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"We
cannot expect to be happy always," said the flax; "by experiencing evil as well
as good, we become wise." And certainly there was plenty of evil in store for
the flax. It was steeped, and roasted, and broken, and combed; indeed, it
scarcely knew what was done to it. At last it was put on the spinning wheel.
"Whirr, whirr," went the wheel so quickly that the flax could not collect its
thoughts. "Well, I have been very happy," he thought in the midst of his pain,
"and must be contented with the past;" and contented he remained till he was put
on the loom, and became a beautiful piece of white linen.
"Well, I have
been very happy," he thought in the midst of his pain, "and must be contented
with the past;" and contented he remained till he was put on the loom, and
became a beautiful piece of white linen. All the flax, even to the last stalk,
was used in making this one piece. "Well, this is quite wonderful; I could not
have believed that I should be so favored by fortune. The fern was not wrong
with its song of 'Snip, snap, snurre, Basse lurre.'
But the song is not
ended yet, I am sure; it is only just beginning. How wonderful it is, that after
all I have suffered, I am made something of at last; I am the luckiest person in
the world- so strong and fine; and how white, and what a length! This is
something different to being a mere plant and bearing flowers. Then I had no
attention, nor any water unless it rained; now, I am watched and taken care of.
Every morning the maid turns me over, and I have a shower-bath from the
watering-pot every evening.
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These are
the jewels that rejoice a singer's heart. But now sleep, and grow strong and
well again. I will sing to you again." And as she sung, the emperor fell into a
sweet sleep; and how mild and refreshing that slumber was! When he awoke,
strengthened and restored, the sun shone brightly through the window; but not
one of his servants had returned- they all believed he was dead; only the
nightingale still sat beside him, and sang. "You must always remain with me,"
said the emperor.
"You shall sing only when it pleases you; and I will
break the artificial bird into a thousand pieces." "No; do not do that," replied
the nightingale; "the bird did very well as long as it could. Keep it here
still. I cannot live in the palace, and build my nest; but let me come when I
like. I will sit on a bough outside your window, in the evening, and sing to
you, so that you may be happy, and have thoughts full of joy. I will sing to you
of those who are happy, and those who suffer; of the good and the evil, who are
hidden around you.
The little singing bird flies far from you and your
court to the home of the fisherman and the peasant's cot. I love your heart
better than your crown; and yet something holy lingers round that also. I will
come, I will sing to you; but you must promise me one thing." "Everything," said
the emperor, who, having dressed himself in his imperial robes, stood with the
hand that held the heavy golden sword pressed to his heart. "I only ask one
thing," she replied; "let no one know that you have a little bird who tells you
everything.
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Oh how
dark it was inside the fish! A great deal darker than in the tunnel, and
narrower too, but the tin soldier continued firm, and lay at full length
shouldering his musket. The fish swam to and fro, making the most wonderful
movements, but at last he became quite still. After a while, a flash of
lightning seemed to pass through him, and then the daylight approached, and a
voice cried out, "I declare here is the tin soldier." The fish had been caught,
taken to the market and sold to the cook, who took him into the kitchen and cut
him open with a large knife.
She picked up the soldier and held him by
the waist between her finger and thumb, and carried him into the room. They were
all anxious to see this wonderful soldier who had travelled about inside a fish;
but he was not at all proud. They placed him on the table, and- how many curious
things do happen in the world!- there he was in the very same room from the
window of which he had fallen, there were the same children, the same
playthings, standing on the table, and the pretty castle with the elegant little
dancer at the door; she still balanced herself on one leg, and held up the
other, so she was as firm as himself.
It touched the tin soldier so much
to see her that he almost wept tin tears, but he kept them back. He only looked
at her and they both remained silent. Presently one of the little boys took up
the tin soldier, and threw him into the stove. He had no reason for doing so,
therefore it must have been the fault of the black goblin who lived in the
snuff-box. The flames lighted up the tin soldier, as he stood, the heat was very
terrible, but whether it proceeded from the real fire or from the fire of love
he could not tell.
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Most
likely it was partly like that, from mother's letter it's evident: he struck her
as rude a little, and mother in her simplicity took her observations to Dounia.
