest in the 
 holm-oak tree the Nightingale heard him, and 
 she looked out through the leaves, and won- 
 dered. 
 
 4 > 
 
 F 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 ‘‘ No red rose in all my garden ! ” he cried, 
 and his beautiful eyes filled with tears. “Ah, 
 on what little things does happiness depend ! 
 I have read all that the wise men have written, 
 and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet 
 for want of a red rose is my life made wretched.” 
 “ Here at last is a true lover,” said the Night- 
 ingale. “ Night after night have I sung of him, 
 though I knew him not : night after night have 
 I told his story to the stars, and now I see him. 
 His hair is dark as the hyacinth-blossom, and 
 his lips are red as the rose of his desire ; but 
 passion has made his face like pale ivory, and 
 sorrow has set her seal upon his brow.” 
 
 “The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night,” 
 murmured the young Student, “and my love 
 will be of the company. If I bring her a red 
 rose she will dance with me till dawn. If I 
 bring her a red rose, I shall hold her in my arms, 
 and she will lean her head upon my shoulder. 
 
 42 
 

 NU.tiri 
 
 ANi> THE ROSE 
 
 “N. 
 
 :c<' rosf in alt piv' ^anicn!” he cried, 
 
 .ilal h\< 
 
 !u;vJ \vit,o. tears. 
 
 u 
 
 Ah, 
 
 ■n\ what little lianva d;;va happiness depend ! 
 i ha\a: read all that tla; ^ i sc men have written, 
 ai':i all the secrets ot pl.ihvsnpliy are rnine, yet 
 t;; " V ant ol a red rose is my Hie made wretched/’ 
 I h.re at last is a true lover,” said tlie Night- 
 r,an ‘e. N'iglit adter night have I sung of him, 
 
 d' Livh. I knew^ him not : night after night have 
 ! told Ms storv to the stars, and now I see him. 
 M ' iiair is dark as the h vacinth-blossom, and 
 ■ !:r?s are red as the rose of his desire j but 
 
 ■ !• 'O has made his face like pale ivory, and 
 M/TT /vi l>ai- set her seal upon his brow.” 
 
 i IK- Prince gives a ball to-morrow nig lit,” 
 i ni.rmured the young Student, ‘Mind my love 
 •,vdl 1 e of the company. If [ bring her a. red 
 rv/se slie will dance with me till dawn. Ji I 
 lo’ing licr a red rose, I sliali hold her in my arms, 
 and va. will loan he: ircad upon my shoulder, 
 
h'- 
 
 '% 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 and her hand will be clasped in mine. But 
 there is no red rose in my garden, so I shall sit 
 lonely, and she will pass me by. She will have 
 no heed of me, and my heart will break.” 
 
 Here indeed is the true lover,” said the 
 Nightingale. “ What I sing of, he suffers : 
 what is joy to me, to him is pain. Surely Love 
 is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than 
 emeralds, and dearer than line opals. Pearls 
 and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set 
 forth in the market-place. It may not be pur- 
 chased of the merchants, nor can it be weighed 
 out in the balance for gold.” 
 
 “The musicians will sit in their gallery,” 
 said the young Student, “and play upon their 
 stringed instruments, and my love will dance to 
 the sound of the harp and the violin. She will 
 dance so lightly that her feet will not touch the 
 floor, and the courtiers in their gay dresses will 
 throng round her. But with me she will not 
 
 43 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 
 dance, for I have no red rose to give her ; ” and 
 he dung himself down on the grass, and buried 
 his face in his hands, and wept. 
 
 ‘‘ Why is he weeping ? ” asked a little Green 
 Lizard, as he ran past him with his tail in the air. 
 
 “Why, indeed?” said a Butterfly, who was 
 fluttering about after a sunbeam. 
 
 “Why, indeed?” whispered a Daisy to his 
 neighbour, in a soft, low voice. 
 
 “ He is weeping for a red rose,” said the 
 Nightingale. 
 
 “For a red rose?” they cried; “how very 
 ridiculous!” and the little Lizard, who was 
 something of a cynic, laughed outright. 
 
 But the Nightingale understood the secret of 
 the Student’s sorrow, and she sat silent in the 
 oak-tree, and thought about the mystery of 
 Love. 
 
 Suddenly she spread her brown wings for 
 flight, and soared into the air. She passed 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 through the grove like a shadow, and like a 
 shadow she sailed across the garden. 
 
 In the centre of the grass-plot was standing 
 a beautiful Rose-tree, and when she saw it she 
 dew over to it, and lit upon a spray. 
 
 “Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I 
 will sing you my sweetest song.” 
 
 But the Tree shook its head. 
 
 “My roses are white,” it answered; “as 
 white as the foam of the sea, and whiter than 
 the snow upon the mountain. But go to my 
 brother who grows round the old sun-dial, and 
 perhaps he will give you what you want.” 
 
 So the Nightingale dew over to the Rose-tree 
 that was growing round the old sun-dial. 
 
 “Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I 
 will sing you my sweetest song.” 
 
 But the Tree shook its head. 
 
 “My roses are yellow,” it answered ; “as 
 yellow as the hair of the mermaiden who sits 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 upon an amber throne, and yellower than the 
 dallodil that blooms in the meadow before the 
 mower comes with his scythe. But go to my 
 brother who grows beneath the Student’s win- 
 dow, and perhaps he will give you what you 
 want.” 
 
 So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose- 
 tree that was growing beneath the Student’s 
 window. 
 
 “Give me a red rose,” she cried, “and I 
 will sing you my sweetest song.” 
 
 But the Tree shook its head. 
 
 “My roses are red,” it answered, “as red 
 as the feet of the dove, and redder than the 
 great fans of coral that wave and wave in the 
 ocean-cavern. But the winter has chilled my 
 veins, and the frost has nipped my buds, and 
 the storm has broken my branches, and I shall 
 have no roses at all this year.” 
 
 “One red rose is all I want,” cried the 
 
 46 
 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 Nightingale, “only one red rose! Is there no 
 way by which I can get it ? ” 
 
 “There is a way,” answered the Tree ; “ but 
 it is so terrible that I dare not tell it to you.” 
 “Tell it to me,” said the Nightingale, “I 
 am not afraid.” 
 
 “If you want a red rose,” said the Tree, 
 “you must build it out of music by moonlight, 
 and stain it with your own heart’s-blood. You 
 must sing to me with your breast against a 
 thorn. All night long you must sing to me, 
 and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your 
 life-blood must flow into my veins, and become 
 mine.” 
 
 “ Death is a great price to pay for a red 
 rose,” cried the Nightingale, “and Life is very 
 dear to all. It is pleasant to sit in the green 
 wood, and to watch the Sun in his chariot of 
 gold, and the Moon in her chariot of pearl. 
 Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet 
 
 +7 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and 
 the heather that blows on the hill. Yet Love 
 is better than Idle, and what is the heart of a 
 bird compared to the heart of a man ? 
 
 So she spread her brown wings for flight, 
 and soared into the air. She swept over the 
 garden like a shadow, and like a shadow she 
 sailed through the grove. 
 
 The young Student was still lying on the 
 grass, where she had left him, and the tears 
 were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes. 
 
 ‘‘ Be happy,” cried the Nightingale, be 
 happy ; you shall have your red rose. I will 
 build it out of music by moonlight, and stain 
 it with my own heart’s-blood. All that I ask 
 of you in return is that you will be a true lover, 
 for Love is wiser than Philosophy, though he 
 is wise, and mightier than Power, though he 
 is mighty. Flame-coloured are his wings, and 
 coloured like flame is his body. His lips are 
 
 48 
 

 
 
 “ His Lips are Sweet 
 
 'y^ 
 
 r- ' 
 
:]!:• r^Nf^ALl’ AND THE ROSE 
 
 ;m !•;■: i ' ^ 'n.^r hide in the valley, and 
 d,c - ''v s^n the hill. Yet Love 
 
 is hviri.: than l,in . '.vhat is the heart of a 
 LiantKircd lo .hi. .. as: f>l n man?” 
 
 Si: !u- .|>read hci l»i-s)u:' for flight, 
 
 ’'•%i - navi into the air. Ma. vW’-ps f;ver the 
 - h'h.. a shadow, and like a sh.avlovv she 
 
 ■ • • ■ . ■ r ■■ h • lu, grove, 
 
 i he S ' ■ Sf-i-LiO was still Iving on the 
 
 J O 
 
 grass, whs- , i- -,jO !*• n him, and the tears 
 were ooc -v •' v in )»••. brnutiful eyes. 
 
 ' B- iuij evied the Nightingale, “be 
 haiM"^ A "^haii have, your red rose. I will 
 
 - 11 /. j 
 
 r did it nv\ {.i bv lijoonlight, and stain 
 
 a-o .T, o\v:i in-vrt s-blooJ. All that 1 ask 
 . o O'! =hai you will be a true lover, 
 • . . wi.^cr thaii Philosophy, though he 
 ,ind mightier than Power, though he 
 ; vhty. Flarne-cisloure'l are hi'^ wings, and 
 • Loured Ih- v. r* : on, ;s id- fvniv. .1 lls lips are 
 
 48 
 

THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 sweet as honey, and his breath is like frank- 
 incense.” 
 
 The Student looked up from the grass, and 
 listened, but he could not understand what the 
 Nightingale was saying to him, for he only 
 knew the things that are written down in books. 
 
 But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, 
 / 
 
 for he was very fond of the little Nightingale 
 who had built her nest in his branches. 
 
 Sing me one last song,” he whispered ; “ I 
 shall feel very lonely when you are gone.” 
 
 So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, 
 and her voice was like water bubbling from a 
 silver jar. 
 
 When she had finished her song, the Student 
 got up, and pulled a note-book and a lead-pencil 
 out of his pocket. 
 
