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The family
who dwelt in it were also very poor and humble, but they treasured the fear of
God in their innermost hearts. And now He was about to send them a child. It was
the hour of the mother's sorrow, when there pealed forth from the church tower
the sound of festive bells. In that solemn hour the sweet and joyous chiming
filled the hearts of those in the humble dwelling with thankfulness and trust;
and when, amidst these joyous sounds, a little son was born to them, the words
of prayer and praise arose from their overflowing hearts, and their happiness
seemed to ring out over town and country in the liquid tones of the church
bells' chime.
The little one, with its bright eyes and golden hair, had
been welcomed joyously on that dark November day. Its parents kissed it
lovingly, and the father wrote these words in the Bible, "On the tenth of
November, 1759, God sent us a son." And a short time after, when the child had
been baptized, the names he had received were added, "John Christopher
Frederick." And what became of the little lad?- the poor boy of the humble town
of Marbach? Ah, indeed, there was no one who thought or supposed, not even the
old church bell which had been the first to sound and chime for him, that he
would be the first to sing the beautiful song of "The Bell."
And a short
time after, when the child had been baptized, the names he had received were
added, "John Christopher Frederick." And what became of the little lad?- the
poor boy of the humble town of Marbach? Ah, indeed, there was no one who thought
or supposed, not even the old church bell which had been the first to sound and
chime for him, that he would be the first to sing the beautiful song of "The
Bell." The boy grew apace, and the world advanced with him. While he was yet a
child, his parents removed from Marbach, and went to reside in another town; but
their dearest friends remained behind at Marbach, and therefore sometimes the
mother and her son would start on a fine day to pay a visit to the little
town.
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"Grow and thrive if you can, and produce a good flute for them
yonder at the mansion," he said; it would have given him great pleasure to see
the noble baron and his companions well thrashed. Then he entered the castle-
but not the banqueting hall; he was too humble for that. No; he went to the
servants' hall. The men-servants and maids looked over his stock of articles and
bargained with him; loud crying and screaming were heard from the master's table
above: they called it singing- indeed, they did their best.
Laughter and
the howls of dogs were heard through the open windows: there they were feasting
and revelling; wine and strong old ale were foaming in the glasses and jugs; the
favourite dogs ate with their masters; now and then the squires kissed one of
these animals, after having wiped its mouth first with the tablecloth. They
ordered the pedlar to come up, but only to make fun of him. The wine had got
into their heads, and reason had left them. They poured beer into a stocking
that he could drink with them, but quick.
They poured beer into a
stocking that he could drink with them, but quick. That's what they called fun,
and it made them laugh. Then meadows, peasants, and farmyards were staked on one
card and lost. "Everything in the right place!" the pedlar said when he had at
last safely got out of Sodom and Gomorrah, as he called it. "The open high road
is my right place; up there I did not feel at ease." The little maid, who was
still watching the geese, nodded kindly to him as he passed through the gate.
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It was
Thorwaldsen's Museum. "How it shines! how it shines!" said the maiden sparrow.
"I suppose that is 'the beautiful.' Peep! But here it is larger than a peacock."
She still remembered what in her childhood's days her mother had looked upon as
the greatest among the beautiful. She flew down into the courtyard: there
everything was extremely fine. Palms and branches were painted on the walls, and
in the middle of the court stood a great blooming rose-tree spreading out its
fresh boughs, covered with roses, over a grave.
Thither flew the maiden
sparrow, for she saw several of her own kind there. A "peep" and three
foot-scrapings- in this way she had often greeted throughout the year, and no
one here had responded, for those who are once parted do not meet every day; and
so this greeting had become a habit with her. But to-day two old sparrows and a
young one answered with a "peep" and the thrice-repeated scrape with the left
foot. "Ah! Good-day! good-day!" They were two old ones from the nest and a
little one of the family.
"Ah! Good-day! good-day!" They were two old
ones from the nest and a little one of the family. "Do we meet here? It's a
grand place, but there's not much to eat. This is 'the beautiful.' Peep!" Many
people came out of the side rooms where the beautiful marble statues stood and
approached the grave where lay the great master who had created these works of
art. All stood with enraptured faces round Thorwaldsen's grave, and a few picked
up the fallen rose-leaves and preserved them.
