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aw glittering in the earth a splinter ofshining metal which the plough had cut from something which gleamedbrightly in the furrow。 He searched； and found a large golden armletof superior workmanship； and it was evident that the plough haddisturbed a Hun's grave。 He searched further； and found morevaluable treasures； which Ib showed to the clergyman； who explainedtheir value to him。 Then he went to the magistrate； who informed thepresident of the museum of the discovery； and advised Ib to take thetreasures himself to the president。
〃You have found in the earth the best thing you could find；〃said the magistrate。
〃The best thing；〃 thought Ib； 〃the very best thing for me；… andfound in the earth！ Well； if it really is so； then the gypsy woman wasright in her prophecy。〃
So Ib went in the ferry…boat from Aarhus to Copenhagen。 To him whohad only sailed once or twice on the river near his own home； thisseemed like a voyage on the ocean； and at length he arrived atCopenhagen。 The value of the gold he had found was paid to him； it wasa large sum… six hundred dollars。 Then Ib of the heath went out； andwandered about in the great city。
On the evening before the day he had settled to return with thecaptain of the passage…boat； Ib lost himself in the streets； andtook quite a different turning to the one he wished to follow。 Hewandered on till he found himself in a poor street of the suburbcalled Christian's Haven。 Not a creature could be seen。 At last a verylittle girl came out of one of the wretched…looking houses； and Ibasked her to tell him the way to the street he wanted； she looked uptimidly at him； and began to cry bitterly。 He asked her what was thematter； but what she said he could not understand。 So he went alongthe street with her； and as they passed under a lamp； the light fellon the little girl's face。 A strange sensation came over Ib； as hecaught sight of it。 The living； breathing embodiment of LittleChristina stood before him； just as he remembered her in the days ofher childhood。 He followed the child to the wretched house； andascended the narrow； crazy staircase which led to a little garret inthe roof。 The air in the room was heavy and stifling； no light wasburning； and from one corner came sounds of moaning and sighing。 Itwas the mother of the child who lay there on a miserable bed。 With thehelp of a match； Ib struck a light； and approached her。
〃Can I be of any service to you？〃 he asked。 〃This little girlbrought me up here； but I am a stranger in this city。 Are there noneighbors or any one whom I can call？〃
Then he raised the head of the sick woman； and smoothed herpillow。 He started as he did so。 It was Christina of the heath！ No onehad mentioned her name to Ib for years； it would have disturbed hispeace of mind； especially as the reports respecting her were not good。The wealth which her husband had inherited from his parents had madehim proud and arrogant。 He had given up his certain appointment； andtravelled for six months in foreign lands； and； on his return； hadlived in great style； and got into terrible debt。 For a time he hadtrembled on the high pedestal on which he had placed himself； tillat last he toppled over； and ruin came。 His numerous merry panions；and the visitors at his table； said it served him right； for he hadkept house like a madman。 One morning his corpse was found in thecanal。 The cold hand of death had already touched the heart ofChristina。 Her youngest child； looked for in the midst ofprosperity； had sunk into the grave when only a few weeks old； andat last Christina herself became sick unto death； and lay； forsakenand dying； in a miserable room； amid poverty she might have borne inher younger days； but which was now more painful to her from theluxuries to which she had lately been accustomed。 It was her eldestchild； also a Little Christina； whom Ib had followed to her home；where she suffered hunger and poverty with her mother。
It makes me unhappy to think that I shall die； and leave this poorchild；〃 sighed she。 〃Oh； what will bee of her？〃 She could say nomore。
Then Ib brought out another match； and lighted a piece of candlewhich he found in the room； and it threw a glimmering light over thewretched dwelling。 Ib looked at the little girl； and thought ofChristina in her young days。 For her sake； could he not love thischild； who was a stranger to him？ As he thus reflected； the dyingwoman opened her eyes； and gazed at him。 Did she recognize him？ Henever knew； for not another word escaped her lips。
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In the forest by the river Gudenau； not far from the heath； andbeneath the ridge of land； stood the little farm； newly painted andwhitewashed。 The air was heavy and dark； there were no blossoms on theheath； the autumn winds whirled the yellow leaves towards theboatman's hut； in which strangers dwelt； but the little farm stoodsafely sheltered beneath the tall trees and the high ridge。 The turfblazed brightly on the hearth； and within was sunlight； thesparkling light from the sunny eyes of a child； the birdlike tonesfrom the rosy lips ringing like the song of a lark in spring。 Allwas life and joy。 Little Christina sat on Ib's knee。 Ib was to herboth father and mother； her own parents had vanished from hermemory； as a dream…picture vanishes alike from childhood and age。 Ib'shouse was well and prettily furnished； for he was a prosperous mannow； while the mother of the little girl rested in the churchyard atCopenhagen； where she had died in poverty。 Ib had money now… moneywhich had e to him out of the black earth； and he had Christina forhis own； after all。
THE END。
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
IN A THOUSAND YEARS
by Hans Christian Andersen
YES； in a thousand years people will fly on the wings of steamthrough the air； over the ocean！ The young inhabitants of America willbee visitors of old Europe。 They will e over to see themonuments and the great cities； which will then be in ruins； just aswe in our time make pilgrimages to the tottering splendors of SouthernAsia。 In a thousand years they will e！
The Thames； the Danube； and the Rhine still roll their course；Mont Blanc stands firm with its snow…capped summit； and the NorthernLights gleam over the land of the North； but generation aftergeneration has bee dust； whole rows of the mighty of the moment areforgotten； like those who already slumber under the hill on whichthe rich trader； whose ground it is； has built a bench； on which hecan sit and look out across his waving corn fields。
〃To Europe！〃 cry the young sons of America； 〃to the land of ourancestors； the glorious land of monuments and fancy… to Europe！〃
The ship of the air es。 It is crowded with passengers； forthe transit is quicker than by sea。 The electro…magic wire underthe ocean has already telegraphed the number of the aerial caravan。Europe is in sight。 It is the coast of Ireland that they see； butthe passengers are still asleep； they will not be called till they areexactly over England。 There they will first step on European shore； inthe land of Shakespeare； as the educated call it； in the land ofpolitics； the land of machines； as it is called by others。
Here they stay a whole day。 That is all the time the busy race candevote to the whole of England and Scotland。 Then the journey iscontinued through the tunnel under the English Channel； to France； theland of Charlemagne and Napoleon。 Moliere is named； the learned mentalk of the classic school of remote antiquity。 There is rejoicing andshouting for the names of heroes； poets； and men of science； whomour time does not know； but who will be born after our time inParis； the centre of Europe； and elsewhere。
The air steamboat flies over the country whence Columbus wentforth； where Cortez was born； and where Calderon sang dramas insounding verse。 Beautiful black…eyed women live still in theblooming valleys； and the oldest songs speak of the Cid and theAlhambra。
Then through the air； over the sea； to Italy； where once layold； everlasting Rome。 It has vanished！ The Campagna lies desert。 Asingle ruined wall is shown as the remains of St。 Peter's； but thereis a doubt if this ruin be genuine。
Next to Greece； to sleep a night in the grand hotel at the top