 “She has form,” he said to himself, as he 
 walked away through the grove — “that cannot 
 be denied to her ; but has she got feeling ? I 
 
 49 
 
 G 
 
* 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 am afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists ; 
 she is all style without any sincerity. She 
 would not sacrihce herself for others. She 
 thinks merely of music, and everybody knows 
 that the arts are selfish. Still, it must be ad- 
 mitted that she has some beautiful notes in her 
 voice. What a pity it is that they do not mean 
 anything, or do any practical good.” And he 
 went into his room, and lay down on his little 
 pallet-bed, and began to think of his love ; and, 
 after a time, he fell asleep. 
 
 And when the Moon shone in the heavens 
 the Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and set 
 her breast against the thorn. All night long 
 she sang with her breast against the thorn, and 
 the cold crystal Moon leaned down and listened. 
 All night long she sang and the thorn went 
 deeper and deeper into her breast, and her life- 
 blood ebbed away from her. 
 
 She sang first of the birth of love in the 
 
 50 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 heart of a boy and a girl. And on the top- 
 most spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed 
 a marvellous rose, petal following petal, as song 
 followed song. Pale was it, at first, as the 
 mist that hangs over the river — pale as the feet 
 of the morning, and silver as the wings of the 
 dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of 
 silver, as the shadow of a rose in a water-pool, 
 so was the rose that blossomed on the topmost 
 spray of the Tree. 
 
 But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to 
 press closer against the thorn. “Press closer, 
 little Nightingale,” cried the Tree, “ or the 
 Day will come before the rose is finished.” 
 
 So the Nightingale pressed closer against 
 the thorn, and louder and louder grew her 
 song, for she sang of the birth of passion in 
 the soul of a man and a maid. 
 
 And a delicate flush of pink came into the 
 leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of 
 
 51 
 
THK NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the 
 bride. But the thorn had not yet reached her 
 heart, so the rose’s heart remained white, for 
 only a Nightingale’s heart’s-blood can crimson 
 the heart of a rose. 
 
 And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to 
 press closer against the thorn. ‘‘Press closer, 
 little Nightingale,” cried the Tree, “or the Day 
 will come before the rose is finished.” 
 
 So the Nightingale pressed closer against the 
 thorn, and the thorn touched her heart, and a 
 fierce pang of pain shot through her. Bitter, 
 bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew 
 her song, for she sang of the Love that is 
 perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not 
 in the tomb. 
 
 And the marvellous rose became crimson, 
 like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson 
 was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a 
 ruby was the heart. 
 
 52 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 But the Nightingale’s voice grew fainter, and 
 her little wings began to beat, and a him came 
 over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her 
 song, and she felt something choking her in 
 her throat. 
 
 Then she gave one last burst of music. The 
 white Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, 
 and lingered on in the sky. The red rose 
 heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, 
 and opened its petals to the cold morning air. 
 Echo bore it to her purple cavern in the hills, 
 and woke the sleeping shepherds from their 
 dreams. It floated through the reeds of the 
 river, and they carried its message to the sea. 
 
 “Look, look!” cried the Tree, “the rose is 
 finished now ; ” but the Nightingale made no 
 answer, for she was lying dead in the long grass, 
 with the thorn in her heart. 
 
 And at noon the Student opened his window 
 and looked out. 
 
 53 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 “Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!” 
 he cried; “here is a red rose I I have never 
 seen any rose like it in all my life. It is so 
 beautiful that I am sure it has a long Latin 
 name ; ” and he leaned down and plucked it. 
 
 Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the 
 Professor’s house with the rose in his hand. 
 
 The daughter of the Professor was sitting in 
 the doorway winding blue silk on a reel, and 
 her little dog was lying at her feet. 
 
 “You said that you would dance with me if 
 I brought you a red rose,” cried the Student. 
 “Here is the reddest rose in all the world. 
 You will wear it to-night next your heart, and 
 as we dance together it will tell you how I 
 love you.” 
 
 But the girl frowned. 
 
 “I am afraid it will not go with 
 my dress,” she answered; “and, 
 besides, the Chamberlain’s nephew 
 
 54 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 has sent me some real jewels, and everybody 
 knows that jewels cost far more than flowers.” 
 
 “Well, upon my word, you are very un- 
 grateful,” said the Student angrily ; and he 
 threw the rose into the street, where it fell into 
 the gutter, and a cart-wheel went over it. 
 
 “ Ungrateful ! ” said the girl. “ I tell you 
 what, you are very rude ; and, after all, who 
 are you ? Only a Student. Why, I don’t 
 believe you have even got silver buckles to 
 your shoes as the Chamberlain’s nephew has ; ” 
 and she got up from her chair and went into 
 the house. 
 
 “ What a silly thing Love is,” said the Student 
 as he walked away. “It is not half as useful 
 as Logic, for it does not prove anything, and 
 it is always telling one of things that are not 
 going to happen, and making one believe things 
 that are not true. In fact, it is quite unpractical, 
 and, as in this age to be practical is every- 
 
 5 5 
 
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 thing, I shall go back to Philosophy and study 
 Metaphysics.” 
 
 So he returned to his room and pulled out 
 a great dusty book, and began to read. 
 
 56 
 
1 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 VERY afternoon, as they 
 were coming from school, 
 the children used to go 
 and play in the Giant’s 
 garden. 
 
 It was a large lovely 
 garden, with soft green 
 grass. Here and there over the grass stood 
 beautiful flowers like stars, and there were 
 twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke 
 out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, 
 
 59 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds 
 sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the 
 children used to stop their games in order to 
 listen to them. “How happy we are here!” 
 they cried to each other. 
 
 One day the Giant came back. He had 
 been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and 
 had stayed with him for seven years. After the 
 seven years were over he had said all that he 
 had to say, for his conversation was limited, 
 and he determined to return to his own castle. 
 When he arrived he saw the children playing 
 in the garden. 
 
 “What are you doing here?” he cried in a 
 very gruff voice, and the children ran away. 
 
 “ My own garden is my own garden,” said 
 the Giant; “any one can understand that, and 
 I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.” 
 So he built a high wall all round it, and put 
 up a notice-board. 
 
 6o 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 TRESPASSERS 
 
 WILL BE 
 PROSECUTED 
 
 He was a very selfish Giant. 
 
 The poor children had now nowhere to play. 
 They tried to play on the road, but the road 
 was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they 
 did not like it. They used to wander round 
 the high wall when their lessons were over, and 
 talk about the beautiful garden inside. ‘‘ How 
 happy we were there,” they said to each other. 
 
 Then the Spring came, and all over the 
 country there were little blossoms and little 
 birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant 
 it was still winter. The birds did not care to 
 .sing in it as there were no children, and the 
 trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful fiower 
 put its head out from the grass, but when it saw 
 the notice-board it was so sorry for the children 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 that it slipped back into the ground again, and 
 went od to sleep. The only people who were 
 pleased were the Snow and the Frost. “ Spring 
 has forgotten this garden,” they cried, “ so we 
 will live here all the year round.” The snow 
 covered up the grass with her great white cloak, 
 and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then 
 they invited the North Wind to stay with them, 
 and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and 
 he roared all day about the garden, and blew 
 the chimney-pots down. “This is a delightful 
 spot,” he said, “ we must ask the Hail on a 
 visit.” So the Hail came. Every day for three 
 hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he 
 broke most of the slates, and then he ran round 
 and round the garden as fast as he could go. 
 He was dressed in grey, and his breath was 
 like ice. 
 
 “ I cannot undertand why the Spring is so 
 late in coming,” said the Selfish Giant, as he 
 
 i 
 
 62 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 sat at the window and looked out at his cold 
 white garden ; “I hope there will be a change 
 in the weather.” 
 
 But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. 
 The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, 
 but to the Giant’s garden she gave none. He 
 is too selbsh,” she said. So it was always 
 Winter there, and the North Wind and the 
 Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about 
 through the trees. 
 
 One morning the Giant was lying awake in 
 bed when he heard some lovely music. It 
 sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought 
 it must be the King’s musicians passing by. It 
 was really only a little linnet singing outside 
 his window, but it was so long since he had 
 heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed 
 to him to be the most beautiful music in the 
 world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over 
 his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, 
 
 63 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 and a delicious perfume came to him through 
 the open casement. “ I believe the Spring has 
 come at last,” said the Giant ; and he jumped 
 out of bed and looked out. 
 
 What did he see ? 
 
 He saw a most wonderful sight. Through 
 a little hole in the wall the children had crept 
 in, and they were sitting in the branches of the 
 trees. In every tree that he could see there 
 was a little child. And the trees were so glad 
 to have the children back again that they had 
 covered themselves with blossoms, and were 
 waving their arms gently above the children’s 
 heads. The birds were flying about and twitter- 
 ing with delight, and the flowers were looking 
 up through the green grass and laughing. It 
 was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was 
 still winter. It was the farthest corner of the 
 garden, and in it was standing a little boy. 
 He was so small that he could not reach up to 
 
In every Tree he: could see there was a Little Child 
 
SELFISH GfA\l 
 
 .i;ui a licious pcTfumc camt ;<) liim throup-h 
 r ?v ■ p M ; ;;vcmenr. "" \ bdicvx ilie Spring; has 
 .1 !•% " said the (iiaiit; and he jumjavi 
 
 Oil ot bed. i’iid looked Ollt, 
 
 Wamt dal n? see? 
 
 Ha saw a naaa wonderful sight, Tlii-^iugh 
 a iittie hoi<- in Lk- wall the children had crept 
 in, and they v/ere silting in the branches o» the 
 trees. In every tree that he could see there 
 wn'-' a litiic child. And the trees were so glad 
 c care IK CiUiUivM ='ach. ag^in that they had 
 V -cu:d themselves with blossoms, and were 
 •“. Lev/ ■ licir arms gently above the children’s 
 ne;.-L. The birds were dying about and twirtcr 
 i'ig vvith. delight, and the flowers vyere ievedk ng 
 up through the green grass and laughing. ii. 
 was a lovely scene, only in one corner it K'as 
 siill vvinter. It w?iS tlie farthest conKT of the 
 garden, and in it was standing a little boy. 
 i j./ w;c. so small that he could uot reach up to 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 the branches of the tree, and he was wandering 
 all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree 
 was still quite covered with frost and snow, and 
 the North Wind was blowing and roaring above 
 it. ‘‘Climb up ! little boy,” said the Tree, and 
 it bent its branches down as low as it could ; 
 but the boy was too tiny. 
 
