Oscar Wilde.............................................................................................................................................1

High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin

leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his swordhilt.

He was very much admired indeed. "He is as beautiful as a weathercock," remarked one of the Town

Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; "only not quite so useful," he added,

"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the

"I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy," muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at

"He looks just like an angel," said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright

"Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked

One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but

he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as

he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he

"Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low

bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was

"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the other Swallows; "she has no money, and far too many relations";

and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.

After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady love. "She has no conversation," he said,

"and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind." And certainly, whenever the

wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys. "I admit that she is domestic," he continued, "but I

"Will you come away with me?" he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to

"You have been trifling with me," he cried. "I am off to the Pyramids. Goodbye!" and he flew away.

All day long he flew, and at nighttime he arrived at the city. "Where shall I put up?" he said; "I hope the

"I will put up there," he cried; "it is a fine position, with plenty of fresh air." So he alighted just between the

"I have a golden bedroom," he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but

just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. "What a curious thing!" he

cried; "there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The

climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her

"What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he said; "I must look for a good chimneypot," and

But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw Ah! what did he see?

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face

"When I was alive and had a human heart," answered the statue, "I did not know what tears were, for I lived

in the Palace of Sans Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my

companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very

lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers

called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And

now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my

"What! is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow to himself. He was too polite to make any personal remarks

"Far away," continued the statue in a low musical voice, "far away in a little street there is a poor house. One

of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and worn, and she

has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion flowers

on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen's maidsof honour to wear at the next Courtball. In a bed in

the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has

nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her

the ruby out of my swordhilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move."

"I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow. "My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the

large lotus flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there himself in his

painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me for one night, and be my

"I don't think I like boys," answered the Swallow. "Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were

two rude boys, the miller's sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we

swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry. "It is very cold here," he said; "but I

So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince's sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the palace

and heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. "How wonderful the

"I hope my dress will be ready in time for the Stateball," she answered; "I have ordered passionflowers to

He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto,

and saw the old Jews bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. At last he came

to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep,

she was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman's thimble. Then he flew

gently round the bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings. "How cool I feel," said the boy, "I must be

Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done. "It is curious," he

"That is because you have done a good action," said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and

When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. "What a remarkable phenomenon," said the

Professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the bridge. "A swallow in winter!" And he wrote a long

letter about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not

"Tonight I go to Egypt," said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the

public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went the Sparrows

chirruped, and said to each other, "What a distinguished stranger!" so he enjoyed himself very much.

When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. "Have you any commissions for Egypt?" he cried; "I

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?"

"I am waited for in Egypt," answered the Swallow. "Tomorrow my friends will fly up to the Second

Cataract. The riverhorse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God

Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and

then he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the water's edge to drink. They have eyes like green

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "far away across the city I see a young man in a garret.

He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered

violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes.

He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. There is no

"I will wait with you one night longer," said the Swallow, who really had a good heart. "Shall I take him

"Alas! I have no ruby now," said the Prince; "my eyes are all that I have left. They are made of rare sapphires,

which were brought out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He will sell

So the Swallow plucked out the Prince's eye, and flew away to the student's garret. It was easy enough to get

in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man had his

head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird's wings, and when he looked up he found

"I am beginning to be appreciated," he cried; "this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish my play,"

The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the

sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes. "Heave ahoy!" they shouted as each chest came up. "I

am going to Egypt"! cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?"

"It is winter," answered the Swallow, "and the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the

green palmtrees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them. My companions are building

a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each other.

Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful

jewels in place of those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall

"In the square below," said the Happy Prince, "there stands a little matchgirl. She has let her matches fall in

the gutter, and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she

is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her,

"I will stay with you one night longer," said the Swallow, "but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be

So he plucked out the Prince's other eye, and darted down with it. He swooped past the matchgirl, and

slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand. "What a lovely bit of glass," cried the little girl; and she ran

Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. "You are blind now," he said, "so I will stay with you always."