And she was sure to be vexed and 'answered her angrily.' I should think so! Who
would not be angered when it was quite clear without any naive questions and
when it was understood that it was useless to discuss it. And why does she write
to me, 'love Dounia, Rodya, and she loves you more than herself'? Has she a
secret conscience-prick at sacrificing her daughter to her son? 'You are our one
comfort, you are everything to us.'
And why does she write to me, 'love
Dounia, Rodya, and she loves you more than herself'? Has she a secret
conscience-prick at sacrificing her daughter to her son? 'You are our one
comfort, you are everything to us.' Oh, mother!" His bitterness grew more and
more intense, and if he had happened to meet Mr. Luzhin at the moment, he might
have murdered him. "Hm... yes, that's true," he continued, pursuing the whirling
ideas that chased each other in his brain, "it is true that 'it needs time and
care to get to know a man,' but there is no mistake about Mr.
Luzhin. The
chief thing is he is 'a man of business and seems kind,' that was something,
wasn't it, to send the bags and big box for them! A kind man, no doubt after
that! But his bride and her mother are to drive in a peasant's cart covered with
sacking (I know, I have been driven in it). No matter! It is only ninety versts
and then they can 'travel very comfortably, third class,' for a thousand versts!
Quite right, too. One must cut one's coat according to one's cloth, but what
about you, Mr.
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And now we
shall see what happened. Outside the town a large gibbet had been erected, round
which stood the soldiers and several thousands of people. The king and the queen
sat on splendid thrones opposite to the judges and the whole council. The
soldier already stood on the ladder; but as they were about to place the rope
around his neck, he said that an innocent request was often granted to a poor
criminal before he suffered death. He wished very much to smoke a pipe, as it
would be the last pipe he should ever smoke in the world.
He wished very
much to smoke a pipe, as it would be the last pipe he should ever smoke in the
world. The king could not refuse this request, so the soldier took his
tinder-box, and struck fire, once, twice, thrice,- and there in a moment stood
all the dogs;- the one with eyes as big as teacups, the one with eyes as large
as mill-wheels, and the third, whose eyes were like towers. "Help me now, that I
may not be hanged," cried the soldier. And the dogs fell upon the judges and all
the councillors; seized one by the legs, and another by the nose, and tossed
them many feet high in the air, so that they fell down and were dashed to
pieces.
"I will not be touched," said the king. But the largest dog
seized him, as well as the queen, and threw them after the others. Then the
soldiers and all the people were afraid, and cried, "Good soldier, you shall be
our king, and you shall marry the beautiful princess." So they placed the
soldier in the king's carriage, and the three dogs ran on in front and cried
"Hurrah!" and the little boys whistled through their fingers, and the soldiers
presented arms. The princess came out of the copper castle, and became queen,
which was very pleasing to her.
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And
we listen to this story: By the open sea was a giant's grave; and on the
grave-mound sat at midnight the spirit of the buried hero, who had been a king.
The golden circlet gleamed on his brow, his hair fluttered in the wind, and he
was clad in steel and iron. He bent his head mournfully, and sighed in deep
sorrow, as an unquiet spirit might sigh. And a ship came sailing by. Presently
the sailors lowered the anchor and landed. Among them was a singer, and he
approached the royal spirit, and said, "Why mournest thou, and wherefore dost
thou suffer thus?" And the dead man answered, "No one has sung the deeds of my
life; they are dead and forgotten.
Song doth not carry them forth over
the lands, nor into the hearts of men; therefore I have no rest and no peace."
And he spoke of his works, and of his warlike deeds, which his contemporaries
had known, but which had not been sung, because there was no singer among his
companions. Then the old bard struck the strings of his harp, and sang of the
youthful courage of the hero, of the strength of the man, and of the greatness
of his good deeds. Then the face of the dead one gleamed like the margin of the
cloud in the moonlight.
Then the old bard struck the strings of his harp,
and sang of the youthful courage of the hero, of the strength of the man, and of
the greatness of his good deeds. Then the face of the dead one gleamed like the
margin of the cloud in the moonlight. Gladly and of good courage, the form arose
in splendor and in majesty, and vanished like the glancing of the northern
light. Nought was to be seen but the green turfy mound, with the stones on which
no Runic record has been graven; but at the last sound of the harp there soared
over the hill, as though he had fluttered from the harp, a little bird, a
charming singing-bird, with ringing voice of the thrush, with the moving voice
pathos of the human heart, with a voice that told of home, like the voice that
is heard by the bird of passage.
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