 And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked 
 out. “How sellish I have been!” he said; 
 “now I know why the Spring would not come 
 here. I will put that poor little boy on the 
 top of the tree, and then I will knock down the 
 wall, and my garden shall be the children’s 
 playground for ever and ever.” He was really 
 very sorry for what he had done. 
 
 So he crept downstairs and opened the front 
 door quite softly, and went out into the garden. 
 But when the children saw him they were so 
 frightened that they all ran away, and the gar- 
 den became winter again. Only the little boy 
 

 THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears 
 that he did not see the Giant coming. And 
 the Giant stole up behind him and took him 
 gently in his hand, and put him up into the 
 tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, 
 and the birds came and sang on it, and the 
 little boy stretched out his two arms and flung 
 them round the Giant’s neck, and kissed him. 
 And the other children, when they saw that the 
 Giant was not wicked any longer, came running 
 back, and with them came the Spring. “ It is 
 your garden now, little children,” said the 
 Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked 
 down the wall. And when the people were 
 going to market at twelve o’clock they found 
 the Giant playing with the children in the most 
 beautiful garden they had ever seen. 
 
 All day long they played, and in the evening 
 they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye. 
 
 “But where is your little companion?” he 
 
 66 
 

 THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 said : “the boy I put into the tree.” The 
 Giant loved him the best because he had kissed 
 him. 
 
 “We don’t know,” answered the children; 
 “he has gone away.” 
 
 “You must tell him to be sure and come 
 here to-morrow,” said the Giant. But the 
 children said that they did not know where he 
 lived, and had never seen him before ; and the 
 Giant felt very sad. 
 
 Every afternoon, when school was over, the 
 children came and played with the Giant. But 
 the little boy whom the Giant loved was never 
 seen again. The Giant was very kind to all 
 the children, yet he longed for his first little 
 friend, and often spoke of him. “ How I would 
 like to see him!” he used to say. 
 
 Years went over, and the Giant grew very 
 old and feeble. He could not play about any 
 more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched 
 
 67 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 the children at their games, and admired his 
 garden. “ I have many beautiful flowers,” he 
 said ; ‘‘but the children are the most beautiful 
 flowers of all.” 
 
 One winter morning he looked out of his 
 window as he was dressing. He did not hate 
 the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely 
 the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were 
 resting. 
 
 Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder and 
 looked and looked. It certainly was a marvel- 
 lous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden 
 was a tree quite covered with lovely white 
 blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and 
 silver fruit hung down from them, and under- 
 neath it stood the little boy he had loved. 
 
 Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and 
 out into the garden. He hastened across the 
 grass, and came near to the child. And when 
 he came quite close his face grew red with 
 
 68 
 
The Little Boy he had Loved 
 
 
.vliu ; tlie cliikircn are the rnoa beautiful 
 
 flowers ot all.'’ 
 
 One vve.rcr ;norni ng lie looked ea.a. of his 
 window as he was ^.iressing. He did nor liate 
 the Winter now, for In knew that i? was merely 
 ti'c Spring asleep, and that the th^wers w^ere 
 resting- 
 
 Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder and 
 
 lous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden 
 was a tree quite covered with lovely white 
 blossoms. Its bra Tidies were all golden, and 
 silver fruit hung down from them, and imder- 
 
 Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and 
 out into the t^arden. He hastened across the 
 grass, and came near to the child. And when 
 
 looked and ioo.':ed. it certamly was a marvel- 
 
 ’icntii It ;‘LOod the little bov he had loved. 
 
 me quite close his face 
 
 grev/ red with 
 
 68 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 anger, and he said, “ Who hath dared to wound 
 thee?” For on the palms of the child’s hands 
 were the prints of two nails, and the prints of 
 two nails were on the little feet. 
 
 “Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried 
 the Giant ; “ tell me, that I may take my big 
 sword and slay him.” 
 
 “ Nay ! ” answered the child ; “ but these are 
 the wounds of Love.” 
 
 “Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a 
 strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before 
 the little child. 
 
 And the child smiled on the Giant, and said 
 to him, “You let me play once in your garden, 
 to-day you shall come with me to my garden, 
 which is Paradise.” 
 
 And when the children ran in that afternoon, 
 they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, 
 all covered with white blossoms. 
 
 69 
 

THE 
 
 DEVOTED 
 
 FRIEND 
 
1 
 
 
 f 
 
 ■i 
 
 i 
 
 ' 
 
 ■> 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 NE morning the old 
 Water-rat put his head 
 out of his hole. He had 
 bright beady eyes and 
 stiff grey whiskers and 
 his tail was like a long 
 bit of black india-rubber. 
 The little ducks were swimming about in the 
 pond, looking just like a lot of yellow canaries, 
 and their mother who was pure white with 
 N real red legs, was trying to teach them how 
 to stand on their heads in the water. 
 
 73 
 
 K 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 “You will never be in the best society 
 unless you can stand on your heads,” she kept 
 saying to them ; and every now and then she 
 showed them how it was done. But the little 
 ducks paid no attention to her. They were 
 so young that they did not know what an 
 advantage it is to be in society at all. 
 
 “What disobedient children!” cried the old 
 Water-rat ; “ they really deserve to be drowned.” 
 “Nothing of the kind,” answered the Duck, 
 “every one must make a beginning, and parents 
 cannot be too patient.” 
 
 “ Ah 1 I know nothing about the feelings 
 of parents,” said the Water-rat ; “ I am not 
 a family man. In fact, I have never been 
 married, and I never intend to be. Love is 
 all very well in its way, but friendship is much 
 higher. Indeed, I know of nothing in the 
 world that is either nobler or rarer than a 
 devoted friendship.” 
 
 7 + 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 “And what, pray, is your idea of the duties 
 of a devoted friend ? ” asked a green Linnet, 
 who was sitting in a willow- tree hard by, and 
 had overheard the conversation. 
 
 “Yes, that is just what I want to know,” 
 said the Duck; and she swam away to the 
 end of the pond, and stood upon her head, in 
 order to give her children a good example. 
 
 “What a silly question!” cried the Water- 
 rat. “ I should expect my devoted friend to 
 be devoted to me, of course.” 
 
 “And what would you do in return?” 
 said the little bird, swinging upon a silver 
 spray, and flapping his tiny wings. 
 
 “ I don’t understand you,” answered the 
 Water-rat. 
 
 “Let me tell you a story on the subject,” 
 said the Linnet. 
 
 “Is the story about me?” asked the Water- 
 rat. “If so, I will listen to it, for I am 
 
 75 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 extremely fond of fiction.” 
 
 “It is applicable to you,” answered the 
 Linnet ; and he llew down, and alighting upon 
 the bank, he told the story of The Devoted 
 Friend. 
 
 “Once upon a time,” said the Linnet, 
 “ there was an honest little fellow named 
 Hans.” 
 
 “Was he very distinguished?” asked the 
 Water-rat. 
 
 “No,” answered the Linnet, “I don’t think 
 he was distinguished at all, except for his kind 
 heart, and his funny round good-humoured 
 face. He lived in a tiny cottage all by him- 
 self, and every day he worked in his garden. 
 In all the country-side there was no garden 
 so lovely as his. Sweet-william grew there, 
 and Gilly-flowers, and Shepherds’-purses, and 
 Fair-maids of France. There were damask 
 Roses, and yellow Roses, lilac Crocuses, and 
 
-'Mr "'’ r,- • « 4l 
 
v'RIiiND 
 
 •. Ti < .') l! '. t!On. 
 
 (■ !s avphral'K: ro you, ' aru^wered the 
 
 ■ ■ ' . <iown, and alighting upoj} 
 
 . ia -id j,ho btory of I'he Devoted 
 
 • • ■ e ••pan trme,” said the Linjiet, 
 -< ■ d..yiU'-?t little fellow named 
 
 y ' 
 
 ■ vixihiguished ?” asked the 
 
 ' ;'.;t 
 
 ^h■>, :o- -eo e ;*k. Linnet, don’t think 
 he was de>tr’ga; diei- :U all, except for his kind 
 heart, ano hv. nmr,y • i.^d good-humoured 
 face. He ,r> a i ottage all by him- 
 
 ' ik and e- ajv dnv w akod in his garden, 
 k ; lie fonntrv side there, was no garden 
 ■' iO/:;:'; a- tus. -Swcci-wilham grew there, 
 Ldi-. drvvers, and Sheplitrds’ -purses, and 
 '• i‘'-nd nf France. Tlicre were damask 
 - Rrn>es, lilac Crocuses, and 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 gold, purple Violets and white. Columbine 
 and Lady smock, Marjoram and Wild Basil, the 
 Cowslip and the Flower-de-luce, the Daffodil 
 and the Clove-Pink bloomed or blossomed in 
 their proper order as the months went by, one 
 flower taking another flower’s place, so that 
 there were always beautiful things to look at, 
 and pleasant odours to smell. 
 
 “Little Hans had a great many friends, but 
 the most devoted friend of all was big Hugh 
 the Miller. Indeed, so devoted was the rich 
 Miller to little Hans, that he would never go 
 by his garden without leaning over the wall 
 and plucking a large nosegay, or a handful of 
 sweet herbs, or filling his pockets with plums 
 and cherries if it was the fruit season. 
 
 “ ‘ Real friends should have everything in 
 common,’ the Miller used to say, and little 
 Hans nodded and smiled, and felt very proud 
 of having a friend with such noble ideas. 
 
 77 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 “Sometimes, indeed, the neighbours thought 
 it strange that the rich Miller never gave little 
 Hans anything in return, though he had a 
 hundred sacks of flour stored away in his mill, 
 and six milch cows, and a large flock of woolly 
 sheep ; but Hans never troubled his head about 
 these things, and nothing gave him greater 
 pleasure than to listen to all the wonderful 
 things the Miller used to say about the unselfish- 
 ness of true friendship. 
 