"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince's feet.

All the next day he sat on the Prince's shoulder, and told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He

told him of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch goldfish in their beaks;

of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the

merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of

the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great green snake

that sleeps in a palmtree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honeycakes; and of the pygmies who sail

over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.

"Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything

is the suffering of men and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city, little

So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the

beggars were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking

out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another's

arms to try and keep themselves warm. "How hungry we are!" they said. "You must not lie here," shouted the

"I am covered with fine gold," said the Prince, "you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf

after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children's faces grew rosier, and they laughed and

Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets looked as if they were made of silver,

they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses,

everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.

The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He

picked up crumbs outside the baker's door when the baker was not looking and tried to keep himself warm by

But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength to fly up to the Prince's shoulder once more.

"I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow," said the Prince, "you have stayed too long here;

"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow. "I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother

At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken. The fact is that the

leaden heart had snapped right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.

Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors.

As they passed the column he looked up at the statue: "Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!" he

"How shabby indeed!" cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor; and they went up to

"The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer," said the Mayor in fact,

"And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!" continued the Mayor. "We must really issue a proclamation that

birds are not to be allowed to die here." And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. "As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful," said

Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was

to be done with the metal. "We must have another statue, of course," he said, "and it shall be a statue of

"Of myself," said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled. When I last heard of them they were

"What a strange thing!" said the overseer of the workmen at the foundry. "This broken lead heart will not

melt in the furnace. We must throw it away." So they threw it on a dustheap where the dead Swallow was

"Bring me the two most precious things in the city," said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought

"You have rightly chosen," said God, "for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore,

"She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses," cried the young Student; "but in all my

From her nest in the holmoak tree the Nightingale heard him, and she looked out through the leaves, and

"No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on what little things

does happiness depend! I have read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are

"Here at last is a true lover," said the Nightingale. "Night after night have I sung of him, though I knew him

not: night after night have I told his story to the stars, and now I see him. His hair is dark as the

hyacinthblossom, and his lips are red as the rose of his desire; but passion has made his face like pale ivory,

"The Prince gives a ball tomorrow night," murmured the young Student, "and my love will be of the

company. If I bring her a red rose she will dance with me till dawn. If I bring her a red rose, I shall hold her in

my arms, and she will lean her head upon my shoulder, and her hand will be clasped in mine. But there is no

red rose in my garden, so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by. She will have no heed of me, and my

"Here indeed is the true lover," said the Nightingale. "What I sing of, he suffers what is joy to me, to him is

pain. Surely Love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds, and dearer than fine opals. Pearls

and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the marketplace. It may not be purchased of the

"The musicians will sit in their gallery," said the young Student, "and play upon their stringed instruments,

and my love will dance to the sound of the harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that her feet will not

touch the floor, and the courtiers in their gay dresses will throng round her. But with me she will not dance,

for I have no red rose to give her"; and he flung himself down on the grass, and buried his face in his hands,

"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green Lizard, as he ran past him with his tail in the air.

"For a red rose?" they cried; "how very ridiculous!" and the little Lizard, who was something of a cynic,

But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student's sorrow, and she sat silent in the oaktree, and

Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. She passed through the grove like a

In the centre of the grassplot was standing a beautiful Rosetree, and when she saw it she flew over to it,

"My roses are white," it answered; "as white as the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow upon the

mountain. But go to my brother who grows round the old sundial, and perhaps he will give you what you

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rosetree that was growing round the old sundial.

"My roses are yellow," it answered; "as yellow as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an amber throne,

and yellower than the daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the mower comes with his scythe. But go to

my brother who grows beneath the Student's window, and perhaps he will give you what you want."

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rosetree that was growing beneath the Student's window.

"My roses are red," it answered, "as red as the feet of the dove, and redder than the great fans of coral that

wave and wave in the oceancavern. But the winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has nipped my buds,

and the storm has broken my branches, and I shall have no roses at all this year."

