Page:Fairy tales and stories (Andersen, Tegner).djvu/163

Rh giant egg in the wall facing the road? The elder-tree spreads its branches over it, and the cock struts about and scratches the ground for the hens; look how proudly he holds himself! Now we are near the church. It lies high up on the hill behind the great oak-trees, one of which is half dead! Now we are near the smithy where the fire burns in the forge and half-naked men strike the red-hot iron with their hammer, so that the sparks fly all over the place. Away, away to the old manor-house!"

And everything which the little girl, who sat behind him on the stick, spoke of, flew rapidly past them, and the boy saw it all, although they were only galloping round the lawn. Then they played on a sidewalk and marked the outline of a little garden in the ground, and she took the elder flower out of her hair and planted it there; it grew up exactly like the one which the old couple had planted in Nyboder, when they were young, which has already been told. They went hand in hand just like the old people had done as children, but they did not go up the Round Tower or to Frederiksburg Garden; no, the little girl took the boy round the waist and flew with him all over Denmark. It was spring, and the summer came, and it was autumn, and the winter came, and thousands of pictures were reflected on the boy's eyes and heart, while the little girl sang to him: "This you will never forget! "And during their whole flight the elder-tree smelled sweet and delicious; he noticed, of course, the smell of the roses and the fresh beeches, but the fragrance from the elder-tree became still sweeter, for its flowers hung near the little girl's heart, and he often leaned his head on it during their flight.

"How beautiful it is here in the spring!", said the little girl, as they stood in the beechwood where all the shoots were fresh and green, and where the fragrant green woodruff lay at their feet, and the pale-pink anemones looked so beautiful among the green. "Oh, that there might always be spring in the fragrant Danish beechwoods!"

"How beautiful it is here in the summer!" she said, as they flew past the old manor house of the middle ages, the red walls and pointed gables of which were reflected in the moats where swans were swimming about and looking up the old shady avenue. In the fields the corn stood waving like a sea, the ditches were full of red and yellow flowers, and the hedges with wild hops and budding convolvuluses, and in the evening the moon rose, large and round, while the scent from the hayricks in the meadows filled the air with sweetness. "It can never be forgotten!"

"How beautiful it is here in the autumn!" said the little girl, as the heavens became loftier and of a darker blue; the forests glowed with the most beautiful colors in red, yellow, and green; the hounds rushed past while whole flocks of wild birds flew screeching over the burial mounds, where the blackberry bushes hung over the old stones. The sea was blue-black, dotted with white sails, and in the barn sat old women, girls, and children picking hops into a big tub; the young folks sang ditties and the