 “ So little Hans worked away in his garden. 
 During the spring, the summer, and the autumn 
 he was very happy, but when the winter came, 
 and he had no fruit or flowers to bring to the 
 market, he suffered a good deal from 
 cold and hunger, and often had to go 
 to bed without any supper but a few 
 dried pears or some hard nuts. In the 
 winter, also, he was extremely lonely, 
 as the Miller never came to see him then. 
 78 
 
 
 
 
THE DEVOTED ERIEND 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ There is no good in my going to see little 
 Hans as long as the snow lasts,’ the Miller used 
 to say to his wife, ‘ for when people are in 
 trouble they should be left alone and not be 
 bothered by visitors. That at least is my idea 
 about friendship, and I am sure I am right. 
 So I shall wait till the spring comes, and then 
 I shall pay him a visit, and he will be able to 
 give me a large basket of primroses, and that 
 will make him so happy.’ 
 
 “‘You are certainly very thoughtful about 
 others,’ answered the Wife, as she sat in her 
 comfortable armchair by the big pinewood 
 fire ; ‘ very thoughtful indeed. It is quite a 
 treat to hear you talk about friendship. I am 
 sure the clergyman himself could not say such 
 beautiful things as you do, though he does 
 live in a three-storied house, and wear a gold 
 ring on his little finger.’ 
 
 “ ‘ But could we not ask little Hans up 
 
 79 
 
THE DEVOTED ERIEND 
 
 here ? ’ said the Miller’s youngest son. ‘ If 
 poor Hans is in trouble I will give him half 
 my porridge, and show him my white rabbits.’ 
 “‘What a silly boy you are’! cried the 
 Miller ; ‘ I really don’t know what is the use 
 of sending you to school. You seem not to 
 learn anything. Why, if little Hans came up 
 here, and saw our warm fire, and our good 
 supper, and our great cask of red wine, he 
 might get envious, and envy is a most terrible 
 thing, and would spoil anybody’s nature. I 
 certainly will not allow Hans’ nature to be 
 spoiled. I am his best friend, and I will 
 always watch over him, and see that he is not 
 led into any temptations. Besides, if Hans 
 came here, he might ask me to let him have 
 some flour on credit, and that I could not do. 
 Flour is one thing, and friendship is another, 
 and they should not be confused. Why, the 
 words are spelt differently, and mean quite 
 
 — 8 O 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 different things. Everbody can see that.’ 
 
 ‘‘‘How well you talk’! said the Miller’s 
 Wife, pouring herself out a large glass of warm 
 ale ; ‘ really I feel quite drowsy. It is just 
 like being in church.’ 
 
 “‘Lots of people act well,’ answered the 
 Miller; ‘but very few people talk well, which 
 shows that talking is much the more difficult 
 thing of the two, and much the finer thing 
 also ; ’ and he looked sternly across the table 
 at his little son, who felt so ashamed of him- 
 self that he hung his head down, and grew 
 quite scarlet, and began to cry into his tea. 
 However, he was so young that you must 
 excuse him.” 
 
 “Is that the end of the story.?” asked the 
 Water-rat. 
 
 “Certainly not,” answered the Linnet, “that 
 is the beginning.” 
 
 “Then you are quite behind the age,” said 
 
 L 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 the Water-rat. ‘‘ Every good story-teller 
 nowadays starts with the end, and then goes 
 on to the beginning, and concludes with the 
 middle. That is the new method. I heard 
 all about it the other day from a critic who 
 was walking round the pond with a young 
 man. He spoke of the matter at great length, 
 and I am sure he must have been right, for he 
 had blue spectacles and a bald head, and when- 
 ever the young man made any remark, he 
 always answered ‘ Pooh ! ’ But. pray go on with 
 your story. I like the Miller 
 immensely. I have all kinds of 
 beautiful sentiments myself, so 
 there is a great sympathy between 
 
 59 
 
 US. 
 
 “Well,” said the Linnet, hop- 
 ping now on one leg and now 
 on the other, “as soon as the 
 winter was over, and the primroses 
 
 82 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 began to open their pale yellow stars, the Miller 
 said to his wife that he would go down and see 
 little Hans. 
 
 ‘‘‘Why, what a good heart you have’! 
 cried his Wife ; ‘ you are always thinking of 
 others. And mind you take the big basket 
 with you for the flowers.’ 
 
 “ So the Miller tied the sails of the windmill 
 together with a strong iron chain, and went 
 down the hill with the basket on his arm. 
 
 “‘Good morning, little Hans,’ said the 
 Miller. 
 
 “‘Good morning,’ said Hans, leaning on 
 his spade, and smiling from ear to ear. 
 
 “‘And how have you been all the winter?’ 
 said the Miller. 
 
 “‘Well, really,’ cried Hans, ‘it is very good 
 of you to ask, very good indeed. I am afraid 
 I had rather a hard time of it, but now the 
 spring has come, and I am quite happy, and 
 
 83 
 
THE DE\^OTED FRIEND 
 
 all my flowers are doing well.’ 
 
 “ ‘ We often talked of you during the winter, 
 Hans,’ said the Miller, ‘and wondered how 
 you were getting on.’ 
 
 “‘That was kind of you,’ said Hans; ‘I 
 w'as half afraid you had forgotten me.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Hans, I am surprised at you,’ said the 
 Miller; ‘friendship never forgets. That is 
 the wonderful thing about it, but I am afraid 
 you don’t understand the poetry of life. How 
 lovely your primroses are looking, by-the-bye ! ” 
 “‘They are certainly very lovely,’ said 
 Hans, ‘and it is a most lucky thing for me 
 that I have so many. I am going to bring 
 them into the market and sell them to the 
 Burgomaster’s daughter, and buy back my 
 wheelbarrow with the money.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Buy back your wheelbarrow ? You don’t 
 mean to say you have sold it ? What a very 
 stupid thing to do ! ’ 
 
 84 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 “‘Well, the fact is,’ said Hans, ‘that I was 
 obliged to. You see the winter was a very 
 bad time for me, and I really had no money 
 at all to buy bread with. So I hrst sold the 
 silver buttons off my Sunday coat, and then I 
 sold my silver chain, and then I sold my big 
 pipe, and at last I sold my wheelbarrow. But 
 I am going to buy them all back again 
 now.’ 
 
 “‘Hans,’ said the Miller, ‘I will give you 
 my wheelbarrow. It is not in very good 
 repair ; indeed, one side is gone, and there is 
 something wrong with the wheel-spokes ; but 
 in spite of that I will give it to you. I know 
 it is very generous of me, and a great many 
 people would think me extremely foolish for 
 parting with it, but I am not like the rest of 
 the world. I think that generosity is the 
 essence of friendship, and, besides, I have got 
 a new wheelbarrow for myself. Yes, you may 
 
 85 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 set your mind at ease, I will give you my 
 wheelbarrow.’ 
 
 ‘‘‘ Well, really, that is generous of you,’ said 
 little Hans, and his funny round face glowed 
 all over with pleasure. ‘ I can easily put 
 it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in the 
 house.’ 
 
 ‘‘‘A plank of wood’! said the Miller; 
 ‘why, that is just what I want for the roof of 
 my barn. There is a very large hole in it, 
 and the corn will all get damp if I don’t stop 
 it up. How lucky you mentioned it ! It is 
 quite remarkable how one good action always 
 breeds another. I have given you my wheel- 
 barrow, and now you are going to give me 
 your plank. Of course, the wheelbarrow is 
 worth far more than the plank, but true friend- 
 ship never notices things like that. Pray get 
 it at once, and I will set to work at my barn 
 this very day.’ 
 
 86 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Certainly,’ cried little Hans, and he ran 
 into the shed and dragged the plank out. 
 
 “ ‘ It is not a very big plank,’ said the 
 Miller, looking at it, ‘and I am afraid that 
 after I have mended my barn-roof there won’t 
 be any left for you to mend the wheelbarrow 
 with ; but, of course, that is not my fault. 
 And now, as I have given you my wheelbarrow, 
 I am sure you would like to give me some 
 flowers in return. Here is the basket, and 
 mind you fill it quite full.’ 
 
 “‘Quite full?’ said little Hans, rather 
 sorrowfully, for it was really a very big basket, 
 and he knew that if he filled it he would have 
 no flowers left for the market, and he was 
 very anxious to get his silver buttons back. 
 
 “‘Well, really,’ answered the Miller, ‘as I 
 have given you my wheelbarrow, I don’t think 
 that it is much to ask you for a few flowers. 
 I may be wrong, but I should have thought 
 
 87 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 that friendship, true friendship, was quite free 
 from selhshness of any kind.’ 
 
 “ ‘ My dear friend, my best friend,’ cried 
 little Hans, ‘ you are welcome to all the 
 dowers in my garden. I would much sooner 
 have your good opinion than my silver 
 buttons, any day;’ and he ran and plucked 
 all his pretty primroses, and filled the Miller’s 
 basket. 
 
 ‘‘‘Good-bye, little Hans,’ said the Miller, 
 as he went up the hill with the plank on his 
 shoulder, and the big basket in his hand. 
 
 “ ‘ Good-bye,’ said little Hans, and he began 
 to dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased 
 about the wheelbarrow. 
 
 “The next day he was nailing up some 
 honeysuckle against the porch, when he heard 
 the Miller’s voice calling to him from the road. 
 So he jumped offi the ladder, and ran down 
 the garden, and looked over the wall. 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 “There was the Miller with a large sack 
 of flour on his back. 
 
 “‘Dear little Hans,’ said the Miller, ‘would 
 you mind carrying this sack of flour for me 
 to market ? ’ 
 
 “‘Oh, I am so sorry,’ said Hans, ‘but I am 
 really very busy to-day. I have got all my 
 creepers to nail up, and all my flowers to 
 water, and all my grass to roll.’ 
 
 “‘Well, really,’ said the Miller, ‘I think 
 that, considering that I am going to give you 
 my wheelbarrow, it is rather unfriendly of you 
 to refuse.’ 
 