"One red rose is all I want," cried the Nightingale, "only one red rose! Is there no way by which I can get it?"

"There is away," answered the Tree; "but it is so terrible that I dare not tell it to you."

"If you want a red rose," said the Tree, "you must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your

own heart'sblood. You must sing to me with your breast against a thorn. All night long you must sing to me,

and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your lifeblood must flow into my veins, and become mine."

"Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all. It is pleasant

to sit in the green wood, and to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in her chariot of pearl.

Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and the heather that

blows on the hill. Yet Love is better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a

So she spread her brown wings for flight, and soared into the air. She swept over the garden like a shadow,

The young Student was still lying on the grass, where she had left him, and the tears were not yet dry in his

"Be happy," cried the Nightingale, "be happy; you shall have your red rose. I will build it out of music by

moonlight, and stain it with my own heart'sblood. All that I ask of you in return is that you will be a true

lover, for Love is wiser than Philosophy, though she is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty.

Flame coloured are his wings, and coloured like flame is his body. His lips are sweet as honey, and his

The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, but he could not understand what the Nightingale was

But the Oaktree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of the little Nightingale who had built her

"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall feel very lonely when you are gone."

So the Nightingale sang to the Oaktree, and her voice was like water bubbling from a silver jar.

When she had finished her song the Student got up, and pulled a notebook and a leadpencil out of his

"She has form," he said to himself, as he walked away through the grove "that cannot be denied to her; but

has she got feeling? I am afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists; she is all style, without any sincerity. She

would not sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody knows that the arts are

selfish. Still, it must be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity it is that they do

not mean anything, or do any practical good." And he went into his room, and lay down on his little

And when the Moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the Rosetree, and set her breast against

the thorn. All night long she sang with her breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon leaned down

and listened. All night long she sang, and the thorn went deeper and deeper into her breast, and her lifeblood

She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray of the Rosetree

there blossomed a marvellous rose, petal following petal, as song followed song. Pale was it, at first, as the

mist that hangs over the river pale as the feet of the morning, and silver as the wings of the dawn. As the

shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, as the shadow of a rose in a waterpool, so was the rose that

But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Nightingale," cried

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and louder grew her song, for she sang of the

And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of the bridegroom when

he kisses the lips of the bride. But the thorn had not yet reached her heart, so the rose's heart remained white,

And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Nightingale," cried

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the thorn touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain

shot through her. Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for she sang of the Love

And the marvellous rose became crimson, like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals,

But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and her little wings began to beat, and a film came over her eyes.

Fainter and fainter grew her song, and she felt something choking her in her throat.

Then she gave one last burst of music. The white Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in

the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the cold morning

air. Echo bore it to her purple cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams. It

floated through the reeds of the river, and they carried its message to the sea.

"Look, look!" cried the Tree, "the rose is finished now"; but the Nightingale made no answer, for she was

"Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!" he cried; "here is a red rose! I have never seen any rose like it in all

my life. It is so beautiful that I am sure it has a long Latin name"; and he leaned down and plucked it.

Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Professor's house with the rose in his hand.

The daughter of the Professor was sitting in the doorway winding blue silk on a reel, and her little dog was

"You said that you would dance with me if I brought you a red rose," cried the Student. "Here is the reddest

rose in all the world. You will wear it tonight next your heart, and as we dance together it will tell you how I

"I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she answered; "and, besides, the Chamberlain's nephew has sent

me some real jewels, and everybody knows that jewels cost far more than flowers."

"Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful," said the Student angrily; and he threw the rose into the street,

"Ungrateful!" said the girl. "I tell you what, you are very rude; and, after all, who are you? Only a Student.

Why, I don't believe you have even got silver buckles to your shoes as the Chamberlain's nephew has"; and

"What I a silly thing Love is," said the Student as he walked away. "It is not half as useful as Logic, for it

does not prove anything, and it is always telling one of things that are not going to happen, and making one

believe things that are not true. In fact, it is quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be practical is everything, I

So he returned to his room and pulled out a great dusty book, and began to read.

Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant's garden.

It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like

stars, and there were twelve peachtrees that in the springtime broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and

pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used

to stop their games in order to listen to them. "How happy we are here!" they cried to each other.

One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for

seven years. After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was

limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the children playing in the

"What are you doing here?" he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.

"My own garden is my own garden," said the Giant; "any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to

play in it but myself." So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a noticeboard.

The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and

full of hard stones, and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were

over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside. "How happy we were there," they said to each other.

Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden

of the Selfish Giant it was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the

trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the

noticeboard it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep.

The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. "Spring has forgotten this garden," they

cried, "so we will live here all the year round." The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak,

and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came.

He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimneypots down. "This is a

delightful spot," he said, "we must ask the Hail on a visit." So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he

rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as

"I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming," said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and

looked out at his cold white garden; "I hope there will be a change in the weather."

But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the

Giant's garden she gave none. "He is too selfish," she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North

One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his

ears that he thought it must be the King's musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing

outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be

the most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind

ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement. "I believe the Spring has

He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were

sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were

so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving

their arms gently above the children's heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the

flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it

was still winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small

that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The

poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it.

"Climb up! little boy," said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too

And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. "How selfish I have been!" he said; "now I know why the

Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down

the wall, and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever and ever." He was really very sorry for

So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when the

children saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again. Only

the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant

stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once

into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them

round the Giant's neck, and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked

any longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring. "It is your garden now, little children," said

the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market at

twelve o'clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.

All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him goodbye.

"But where is your little companion?" he said: "the boy I put into the tree." The Giant loved him the best

"You must tell him to be sure and come here tomorrow," said the Giant. But the children said that they did

not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.

Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom

the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first

little friend, and often spoke of him. "How I would like to see him!" he used to say.

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a

huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. "I have many beautiful

One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the

farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all

golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to

the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, "Who hath dared to

wound thee?" For on the palms of the child's hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails

"Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the Giant; "tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him."

"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, "You let me play once in your garden, today you shall

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with

One morning the old Waterrat put his head out of his hole. He had bright beady eyes and stiff grey whiskers

and his tail was like a long bit of black indiarubber. The little ducks were swimming about in the pond,

looking just like a lot of yellow canaries, and their mother, who was pure white with real red legs, was trying

"You will never be in the best society unless you can stand on your heads," she kept saying to them; and

every now and then she showed them how it was done. But the little ducks paid no attention to her. They

were so young that they did not know what an advantage it is to be in society at all.

"What disobedient children!" cried the old Waterrat; "they really deserve to be drowned."

"Nothing of the kind," answered the Duck, "every one must make a beginning, and parents cannot be too

"Ah! I know nothing about the feelings of parents," said the Water rat; "I am not a family man. In fact, I

have never been married, and I never intend to be. Love is all very well in its way, but friendship is much

higher. Indeed, I know of nothing in the world that is either nobler or rarer than a devoted friendship."

"And what, pray, is your idea of the duties of a devoted friend?" asked a Green Linnet, who was sitting in a

"Yes, that is just what I want to know," said the Duck; and she swam away to the end of the pond, and stood

"What a silly question!" cried the Waterrat. "I should expect my devoted friend to be devoted to me, of

"And what would you do in return?" said the little bird, swinging upon a silver spray, and flapping his tiny

"Is the story about me?" asked the Waterrat. "If so, I will listen to it, for I am extremely fond of fiction."

"It is applicable to you," answered the Linnet; and he flew down, and alighting upon the bank, he told the

"Once upon a time," said the Linnet, "there was an honest little fellow named Hans."

"No," answered the Linnet, "I don't think he was distinguished at all, except for his kind heart, and his funny

round goodhumoured face. He lived in a tiny cottage all by himself, and every day he worked in his garden.