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She brings her gift with her, whether it is a world or a bauble.
To this child she must come. You think that to wait for this time would be long
and useless. Well, then, let us go for this pearl- the only one lacking amidst
all this wealth." Then hand-in-hand they floated away to the spot where the
fairy was now lingering. It was in a large house with dark windows and empty
rooms, in which a peculiar stillness reigned. A whole row of windows stood open,
so that the rude wind could enter at its pleasure, and the long white curtains
waved to and fro in the current of air.
A whole row of windows stood
open, so that the rude wind could enter at its pleasure, and the long white
curtains waved to and fro in the current of air. In the centre of one of the
rooms stood an open coffin, in which lay the body of a woman, still in the bloom
of youth and very beautiful. Fresh roses were scattered over her. The delicate
folded hands and the noble face glorified in death by the solemn, earnest look,
which spoke of an entrance into a better world, were alone
visible.
Around the coffin stood the husband and children, a whole troop,
the youngest in the father's arms. They were come to take a last farewell look
of their mother. The husband kissed her hand, which now lay like a withered
leaf, but which a short time before had been diligently employed in deeds of
love for them all. Tears of sorrow rolled down their cheeks, and fell in heavy
drops on the floor, but not a word was spoken. The silence which reigned here
expressed a world of grief. With silent steps, still sobbing, they left the
room.
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And
the next night four other mice came with them to hear what the tree had to tell.
The more he talked the more he remembered, and then he thought to himself,
"Those were happy days, but they may come again. Humpty Dumpty fell down stairs,
and yet he married the princess; perhaps I may marry a princess too." And the
fir-tree thought of the pretty little birch-tree that grew in the forest, which
was to him a real beautiful princess. "Who is Humpty Dumpty?" asked the little
mice.
And then the tree related the whole story; he could remember every
single word, and the little mice was so delighted with it, that they were ready
to jump to the top of the tree. The next night a great many more mice made their
appearance, and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they said, it was not a
pretty story at all, and the little mice were very sorry, for it made them also
think less of it. "Do you know only one story?" asked the rats. "Only one,"
replied the fir-tree; "I heard it on the happiest evening of my life; but I did
not know I was so happy at the time."
"We think it is a very miserable
story," said the rats. "Don't you know any story about bacon, or tallow in the
storeroom." "No," replied the tree. "Many thanks to you then," replied the rats,
and they marched off. The little mice also kept away after this, and the tree
sighed, and said, "It was very pleasant when the merry little mice sat round me
and listened while I talked. Now that is all passed too. However, I shall
consider myself happy when some one comes to take me out of this
place."
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This bottle would hold so much more than the little one, and
they all said the brandy would be so good for complaints of the stomach,
especially as it was mixed with medical herbs. The liquid which they now poured
into the bottle was not like the red wine with which it had once been filled;
these were bitter drops, but they are of great use sometimes-for the stomach.
The new large bottle was to go, not the little one: so the bottle once more
started on its travels. It was taken on board (for Peter Jensen was one of the
crew) the very same ship in which the young mate was to sail.
The new
large bottle was to go, not the little one: so the bottle once more started on
its travels. It was taken on board (for Peter Jensen was one of the crew) the
very same ship in which the young mate was to sail. But the mate did not see the
bottle: indeed, if he had he would not have known it, or supposed it was the one
out of which they had drunk to the felicity of the betrothed and to the prospect
of a marriage on his own happy return. Certainly the bottle no longer poured
forth wine, but it contained something quite as good; and so it happened that
whenever Peter Jensen brought it out, his messmates gave it the name of "the
apothecary," for it contained the best medicine to cure the stomach, and he gave
it out quite willingly as long as a drop remained.
Certainly the bottle
no longer poured forth wine, but it contained something quite as good; and so it
happened that whenever Peter Jensen brought it out, his messmates gave it the
name of "the apothecary," for it contained the best medicine to cure the
stomach, and he gave it out quite willingly as long as a drop remained. Those
were happy days, and the bottle would sing when rubbed with a cork, and it was
called a great lark," "Peter Jensen's lark." Long days and months rolled by,
during which the bottle stood empty in a corner, when a storm arose- whether on
the passage out or home it could not tell, for it had never been
ashore.
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