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mild；gentle expression in them when they look at you； which does yougood。 She wears a dress of heavy； rich silk； with large flowers workedon it； and it rustles when she moves。 And then she can tell the mostwonderful stories。 Grandmother knows a great deal； for she was alivebefore father and mother… that's quite certain。 She has a hymn…bookwith large silver clasps； in which she often reads； and in the book；between the leaves； lies a rose； quite flat and dry； it is not sopretty as the roses which are standing in the glass； and yet shesmiles at it most pleasantly； and tears even e into her eyes。 〃Iwonder why grandmother looks at the withered flower in the old bookthat way？ Do you know？〃 Why； when grandmother's tears fall upon therose； and she is looking at it； the rose revives； and fills the roomwith its fragrance； the walls vanish as in a mist； and all aroundher is the glorious green wood； where in summer the sunlight streamsthrough thick foliage； and grandmother； why she is young again； acharming maiden； fresh as a rose； with round； rosy cheeks； fair；bright ringlets； and a figure pretty and graceful； but the eyes； thosemild； saintly eyes； are the same；… they have been left to grandmother。At her side sits a young man； tall and strong； he gives her a rose andshe smiles。 Grandmother cannot smile like that now。 Yes； she issmiling at the memory of that day； and many thoughts and recollectionsof the past； but the handsome young man is gone； and the rose haswithered in the old book； and grandmother is sitting there； again anold woman； looking down upon the withered rose in the book。
Grandmother is dead now。 She had been sitting in her arm…chair；telling us a long； beautiful tale； and when it was finished； shesaid she was tired； and leaned her head back to sleep awhile。 We couldhear her gentle breathing as she slept； gradually it became quieterand calmer； and on her countenance beamed happiness and peace。 Itwas as if lighted up with a ray of sunshine。 She smiled once more； andthen people said she was dead。 She was laid in a black coffin； lookingmild and beautiful in the white folds of the shrouded linen； thoughher eyes were closed； but every wrinkle had vanished； her hairlooked white and silvery； and around her mouth lingered a sweet smile。We did not feel at all afraid to look at the corpse of her who hadbeen such a dear； good grandmother。 The hymn…book； in which the rosestill lay； was placed under her head； for so she had wished it； andthen they buried grandmother。
On the grave； close by the churchyard wall； they planted arose…tree； it was soon full of roses； and the nightingale sat amongthe flowers； and sang over the grave。 From the organ in the churchsounded the music and the words of the beautiful psalms； which werewritten in the old book under the head of the dead one。
The moon shone down upon the grave； but the dead was not there；every child could go safely； even at night； and pluck a rose fromthe tree by the churchyard wall。 The dead know more than we do who areliving。 They know what a terror would e upon us if such a strangething were to happen； as the appearance of a dead person among us。They are better off than we are； the dead return no more。 The earthhas been heaped on the coffin； and it is earth only that lies withinit。 The leaves of the hymn…book are dust； and the rose； with all itsrecollections； has crumbled to dust also。 But over the grave freshroses bloom； the nightingale sings； and the organ sounds and therestill lives a remembrance of old grandmother； with the loving；gentle eyes that always looked young。 Eyes can never die。 Ours willonce again behold dear grandmother； young and beautiful as when； forthe first time； she kissed the fresh； red rose； that is now dust inthe grave。
THE END。
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
HOLGER DANSKE
by Hans Christian Andersen
IN Denmark there stands an old castle named Kronenburg； close bythe Sound of Elsinore； where large ships； both English； Russian； andPrussian； pass by hundreds every day。 And they salute the old castlewith cannons； 〃Boom； boom；〃 which is as if they said； 〃Good…day。〃And the cannons of the old castle answer 〃Boom；〃 which means 〃Manythanks。〃 In winter no ships sail by； for the whole Sound is coveredwith ice as far as the Swedish coast； and has quite the appearanceof a high…road。 The Danish and the Swedish flags wave； and Danes andSwedes say； 〃Good…day；〃 and 〃Thank you〃 to each other； not withcannons； but with a friendly shake of the hand； and they exchangewhite bread and biscuits with each other； because foreign articlestaste the best。
But the most beautiful sight of all is the old castle ofKronenburg； where Holger Danske sits in the deep； dark cellar； intowhich no one goes。 He is clad in iron and steel； and rests his head onhis strong arm； his long beard hangs down upon the marble table；into which it has bee firmly rooted； he sleeps and dreams； but inhis dreams he sees everything that happens in Denmark。 On eachChristmas…eve an angel es to him and tells him that all he hasdreamed is true； and that he may go to sleep again in peace； asDenmark is not yet in any real danger； but should danger ever e；then Holger Danske will rouse himself； and the table will burstasunder as he draws out his beard。 Then he will e forth in hisstrength； and strike a blow that shall sound in all the countries ofthe world。
An old grandfather sat and told his little grandson all this aboutHolger Danske； and the boy knew that what his grandfather told himmust be true。 As the old man related this story； he was carving animage in wood to represent Holger Danske； to be fastened to the prowof a ship； for the old grandfather was a carver in wood； that is；one who carved figures for the heads of ships； according to thenames given to them。 And now he had carved Holger Danske； who stoodthere erect and proud； with his long beard； holding in one hand hisbroad battle…axe； while with the other he leaned on the Danish arms。The old grandfather told the little boy a great deal about Danishmen and women who had distinguished themselves in olden times； so thathe fancied he knew as much even as Holger Danske himself； who； afterall； could only dream； and when the little fellow went to bed； hethought so much about it that he actually pressed his chin against thecounterpane； and imagined that he had a long beard which had beerooted to it。 But the old grandfather remained sitting at his work andcarving away at the last part of it； which was the Danish arms。 Andwhen he had finished he looked at the whole figure； and thought of allhe had heard and read； and what he had that evening related to hislittle grandson。 Then he nodded his head； wiped his spectacles and putthem on； and said； 〃Ah； yes； Holger Danske will not appear in mylifetime； but the boy who is in bed there may very likely live tosee him when the event really es to pass。〃 And the oldgrandfather nodded again； and the more he looked at Holger Danske； themore satisfied he felt that he had carved a good image of him。 Itseemed to glow with the color of life； the armor glittered like ironand steel。 The hearts in the Danish arms grew more and more red； whilethe lions； with gold crowns on their heads； were leaping up。 〃Thatis the most beautiful coat of arms in the world；〃 said the old man。〃The lions represent strength； and the hearts； gentleness and love。〃And as he gazed on the uppermost lion； he thought of King Canute；who chained great England to Denmark's throne； and he looked at thesecond lion； and thought of Waldemar； who untied Denmark and conqueredthe Vandals。 The third lion reminded him of Margaret； who unitedDenmark； Sweden； and Norway。 But when he gazed at the red hearts；their colors glowed more deeply； even as flames； and his memoryfollowed each in turn。 The first led him to a dark； narrow prison；in which sat a prisoner； a beautiful woman； daughter of Christianthe Fourth； Eleanor Ulfeld； and the flame became a rose on herbosom； and its blossoms were not more pure than the heart of thisnoblest and best of all Danish women。 〃Ah； yes； that is indeed a nobleheart in the Danish arms；〃 said the grandfather。 and his spiritfollowed the second flame； which carried him out to sea； where cannonsroared and the ships lay shroude