 ‘“Oh, don’t say that,’ cried little Hans, ‘I 
 wouldn’t be unfriendly for the whole world ; ’ 
 and he ran in for his cap, and trudged ofl" with 
 the big sack on his shoulders. 
 
 “It was a very hot day, and the road was 
 terribly dusty, and before Hans had reached 
 the sixth milestone he was so tired that he had 
 
 89 
 
 M 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 to sit down and rest. However, he went on 
 bravely, and at last he reached the market. 
 After he had waited there some time, he sold 
 the sack of flour for a very good price, and 
 then he returned home at once, for he was 
 afraid that if he stopped too late he might meet 
 some robbers on the way. 
 
 “ Ht has certainly been a hard day,’ said 
 little Hans to himself as he was going to bed, 
 ‘ but I am glad I did not refuse the Miller, 
 for he is my best friend, and, besides, he is 
 going to give me his wheelbarrow.’ 
 
 ‘‘ Early the next morning the Miller came 
 down to get the money for his sack of flour, 
 but little Hans was so tired that he was still 
 in bed. 
 
 ‘‘‘Upon my word,’ said the Miller, ‘you 
 are very lazy. Really, considering that I am 
 going to give you my wheelbarrow, I think 
 you might work harder. Idleness is a great 
 
 90 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 sin, and I certainly don’t like any of my friends 
 to be idle or sluggish. You must not mind 
 my speaking quite plainly to you. Of course 
 I should not dream of doing so if I were not 
 your friend. But what is the good of friend- 
 ship if one cannot say exactly what one means ? 
 Anybody can say charming things and try to 
 please and to flatter, but a true friend always 
 says unpleasant things, and does not mind 
 giving pain. Indeed, if he is a really true 
 friend he prefers it, for he knows that then he 
 is doing good.’ 
 
 ‘‘‘I am very sorry,’ said little Hans rubbing 
 his eyes and pulling olf his night-cap, ‘but I 
 was so tired that I thought I would lie in bed 
 for a little time, and listen to the birds singing. 
 Do you know that I always work better after 
 hearing the birds sing.?*’ 
 
 “‘Well, I am glad of that,’ said the Miller, 
 clapping little Hans on the back, ‘for I want 
 
 91 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 you to come up to the mill as soon as you are 
 dressed and mend my barn-roof for me.’ 
 
 “Poor little Hans was very anxious to go 
 and work in his garden, for his flowers had 
 not been watered for two days, but he did not 
 like to refuse the Miller as he was such a good 
 friend to him. 
 
 “‘Do you think it would be unfriendly of 
 me if I said I was busy ? ’ he inquired in a shy 
 and timid voice. 
 
 “ ‘ Well, really,’ answered the Miller, ‘ I do not 
 think it is much to ask of you, considering that 
 I am going to give you my wheelbarrow ; but of 
 course if you refuse I will go and do it myself.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Oh ! on no account,’ cried little Hans ; 
 and he jumped out of bed, and dressed him- 
 self, and went up to the barn. 
 
 “ He worked there all day long, till sunset, 
 and at sunset the Miller came to see how he 
 was getting on. 
 
 92 
 

THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 you to conu; up to the rsiill as soon as you are 
 dressed and mend my barn-root tor me.’ 
 
 ‘‘Poor litiin fdans was very anxious to ^'o 
 and work in ins garden, for his dowers had. 
 not been watered for two days, but he did ne^r 
 like to refuse the Miller as he was such a good 
 iiiend to him.- 
 
 ‘“Do you think it wtniid be unfriendly of 
 in- !i I said I was busy?’ he inquired in a shy 
 
 and. tii’ud voice. 
 
 d], real.iy, ar.swered !heMiller,‘ I do not 
 think it is much to ask ot you, considerino- that 
 I am going to give you rnv wheelbarrow ; but of 
 course if you refuse I will go and do it myself.’ 
 “‘Oh! on no accou.nr,’ cried, little Hans ; 
 and he jumped out of bed, and dressed him- 
 self, and went up to the barn. 
 
 “He worked there all day long, till sunset, 
 and at smrset the Miller came to see how he 
 
1 
 
 ;■} 
 
 . I 
 
 '1 
 
 
 • ■ ■ "i 
 
 j 
 
 '■t 
 
 ■ 'i 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Have you mended the hole in the roof 
 yet, little Hans?’ cried the Miller in a cheery 
 voice. 
 
 ‘ It is quite mended,’ answered little Hans, 
 coming down the ladder. 
 
 “^Ah!’ said the Miller, ‘there is no work 
 so delightful as the work one does for others.’ 
 
 “ ‘ It is certainly a great privilege to hear 
 you talk,’ answered little Hans sitting down 
 and wiping his forehead, ‘a very great privilege. 
 But I am afraid I shall never have such beautiful 
 ideas as you have.’ 
 
 “ ‘ Oh ! they will come to you,’ said the 
 Miller, ‘but you must take more pains. At 
 present you have only the practice of friend- 
 ship ; some day you will have the theory also.’ 
 
 “‘Do you really think I shall?’ asked little 
 Hans. 
 
 “ ‘ I have no doubt of it,’ answered the 
 Miller, ‘but now that you have mended the 
 
 93 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 roof, you had better go home and rest, for I 
 want you to drive my sheep to the mountain 
 to-morrow.’ 
 
 “Poor little Hans was afraid to say any- 
 thing to this, and early the next morning the 
 Miller brought his sheep round to the cottage, 
 and Hans started olf with them to the mountain. 
 It took him the whole day to get there and 
 back ; and when he returned he was so tired 
 that he went off to sleep in his chair, and did 
 not wake up till it was broad daylight. 
 
 “‘What a delightful time I shall have in 
 my garden,’ he said, and he went to work at 
 once. 
 
 ' “ But somehow he was never able to look 
 
 after his flowers at all, for his friend the 
 Miller was always coming round and sending 
 him off on long errands, or getting him to 
 help at the mill. Little Hans was very much 
 distressed at times, as he was afraid his flowers 
 
 94 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 would think he had forgotten them, but he 
 consoled himself by the reflection that the 
 Miller was his best friend. ‘ Besides,’ he used 
 to say, ‘ he is going to give me his wheelbarrow, 
 and that is an act of pure generosity.’ 
 
 So little Hans worked away for the Miller, 
 and the Miller said all kinds of beautiful things 
 about friendship, which Hans took down in 
 a notebook, and used to read over at night, 
 for he was a very good scholar. 
 
 “Now it happened that one evening little 
 Hans was sitting by his fireside when a loud 
 rap came at the door. It was a very wild 
 night, and the wind was blowing and roaring 
 round the house so terribly that at first he 
 thought it was merely the storm. But a second 
 rap came, and then a third, louder than any of 
 the others. 
 
 “ ‘ It is some poor traveller,’ said little Hans 
 to himself, and he ran to the door. 
 
 95 
 
THE DE\^OTED FRIEND 
 
 “There stood the Miller with a lantern in 
 one hand and a big stick in the other. 
 
 “‘Dear little Hans,’ cried the Miller, ‘I am 
 in great trouble. My little boy has fallen off 
 a ladder and hurt himself, and I am going for 
 the Doctor. But he lives so far away, and it 
 is such a bad night, that it has just occurred 
 to me that it would be much better if you 
 went instead of me. You know I am going 
 to give you my wheelbarrow, and so it is only 
 fair that you should do something for me in 
 return.’ 
 
 “‘Certainly,’ cried little Hans, ‘I take it 
 quite as a compliment your coming to me, 
 and I will start off at once. But you must 
 lend me your lantern, as the night is so dark 
 that I am afraid I might fall into the ditch.’ 
 
 ‘“I am very sorry,’ answered the Miller, 
 ‘ but it is my new lantern and it would be a 
 great loss to me if anything happened to it.’ 
 
 96 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 “‘Well, never mind, I will do without it,’ 
 cried little Hans, and he took down his great 
 fiir coat, and his warm scarlet cap, and tied a 
 muffler round his throat, and started off. 
 
 “What a dreadful storm it was! The night 
 was so black that little Hans could hardly see, 
 and the wind was so strong that he could 
 scarcely stand. However, he was very coura- 
 geous, and after he had been walking about 
 three hours, he arrived at the Doctor’s house, 
 and knocked at the door. 
 
 “‘Who is there ?’ cried the Doctor, putting 
 his head out of his bedroom window. 
 
 “ ‘ Little Hans, Doctor.’ 
 
 “ ‘ What do you want, little Hans ? ’ 
 
 “ ‘ The Miller’s son has fallen from a ladder, 
 and has hurt himself, and the Miller wants 
 you to come at once.’ 
 
 ‘“All right!’ said the Doctor; and he 
 ordered his horse, and his big boots, and his 
 
 97 
 
 N 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 lantern, and came downstairs, and rode off in 
 the direction of the Miller’s house, little Hans 
 trudmng behind him. 
 
 O O 
 
 “ But the storm grew worse and worse, and 
 the rain fell in torrents, and little Hans could 
 not see where he was going, or keep up with 
 the horse. At last he lost his way, and wan- 
 dered off on the moor, which was a very 
 dangerous place, as it was full of deep holes, 
 and there poor little Hans was drowned. His 
 body was found the next day by some goat- 
 herds, floating in a great pool of water, and 
 was brought back by them to the cottage. 
 
 ‘‘Everybody went to little Hans’ funeral, 
 as he was so popular, and the Miller was the 
 chief mourner. 
 
 “‘As I was his best friend,’ said the Miller, 
 ‘ it is only fair that I should have the best 
 place ; ’ so he walked at the head of the pro- 
 cession in a long black cloak, and every now 
 
 98 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 and then he wiped his eyes with a big pocket- 
 handkerchief. 
 
 ‘‘‘Little Hans is certainly a great loss to 
 every one,’ said the Blacksmith, when the 
 funeral was over, and they were all seated 
 comfortably in the inn, drinking spiced wine 
 and eating sweet cakes. 
 