In all the countryside there was no garden so lovely as his. Sweetwilliam grew there, and Gillyflowers,

and Shepherds'purses, and Fairmaids of France. There were damask Roses, and yellow Roses, lilac

Crocuses, and gold, purple Violets and white. Columbine and Ladysmock, Marjoram and Wild Basil, the

Cowslip and the Flowerdeluce, the Daffodil and the ClovePink bloomed or blossomed in their proper

order as the months went by, one flower taking another flower's place, so that there were always beautiful

"Little Hans had a great many friends, but the most devoted friend of all was big Hugh the Miller. Indeed, so

devoted was the rich Miller to little Hans, that be would never go by his garden without leaning over the wall

and plucking a large nosegay, or a handful of sweet herbs, or filling his pockets with plums and cherries if it

"'Real friends should have everything in common,' the Miller used to say, and little Hans nodded and smiled,

"Sometimes, indeed, the neighbours thought it strange that the rich Miller never gave little Hans anything in

return, though he had a hundred sacks of flour stored away in his mill, and six milch cows, and a large flock

of woolly sheep; but Hans never troubled his head about these things, and nothing gave him greater pleasure

than to listen to all the wonderful things the Miller used to say about the unselfishness of true friendship.

"So little Hans worked away in his garden. During the spring, the summer, and the autumn he was very

happy, but when the winter came, and he had no fruit or flowers to bring to the market, he suffered a good

deal from cold and hunger, and often had to go to bed without any supper but a few dried pears or some hard

nuts. In the winter, also, he was extremely lonely, as the Miller never came to see him then.

"'There is no good in my going to see little Hans as long as the snow lasts,' the Miller used to say to his wife,

'for when people are in trouble they should be left alone, and not be bothered by visitors. That at least is my

idea about friendship, and I am sure I am right. So I shall wait till the spring comes, and then I shall pay him

a visit, and he will be able to give me a large basket of primroses and that will make him so happy.'

"'You are certainly very thoughtful about others,' answered the Wife, as she sat in her comfortable armchair

by the big pinewood fire; 'very thoughtful indeed. It is quite a treat to hear you talk about friendship. I am

sure the clergyman himself could not say such beautiful things as you do, though he does live in a

"'But could we not ask little Hans up here?' said the Miller's youngest son. 'If poor Hans is in trouble I will

"'What a silly boy you are'! cried the Miller; 'I really don't know what is the use of sending you to school.

You seem not to learn anything. Why, if little Hans came up here, and saw our warm fire, and our good

supper, and our great cask of red wine, he might get envious, and envy is a most terrible thing, and would

spoil anybody's nature. I certainly will not allow Hans' nature to be spoiled. I am his best friend, and I will

always watch over him, and see that he is not led into any temptations. Besides, if Hans came here, he might

ask me to let him have some flour on credit, and that I could not do. Flour is one thing, and friendship is

another, and they should not be confused. Why, the words are spelt differently, and mean quite different

"'How well you talk'! said the Miller's Wife, pouring herself out a large glass of warm ale; 'really I feel quite

"'Lots of people act well,' answered the Miller; 'but very few people talk well, which shows that talking is

much the more difficult thing of the two, and much the finer thing also'; and he looked sternly across the table

at his little son, who felt so ashamed of himself that he hung his head down, and grew quite scarlet, and began

"Then you are quite behind the age," said the Waterrat. "Every good storyteller nowadays starts with the

end, and then goes on to the beginning, and concludes with the middle. That is the new method. I heard all

about it the other day from a critic who was walking round the pond with a young man. He spoke of the

matter at great length, and I am sure he must have been right, for he had blue spectacles and a bald head, and

whenever the young man made any remark, he always answered 'Pooh!' But pray go on with your story. I like

the Miller immensely. I have all kinds of beautiful sentiments myself, so there is a great sympathy between

"Well," said the Linnet, hopping now on one leg and now on the other, "as soon as the winter was over, and

the primroses began to open their pale yellow stars, the Miller said to his wife that he would go down and see

"'Why, what a good heart you have'! cried his Wife; 'you are always thinking of others. And mind you take

"So the Miller tied the sails of the windmill together with a strong iron chain, and went down the hill with the

"'Well, really,' cried Hans, 'it is very good of you to ask, very good indeed. I am afraid I had rather a hard

time of it, but now the spring has come, and I am quite happy, and all my flowers are doing well.'

