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anold lady's glove； too： I wonder what that was thinking of？ Shall Itell you？ The glove was lying there； pointing with its little fingerat the tree。 'I'm sorry for the tree；' it thought； 'and I was alsoat the feast； where the chandeliers glittered。 My life was； so tospeak； a ball night… a pressure of the hand； and I burst！ My memorykeeps dwelling upon that； and I have really nothing else to live for！'This is what the glove thought； or what it might have thought。 'That'sa stupid affair with yonder fir tree；' said the potsherds。 You see；potsherds think everything is stupid。 'When one is in thedust…cart；' they said； 'one ought not to give one's self airs and weartinsel。 I know that I have been useful in the world… far more usefulthan such a green stick。' This was a view that might be taken； and Idon't think it quite a peculiar one； but for all that； the fir treelooked very well： it was like a little poetry in the dust…heap； andtruly there is dust enough in the streets on moving…day。 The way isdifficult and troublesome then； and I feel obliged to run away outof the confusion； or； if I am on the tower； I stay there and lookdown； and it is amusing enough。
〃There are the good people below； playing at 'changing houses。'They toil and tug away with their goods and chattels； and thehousehold goblin sits in an old tub and moves with them。 All thelittle griefs of the lodging and the family； and the real cares andsorrows； move with them out of the old dwelling into the new； and whatgain is there for them or for us in the whole affair？ Yes； there waswritten long ago the good old maxim： 'Think on the great moving…day ofdeath！' That is a serious thought。 I hope it is not disagreeable toyou that I should have touched upon it？ Death is the most certainmessenger； after all； in spite of his various occupations。 Yes；Death is the omnibus conductor； and he is the passport writer； andhe countersigns our service…book； and he is director of the savingsbank of life。 Do you understand me？ All the deeds of our life； thegreat and the little alike； we put into this savings bank； and whenDeath calls with his omnibus； and we have to step in； and drive withhim into the land of eternity； then on the frontier he gives us ourservice…book as a pass。 As a provision for the journey； he takesthis or that good deed we have done； and lets it acpany us； andthis may be very pleasant or very terrific。 Nobody has ever escapedthe omnibus journey。 There is certainly a talk about one who was notallowed to go… they call him the Wandering Jew： he has to ridebehind the omnibus。 If he had been allowed to get in； he would haveescaped the clutches of the poets。
〃Just cast your mind's eye into that great omnibus。 The society ismixed； for king and beggar； genius and idiot； sit side by side。 Theymust go without their property and money； they have only theservice…book and the gift out of the savings bank with them。 But whichof our deeds is selected and given to us？ Perhaps quite a littleone； one that we have forgotten； but which has been recorded… small asa pea； but the pea can send out a blooming shoot。 The poor bumpkin whosat on a low stool in the corner； and was jeered at and flouted；will perhaps have his worn…out stool given him as a provision； and thestool may bee a litter in the land of eternity； and rise up then asa throne； gleaming like gold and blooming as an arbor。 He who alwayslounged about； and drank the spiced draught of pleasure； that he mightforget the wild things he had done here； will have his barrel given tohim on the journey； and will have to drink from it as they go on；and the drink is bright and clear； so that the thoughts remain pure；and all good and noble feelings are awakened； and he sees and feelswhat in life he could not or would not see； and then he has within himthe punishment； the gnawing worm； which will not die through timeincalculable。 If on the glasses there stood written 'oblivion；' on thebarrel 'remembrance' is inscribed。
〃When I read a good book； an historical work； I always think atlast of the poetry of what I am reading； and of the omnibus ofdeath； and wonder； which of the hero's deeds Death took out of thesavings bank for him； and what provisions he got on the journey intoeternity。 There was once a French king… I have forgotten his name； forthe names of good people are sometimes forgotten； even by me； but itwill e back some day；… there was a king who； during a famine；became the benefactor of his people； and the people raised up to hismemory a monument of snow； with the inscription； 'Quicker than thismelts didst thou bring help！' I fancy that Death； looking back uponthe monument； gave him a single snow…flake as provision； asnow…flake that never melts； and this flake floated over his royalhead； like a white butterfly； into the land of eternity。 Thus； too；there was Louis XI。 I have remembered his name； for one remembers whatis bad… a trait of him often es into my thoughts； and I wish onecould say the story is not true。 He had his lord high constableexecuted； and he could execute him； right or wrong； but he had theinnocent children of the constable； one seven and the other eightyears old； placed under the scaffold so that the warm blood of theirfather spurted over them； and then he had them sent to the Bastille；and shut up in iron cages； where not even a coverlet was given them toprotect them from the cold。 And King Louis sent the executioner tothem every week； and had a tooth pulled out of the head of each；that they might not be too fortable； and the elder of the boyssaid； 'My mother would die of grief if she knew that my youngerbrother had to suffer so cruelly； therefore pull out two of myteeth； and spare him。' The tears came into the hangman's eyes； but theking's will was stronger than the tears； and every week two littleteeth were brought to him on a silver plate； he had demanded them； andhe had them。 I fancy that Death took these two teeth out of thesavings bank of life； and gave them to Louis XI； to carry with himon the great journey into the land of immortality； they fly before himlike two flames of fire； they shine and burn； and they bite him； theinnocent children's teeth。
〃Yes； that's a serious journey； the omnibus ride on the greatmoving…day！ And when is it to be undertaken？ That's just the seriouspart of it。 Any day； any hour； any minute； the omnibus may draw up。Which of our deeds will Death take out of the savings bank； and giveto us as provision？ Let us think of the moving…day that is notmarked in the calendar。〃
THE END。
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
OLE…LUK…OIE； THE DREAM…GOD
by Hans Christian Andersen
THERE is nobody in the world who knows so many stories asOle…Luk…Oie； or who can relate them so nicely。 In the evening； whilethe children are seated at the table or in their little chairs； hees up the stairs very softly； for he walks in his socks； then heopens the doors without the slightest noise； and throws a smallquantity of very fine dust in their eyes； just enough to preventthem from keeping them open； and so they do not see him。 Then hecreeps behind them； and blows softly upon their necks； till theirheads begin to droop。 But Ole…Luk…Oie does not wish to hurt them；for he is very fond of children； and only wants them to be quietthat he may relate to them pretty stories； and they never are quietuntil they are in bed and asleep。 As soon as they are asleep；Ole…Luk…Oie seats himself upon the bed。 He is nicely dressed； his coatis made of silken stuff； it is impossible to say of what color； for itchanges from green to red； and from red to blue as he turns fromside to side。 Under each arm he carries an umbrella； one of them； withpictures on the inside； he spreads over the good children； and thenthey dream the most beautiful stories the whole night。 But the otherumbrella has no pictures； and this he holds over the naughtychildren so that they sleep heavily； and wake in the morning withouthaving dreamed at all。
Now we shall hear how Ole…Luk…Oie came every night during awhole week to the little boy named Hjalmar； and what he told him。There were seven stories； as there are seven days in the week。MONDAY
MONDAY
〃Now pay attention；〃 said Ole…Luk…Oie； in the evening； whenHjalmar was in bed； 〃and I