 “‘A great loss to me at any rate,’ answered 
 the Miller,- ‘why, I had as good as given him 
 my wheelbarrow, and now I really don’t know 
 what to do with it. It is very much in my 
 way at home, and it is in such bad repair that 
 I could not get anything for it if I sold it. 
 I will certainly take care not to give away 
 anything again. One always suffers for being 
 generous.’ ” 
 
 “ Well said the Water-rat, after a long pause. 
 
 “Well, that is the end,” said the Linnet. 
 
 “But what became of the Miller?” asked 
 the Water-rat. 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 “ Oh ! I really don’t know,” replied the 
 Linnet; ‘Land I am sure that I don’t care.” 
 
 “It is quite evident then that you have no 
 sympathy in your nature,” said the Water-rat. 
 
 “I am afraid you don’t quite see the moral 
 of the story,” remarked the Linnet. 
 
 “The what?” screamed the Water-rat. 
 
 “ The moral.” 
 
 “ Do you mean to say that the story has a 
 moral ? ” 
 
 “Certainly,” said the Linnet. 
 
 “Well, really,” said the Water-rat, in a very 
 angry manner, “I think you should have told 
 me that before you began. If you had done 
 so, I certainly would not have listened to you ; 
 in fact, I should have said ‘ Pooh,’ like the 
 critic. However, I can say it now ; ” so he 
 shouted out “Pooh” at the top of his voice, 
 gave a whisk with his tail, and went back into 
 his hole. 
 
 lOO 
 
THE DEVOTED FRIEND 
 
 “And how do you like the Water-rat?” 
 asked the Duek, who came paddling up some 
 minutes afterwards. “He has a great many 
 good points, but for my own part I have a 
 mother’s feelings, and I can never look at a 
 confirmed bachelor without the tears coming 
 into my eyes.” 
 
 “ I am rather afraid that I have annoyed 
 him,” answered the Linnet. “The fact is, that 
 I told him a story with a moral.” 
 
 “ Ah ! that is always a very dangerous thing 
 to do,” said the Duck. 
 
 And I quite agree with her. 
 
THE 
 
 REMARKABLE 
 
 ROCKET 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 HE King’s son was going 
 to be married, so there 
 were general rejoicings. 
 He had waited a whole 
 year for his bride, and 
 at last she had arrived. 
 She was a Russian Prin- 
 cess, and had driven all the way from Finland in 
 a sledge drawn by six reindeer. The sledge was 
 shaped like a great golden swan, and between 
 the swan’s wings lay the little Princess herself. 
 Her long ermine cloak reached right down to 
 
 105 
 
 o 
 
1 
 
 THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 her feet, on her head was a tiny cap of silver 
 tissue, and she was as pale as the Snow Palace 
 in which she had always lived. So pale was 
 she that as she drove through the streets all the 
 people wondered. “She is like a white rose!” 
 they cried, and they threw down flowers on her 
 from the balconies. 
 
 At the gate of the Castle the Prince was 
 waiting to receive her. He had dreamy violet 
 eyes, and his hair was like fine gold. When 
 he saw her he sank upon one knee, and kissed 
 her hand. 
 
 “ Your picture was beautiful,” he murmured, 
 “ but you are more beautiful than your picture; ” 
 and the little Princess blushed. 
 
 “She was like a white rose before,” said a 
 young page to his neighbour, “but she is like 
 a red rose now ; ” and the whole Court was 
 delighted. 
 
 For the next three days everybody went 
 
ri?'- ROi.Xr 
 
 h«T rct-r, on iwT ?u:a'^ i' .’b u rin v >';.•! 
 
 ii^er 
 
 * ’VMiC, a.nd Silc W:?v ■•(••• i.>a; V U> (AC 
 
 m 
 
 which she Ind : h 
 
 
 Me*/ 
 
 rliat as slie drove 
 
 h the stree 
 
 go; 
 
 •pic wondered. ‘•'Shcr'. 1 
 
 ike c whit 
 
 rhe 
 
 V cried, and they threw vl 
 
 .'HU ilowe: 
 
 
 T) the balconies. 
 
 
 f^aie was 
 
 A 
 
 ru) the 
 
 , ^ 5 55 
 
 V rose I 
 IS on her 
 
 At t!:c gate of the Casdc the Pnnee was 
 waith^^ to receis'e her. He liad dreamy violet 
 eyes, and his hair was like bne gold. When 
 he vivv her he sank upon one knee, and kissed 
 her hand. 
 
 Your picture was beautilul,” he murmured, 
 hut you are more beautiful than your picture; ” 
 iL'ni the little Princess blushed, 
 
 'She was like a white rose before,” said a 
 •vt'iung page to his neighbour, ‘‘but she is like 
 a ;Cvi r')r,c: now;” and the whole Court was 
 Uuiyiited. • 
 
 dw next three days everybody went 
 
**v 
 
 * 
 

THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 about saying, White rose, Red rose. Red rose. 
 White rose and the King gave orders that the 
 Page’s salary was to be doubled. As he reeeived 
 no salary at all this was not of much use to him, 
 but it was considered a great honour, and was 
 duly published in the Court Gazette. 
 
 When the three days were over the marriage 
 was celebrated. It was a magnificent ceremony, 
 and the bride and bridegroom walked hand in 
 hand under a canopy of purple velvet em- 
 broidered with little pearls. Then there was a 
 State Banquet, which lasted for five hours. 
 The Prince and Princess sat at the top of the 
 Great Hall and drank out of a cup of clear 
 crystal. Only true lovers could drink out of 
 this cup, for if false lips touched it, it grew 
 grey and dull and cloudy. 
 
 ‘Ht is quite clear that they love each other,” 
 said the little Page, ‘‘as clear as crystal!” and 
 the King doubled his salary a second time. 
 
 107 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 “What an honour!” cried all the courtiers. 
 After the banquet there was to be a Ball. 
 The bride and bridegroom were to dance the 
 Rose-dance together, and the King had prom- 
 ised to play the Bute. He played very badly, 
 but no one had ever dared to tell him so, 
 because he was the King. Indeed, he knew 
 only two airs, and was never quite certain which 
 one he was playing ; but it made no matter, 
 for, whatever he did, everybody cried out, 
 “Charming! charming!” 
 
 The last item on the progamme was a grand 
 display of Breworks, to be let off exactly at 
 midnight. The little Princess had never seen 
 a Brework in her life, so the King had given 
 orders that the Royal Pyroteehnist should be 
 in attendance on the day of her marriage. 
 
 “What are fireworks like.?^” she had asked 
 the Prince, one morning, as she was walking 
 on the terrace. 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 ‘‘They are like the Aurora Borealis,” said 
 the King, who always answered questions that 
 were addressed to other people, “only much 
 more natural. I prefer them to stars myself, 
 as you always know when they are going to 
 appear, and they are as delightful as my own 
 flute-playing. You must certainly see them.” 
 So at the end of the King’s garden a great 
 stand had been set up, and as soon as the Royal 
 Pyrotechnist had put everything in its proper 
 place, the fireworks began to talk to each 
 other. 
 
 “ The world is certainly very beautiful,” 
 cried a little Squib. “Just look at those yellow 
 tulips. Why ! if they were real Crackers they 
 could not be lovelier. I am very glad I have 
 travelled. Travel improves the mind wonder- 
 fully, and does away with all one’s prejudices.” 
 “The King’s garden is not the world, you 
 foolish squib,” said a big Roman Candle ; “ the 
 
 109 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 world is an enormous place, and it would take 
 you three days to see it thoroughly.” 
 
 ‘‘Any place you love is the world to you,” 
 exclaimed the pensive Catherine Wheel, who 
 had been attached to an old deal box in early 
 life, and prided herself on her broken heart ; 
 “ but love is not fashionable any more, the poets 
 have killed it. They wrote so much about it 
 that nobody believed them, and I am not sur- 
 prised. True love suffers, and is silent. I 
 
 remember myself once But it is no matter 
 
 now. Romance is a thing of the past.” 
 
 “ Nonsense ! ” said the Roman Candle, “ Ro- 
 mance never dies. It is like the moon, and 
 lives for ever. The bride and bridegroom, for 
 instance, love each other very dearly. I heard all 
 about them this morning from a brown-paper 
 cartridge, who happened to be staying in the 
 same drawer as myself, and he knew the latest 
 Court news.” 
 
 I lO 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 But the Catherine Wheel shook her head. 
 ‘‘ Romance is dead, Romance is dead, Romance 
 is dead,” she murmured. She was one of those 
 people who think that, if you say the same thing 
 over and over a great many times, it becomes 
 true in the end. 
 
 Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard, and 
 they all looked round. 
 
 It came from a tall, supercilious-looking 
 Rocket, who was tied to the end of a long 
 stick. He always coughed before he made any 
 observation, so as to attract attention. 
 
 “Ahem! ahem!” he said, and everybody 
 listened except the poor Catherine Wheel, who 
 was still shaking her head, and murmuring, 
 “ Romance is dead.” 
 
 “ Order! order! ” cried out a Cracker. He was 
 something of a politician, and had always taken a 
 prominent part in the local elections, so he knew 
 the proper Parliamentary expressions to use. 
 
 V 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 “Quite dead,” whispered the Catherine 
 Wheel, and she went off to sleep. 
 
 As soon as there was perfect silence, the 
 Rocket coughed a third time and began. He 
 spoke with a very slow, distinct voice, as if he 
 was dictating his memoirs, and always looked 
 over the shoulder of the person to whom he was 
 talking. In fact, he had a most distinguished 
 manner. 
 
 “ How fortunate it is for the King’s son,” 
 he remarked, “that he is to be married on the 
 very day on which I am to be let off. Really, 
 if it had been arranged beforehand, it could 
 not have turned out better for him ; but Princes 
 are always lucky.” 
 
 “ Dear me ! ” said the little Squib, “ I thought 
 it was quite the other way, and that we were 
 to be let off in the Prince’s honour.” 
 
 “It may be so with you,” he answered; 
 “indeed, I have no doubt that it is, but with 
 
 I I 2 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 me it is different. I am a very remarkable 
 Rocket, and come of remarkable parents. My 
 mother was the most celebrated Catherine Wheel 
 of her day, and was renowned for her graceful 
 dancing. When she made her great public 
 appearance she spun round nineteen times before 
 she went out, and each time that she did so she 
 threw into the air seven pink stars. She was 
 three feet and a half in diameter, and made of 
 the very best gunpowder. My father was a 
 Rocket like myself, and of French extraction. 
 He flew so high that the people were afraid that 
 he would never come down again. He did, 
 though, for he was of a kindly disposition, and 
 he made a most brilliant descent in a shower of 
 golden rain. The newspapers wrote about his 
 performance in very flattering terms. Indeed, 
 the Court Gazette called him a triumph of 
 Pylotechnic art.” 
 
 ‘‘Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean,” said 
 
 113 p 
 
 
 
 • Ifr 
 
 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 a Bengal Light ; ‘‘ I know it is Pyrotechnic, for 
 I saw it written on my own canister.” 
 
 “Well, I said Pylotechnic,” answered the 
 Rocket, in a severe tone of voice, and the 
 Bengal Light felt so crushed that he began at 
 once to bully the little squibs, in order to show 
 that he was still a person of some importance. 
 
 “ I was saying,” continued the Rocket, “ I 
 
 was saying What was I saying ? ” 
 
 “You were talking about yourself,” replied 
 the Roman Candle. 
 
 “Of course ; I knew I was discussing some 
 interesting subject when I was so rudely inter- 
 rupted. I hate rudeness and bad manners of 
 every kind, for I am extremely sensitive. No 
 one in the whole world is so sensitive as I am, 
 I am quite sure of that.” 
 
 “ What is a sensitive person ? ” said the 
 Cracker to the Roman Candle. 
 
 “ A person who, because he has corns 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 himself, always treads on other people’s toes,” 
 answered the Roman Candle in a low whisper ; 
 and the Cracker nearly exploded with laughter. 
 
 “ Pray, what are you laughing at ? ” inquired 
 the Rocket ; “ I am not laughing.” 
 
 “ I am laughing because I am happy,” replied 
 the Cracker. 
 
 “That is a very selfish reason,” said the 
 Rocket angrily. “What right have you to be 
 happy? You should be thinking about others. 
 In fact, you should be thinking about me. I 
 am always thinking about myself, and I expect 
 everybody else to do the same. That is what 
 is called sympathy. It is a beautiful virtue, and 
 I possess it in a high degree. Suppose, for 
 instance, anything happened to me to-night, 
 what a misfortune that would be for every one ! 
 The Prince and Princess would never be happy 
 again, their whole married life would be spoiled; 
 and as for the King, I know he would not get 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 over it. Really, when I begin to reflect on 
 the importance of my position, I am almost 
 moved to tears.” 
 
 ‘‘If you want to give pleasure to others,” 
 cried the Roman Candle, “you had better keep 
 yourself dry.” 
 
 “Certainly,” exclaimed the Bengal Light, 
 who was now in better spirits; “that is only 
 
 common sense. 
 
 “ Common sense, indeed ! ” said the Rocket 
 indignantly; “you forget that I am very un- 
 common, and very remarkable. Why, anybody 
 can have common sense, provided that they 
 have no imagination. But I have imagination, 
 for I never think of things as they really are ; 
 I always think of them as being quite diflerent. 
 As for keeping myself dry, there is evidently 
 no one here who can at all appreciate an 
 emotional nature. Fortunately for myself, I 
 don’t care. The only thing that sustains one 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 through life is the eonsciousness of the immense 
 inferiority of everybody else, and this is a 
 feeling I have always cultivated. 
 
 But none of you have any hearts. 
 
 Here you are laughing and making 
 merry just as if the Prince and 
 Princess had not just been married.” 
 
 “Well, really,” exclaimed a 
 small Fire-balloon, “ why not ? 
 
 It is a most joyful occasion, and 
 when I soar up into the air I 
 intend to tell the stars all about it. 
 
 Y ou will see them twinkle when I talk to them 
 about the pretty bride.” 
 
 “Ah! what a trivial view of life!” said the 
 Rocket ; “ but it is only what I expected. 
 There is nothing in you ; you are hollow and 
 empty. Why, perhaps the Prince and Princess 
 may go to live in a country where there is a 
 deep river, and perhaps they may have one only 
 
 117 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 son, a little fair-haired boy with violet eyes like 
 the Prinee himself ; and perhaps some day he 
 may go out to walk with his nurse ; and perhaps 
 the nurse may go to sleep under a great elder- 
 tree ; and perhaps the little boy may fall into 
 the deep river and be drowned. What a terrible 
 misfortune ! Poor people, to lose their only 
 son ! It is really too dreadful ! I shall never 
 get over it.” 
 
 “ But they have not lost their only son,” 
 said the Roman Candle ; “no misfortune has 
 happened to them at all.” 
 
 “I never said that they had,” replied the 
 Rocket ; “I said that they might. If they had 
 lost their only son there would be no use in 
 saying anything more about the matter. I hate 
 people who cry over spilt milk. But when I 
 think that they might lose their only son, I 
 certainly am very much affected.” 
 
 “ You certainly are ! ” cried the Bengal Light. 
 
 ii8 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 ‘‘In fact, you are the most affeeted person I 
 ever met.” 
 
 “You are the rudest person I ever met,” said 
 the Roeket, “and you cannot understand my 
 friendship for the Prince.” 
 
 “ Why, you don’t even know him,” growled 
 the Roman Candle. 
 
 “ I never said I knew him,” answered the 
 Rocket. “I dare say that if I knew him I 
 should not be his friend at all. It is a very 
 dangerous thing to know one’s friends.” 
 
 “You had really better keep yourself dry,” 
 said the Fire-balloon. “That is the important 
 thing.” 
 
 “Very important for you, I have no doubt,” 
 answered the Roeket, “ but I shall weep if I 
 choose ; ” and he actually burst into real tears, 
 which flowed down his stick like rain-drops, 
 and nearly drowned two little beetles, who 
 were just thinking of setting up house together. 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 and were looking for a nice dry spot to live in. 
 
 “ He must have a truly romantic nature,” 
 said the Catherine Wheel, ‘Hor he weeps when 
 there is nothing at all to weep about ; ” and she 
 heaved a deep sigh and thought about the deal 
 box. 
 
 But the Roman Candle and the Bengal Light 
 were quite indignant, and kept saying, Hum- 
 bug ! humbug!” at the top of their voices. 
 They were extremely practical, and whenever 
 they objected to anything they called it humbug. 
 
 Then the moon rose like a wonderful silver 
 shield ; and the stars began to shine, and a 
 sound of music came from the palace. 
 
 The Prince and Princess were leading the 
 dance. They danced sO beautifully that the 
 tall white lilies peeped in at the window and 
 watched them, and the great red poppies nodded 
 their heads and beat time. 
 
 Then ten o’clock struck, and then eleven. 
 
 1 20 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 and then twelve, and at the last stroke of mid- 
 night every one came out on the terrace, and the 
 King sent for the Royal Pyrotechnist. 
 
 ‘‘ Let the fireworks begin,” said the King ; 
 and the Royal Pyrotechnist made a low bow, 
 and marched down to the end of the garden. 
 He had six attendants with him, each of whom 
 carried a lighted torch at the end of a long 
 pole. 
 
 It was certainly a magnificent display. 
 
 Whizz! Whizz I went the Catherine Wheel, 
 as she spun round and round. Boom I Boom I 
 went the Roman Candle. Then the Squibs 
 danced all over the place, and the Bengal 
 Lights made everything look scarlet. ‘^Good- 
 bye,” cried the Fire-balloon, as he soared away, 
 dropping tiny blue sparks. Bang I Bang ! 
 answered the Crackers, who were enjoying 
 themselves immensely. Every one was a great 
 success except the Remarkable Rocket. He 
 
 I Z I 
 
 Q 
 

 THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 was so damp with crying that he could not go 
 off at all. The best thing in him was the 
 gunpowder, and that was so wet with tears 
 that it was of no use. All his poor relations, 
 to whom he would never speak, except with a 
 sneer, shot up into the sky like wonderful 
 golden flowers with blossoms of Are. Huzza ! 
 Huzza ! cried the Court ; and the little Princess 
 laughed with pleasure. 
 
 “ I suppose they are reserving me for some 
 grand occasion,” said the Rocket; “no doubt 
 that is what it means,” and he looked more 
 supercilious than ever. 
 
 The next day the workmen came to put 
 everything tidy. “This is evidently a depu- 
 tation,” said the Rocket; “I will receive them 
 with becoming dignity ” : so he put his nose in 
 the air, and began to frown severely as if he 
 were thinking about some very important 
 subject. But they took no notice of him at 
 
 122 
 
ril }■: REMARK ABLE ROCKET 
 
 . ( ' damp with crying that he could not go 
 
 •H .11 all. The best thing in him was the 
 ^•'.'•;|>owder, and that was so wet with tears 
 UMt it was ol no use. All his poor relations, 
 to w'hom he would never speak, except with a 
 siieer, shot up into the sky like wonderful 
 ffolden doM'crs with blossoms of bre. Huzza ! 
 Huzza ! cried the Court; and the little Princess 
 laiinhed with pleasure. 
 
 O I 
 
 1 suppose they are reserving me for some 
 grand occasion, saio tne Rocket; mo doubt 
 that is what it means,” and he looked more 
 supercilious than ever. 
 
 The next day the workmen came to put 
 everything tidy. ^‘This is evidently a depu- 
 tation,” said the Rocket; ‘H will receive them 
 :th becoming dignity”: so he put his nose in 
 the air, and began to frown severely as if he 
 \verc thinking about some very important 
 .object. But they took no notice of him at 
 
 122 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 all till they were just going away. Then one 
 of them caught sight of him. ‘‘Hallo!” he 
 cried, “ what a bad rocket I ” and he threw 
 him over the wall into the ditch. 
 
 “ Bad Rocket ? Bad Rocket ?” he said, as he 
 whirled through the air; “impossible! Grand 
 Rocket, that is what the man said. Bad and 
 Grand sound very much the same, indeed they 
 often are the same and he fell into the mud. 
 
 “It is not comfortable here,” he remarked, 
 “but no doubt it is some fashionable watering- 
 place, and they have sent me away to recruit 
 my health. My nerves are certainly very 
 much shattered, and I require rest.” 
 
 Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled 
 eyes, and a green mottled coat, swam up to 
 him. 
 
 “A new arrival, I see! ” said the Frog. 
 “Well, after all there is nothing like mud. 
 Give me rainy weather and a ditch, and I am 
 
 123 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 quite happy. Do you think it will be a wet 
 afternoon ? I am sure I hope so, but the sky 
 is quite blue and cloudless. What a pity ! ” 
 
 “ Ahem ! ahem ! ” said the Rocket, and he 
 began to cough. 
 
 “ What a delightful voice you have ! ” cried 
 the Frog. Really it is quite like a croak, 
 and croaking is of course the most musical 
 sound in the world. You will hear our glee- 
 club this evening. We sit in the old duck 
 pond close by the farmer’s house, and as soon 
 as the moon rises we begin. It is so entrancing 
 that everybody lies awake to listen to us. In 
 fact, it was only yesterday that I heard the 
 farmer’s wife say to her mother that she could 
 not get a wink of sleep at night on account of us. 
 It is most gratifying to hnd oneself so popular.” 
 
 “Ahem! ahem!” said the Rocket angrily. 
 He was very much annoyed that he could not 
 get a word in. 
 
 124 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 ‘‘A delightful voice, certainly,” continued 
 the Frog; “I hope you will come over to the 
 duck-pond. I am off to look for my daughters. 
 I have six beautiful daughters, and I am so afraid 
 the Pike may meet them. He is a perfect 
 monster, and would have no hesitation in 
 breakfasting off them. Well, good-bye : I have 
 enjoyed our conversation very much, I assure 
 you. 
 
 Conversation, indeed ! ” said the Rocket. 
 ‘‘You have talked the whole time yourself. 
 That is not conversation.” 
 
 “ Somebody must listen,” answered the Frog, 
 “and I like to do all the talking myself. It 
 saves time, and prevents arguments.” 
 
 “ But I like arguments,” said the Rocket. 
 “I hope not,” said the Frog complacently. 
 “ Arguments are extremely vulgar, for everybody 
 in good society holds exactly the same opinions. 
 Good-bye a second time ; I see my daughters 
 
 125 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 in the distance ; ” and the little Frog swam 
 away . 
 
 ‘‘You are a very irritating person,” said the 
 Rocket, “and very ill-bred. I hate people who 
 talk about themselves, as you do, when one 
 wants to talk about oneself, as I do. It is what 
 I call selhshness, and selfishness is a most de- 
 testable thing, especially to any one of my 
 temperament, for I am well known for my 
 sympathetic nature. In fact, you should take 
 example by me ; you could not possibly have 
 a better model. Now that you have the chance 
 you had better avail yourself of it, for I am 
 going back to Court almost immediately. I am 
 a great favourite at Court ; in fact, the Prince 
 and Princess were married yesterday in my 
 honour. Of course you know nothing of these 
 matters, for you are a provincial.” 
 
 “There is no good talking to him,” said a 
 Dragon-fly, who was sitting on the top of a 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 large brown bulrush; ‘‘no good at all, for he 
 has gone away.” 
 
 “Well, that is his loss, not mine,” answered 
 the Rocket. “ I am not going to stop talking 
 to him merely because he pays no attention. 
 I like hearing myself talk. It is one of my 
 greatest pleasures. I often have long conver- 
 sations all by myself, and I am so clever that 
 sometimes I don’t understand a single word of 
 what I am saying.” 
 
 “Then you should certainly lecture on 
 Philosophy,” said the Dragon-fly, and he spread 
 a pair of lovely gauze wings and soared away 
 into the sky. 
 
 “ How very silly of him not to stay here ! ” 
 said the Rocket. “ I am sure that he has not 
 often got such a chance of improving his mind. 
 However, I don’t care a bit. Genius like mine 
 is sure to be appreciated some day ; ” and he sank 
 down a little deeper into the mud. 
 
 127 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 After some time a large White Duck swam 
 up to him. She had yellow legs, and webbed 
 feet, and was considered a great beauty on 
 account of her waddle. 
 
 ‘‘Quack, quack, quack,” she said. “What 
 a curious shape you are ! May I ask were 
 you born like that, or is it the result of an 
 accident ? ” 
 
 “ It is quite evident that you have always 
 lived in the country,” answered the Rocket, 
 “ otherwise you would know who I am. How- 
 ever, I excuse your ignorance. It would be 
 unfair to expect other people to be as remark- 
 able as oneself. You will no doubt be surprised 
 to hear that I can fly up into the sky, and come 
 down in a shower of golden rain.” 
 
 “I don’t think much of that,” said the Duck, 
 “ as I cannot see what use it is to any one. Now, 
 if you could plough the fields like the ox, or 
 draw a cart like the horse, or look after the 
 
 1 28 
 
 
 IL 
 
 I 
 
 '!■ ill J 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 sheep like the collie -dog, that would be 
 something.” 
 
 “ My good creature,” cried the Rocket in a 
 very haughty tone of voice, ‘‘ I see that you 
 belong to the lower orders. A person of my 
 position is never useful. We have certain ac- 
 complishments, and that is more than sufficient. 
 I have no sympathy myself with industry of 
 any kind, least of all with such industries as 
 you seem to recommend. Indeed, I have 
 always been of opinion that hard work is 
 simply the refuge of people who have nothing 
 whatever to do.” 
 
 “Well, well,” said the Duck, who was of a 
 very peaceable disposition, and never quarrelled 
 with any one, “everybody has different tastes. 
 I hope, at any rate, that you are going to take 
 up your residence here.” 
 
 “Oh! dear no,” cried the Rocket. “I am 
 merely a visitor, a distinguished visitor. The 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 fact is that I lind this place rather tedious. 
 There is neither society here, nor solitude. In 
 fact, it is essentially suburban. I shall probably 
 go back to Court, for I know that I am destined 
 to make a sensation in the world.” 
 
 had thoughts of entering public life once 
 myself,” remarked the Duck ; “ there are so 
 many things that need reforming. Indeed, I 
 took the chair at a meeting some time ago, and 
 we passed resolutions condemning everything 
 that we did not like. However, they did not 
 seem to have much effect. Now I go in for 
 domesticity, and look after my family.” 
 
 ‘‘ I am made for public life,” said the Rocket, 
 “ and so are all my relations, even the humblest 
 of them. Whenever we appear we excite great 
 attention. I have not actually appeared myself, 
 but when I do so it will be a magnificent sight. 
 As for domesticity, it ages one rapidly, and 
 distracts one’s mind from higher things.” 
 
 130 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 ‘‘ Ah ! the higher things of life, how line they 
 ^ are!” said the Duck; ‘‘and that reminds me 
 
 how hungry I feel : ” and she swam away down 
 ‘ the stream, saying, “Quack, quack, quack.” 
 
 “Come back! come back!” screamed the 
 Rocket, “ I have a great deal to say to you ; ” 
 but the Duck paid no attention to him. “ I am 
 glad that she has gone,” he said to himself, 
 “ she has a decidedly middle-class mind ; ” and 
 I he sank a little deeper still into the mud, and 
 
 , began to think about the loneliness of genius, 
 
 when suddenly two little boys in white smocks 
 ^ came running down the bank, with a kettle and 
 
 some faggots. 
 
 I “This must be the 
 
 deputation,” said the 
 I Rocket, and he tried to 
 
 t 
 
 look very dignified. 
 
 “Hallo!” cried one 
 ‘ of the boys, “look at 
 
 r 
 
 131 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 this old stick ! I wonder how it came here ; ” 
 and he picked the rocket out of the ditch. 
 
 ‘‘Old Stick!” said the Rocket, “impossible! 
 Gold Stick, that is what he said. Gold Stick 
 is very complimentary. In fact, he mistakes 
 me for one of the Court dignitaries ! ” 
 
 “Let us put it into the fire!” said the other 
 boy, “it will help to boil the kettle.” 
 
 So they piled the faggots together, and put 
 the Rocket on top, and lit the fire. 
 
 “This is magnificent,” cried the Rocket, 
 “they are going to let me off in broad daylight, 
 so that everyone can see me.” 
 
 “We will go to sleep now,” they said, “and 
 when we wake up the kettle will be boiled ; ” 
 and they lay down on the grass, and shut their 
 eyes. 
 
 The Rocket was very damp, so he took a 
 long time to burn. At last, however, the fire 
 caught him. 
 
 132 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 “Now I am going off!” he cried, and he 
 made himself very stiff and straight. “I know 
 I shall go much higher than the stars, much 
 higher than the moon, much higher than the 
 sun. In fact, I shall go so high that ” 
 
 Fizz ! Fizz I Fizz ! and he went straight up 
 into the air. 
 
 “Delightful!” he cried, “I shall go on like 
 this for ever. What a success I am ! ” 
 
 But nobody saw him. 
 
 Then he began to feel a curious tingling 
 sensation all over him. 
 
 “Now I am going to explode,” he cried. 
 “I shall set the whole world on fire, and make 
 such a noise that nobody will talk about any- 
 thing else for a whole year.” And he certainly 
 did explode. Bang ! Bang ! Bang ! went the 
 gunpowder. There was no doubt about it. 
 
 But nobody heard him, not even the two 
 little boys, for they were sound asleep. 
 
 133 
 
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET 
 
 Then all that was left of him was the stick, 
 and this fell down on the back of a Goose who 
 was taking a walk by the side of the ditch. 
 
 “Good heavens!” cried the Goose. “It is 
 going to rain sticks;” and she rushed into the 
 water. 
 
 “I knew I should create a great sensation” 
 gasped the Rocket, and he went out. 
 
Printed by Henry Stone & Son, Ltd., Banbury 
 
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