"'We often talked of you during the winter, Hans,' said the Miller, 'and wondered how you were getting on.'

"'Hans, I am surprised at you,' said the Miller; 'friendship never forgets. That is the wonderful thing about it,

but I am afraid you don't understand the poetry of life. How lovely your primroses are looking, bythebye"!

"'They are certainly very lovely,' said Hans, 'and it is a most lucky thing for me that I have so many. I am

going to bring them into the market and sell them to the Burgomaster's daughter, and buy back my

"'Buy back your wheelbarrow? You don't mean to say you have sold it? What a very stupid thing to do'!

"'Well, the fact is,' said Hans, 'that I was obliged to. You see the winter was a very bad time for me, and I

really had no money at all to buy bread with. So I first sold the silver buttons off my Sunday coat, and then I

sold my silver chain, and then I sold my big pipe, and at last I sold my wheelbarrow. But I am going to buy

"'Hans,' said the Miller, 'I will give you my wheelbarrow. It is not in very good repair; indeed, one side is

gone, and there is something wrong with the wheelspokes; but in spite of that I will give it to you. I know it

is very generous of me, and a great many people would think me extremely foolish for parting with it, but I

am not like the rest of the world. I think that generosity is the essence of friendship, and, besides, I have got a

new wheelbarrow for myself. Yes, you may set your mind at ease, I will give you my wheelbarrow.'

"'Well, really, that is generous of you,' said little Hans, and his funny round face glowed all over with

pleasure. 'I can easily put it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in the house.'

"'A plank of wood'! said the Miller; 'why, that is just what I want for the roof of my barn. There is a very

large hole in it, and the corn will all get damp if I don't stop it up. How lucky you mentioned it! It is quite

remarkable how one good action always breeds another. I have given you my wheelbarrow, and now you are

going to give me your plank. Of course, the wheelbarrow is worth far more than the plank, but true,

friendship never notices things like that. Pray get it at once, and I will set to work at my barn this very day.'

"'Certainly,' cried little Hans, and he ran into the shed and dragged the plank out.

"'It is not a very big plank,' said the Miller, looking at it, 'and I am afraid that after I have mended my

barnroof there won't be any left for you to mend the wheelbarrow with; but, of course, that is not my fault.

And now, as I have given you my wheelbarrow, I am sure you would like to give me some flowers in return.

"'Quite full?' said little Hans, rather sorrowfully, for it was really a very big basket, and he knew that if he

filled it he would have no flowers left for the market and he was very anxious to get his silver buttons back.

"'Well, really,' answered the Miller, 'as I have given you my wheelbarrow, I don't think that it is much to ask

you for a few flowers. I may be wrong, but I should have thought that friendship, true friendship, was quite

"'My dear friend, my best friend,' cried little Hans, 'you are welcome to all the flowers in my garden. I would

much sooner have your good opinion than my silver buttons, any day'; and he ran and plucked all his pretty

"'Goodbye, little Hans,' said the Miller, as he went up the hill with the plank on his shoulder, and the big

"'Goodbye,' said little Hans, and he began to dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased about the

"The next day he was nailing up some honeysuckle against the porch, when he heard the Miller's voice

calling to him from the road. So he jumped off the ladder, and ran down the garden, and looked over the wall.

"'Dear little Hans,' said the Miller, 'would you mind carrying this sack of flour for me to market?'

"'Oh, I am so sorry,' said Hans, 'but I am really very busy today. I have got all my creepers to nail up, and all

"'Well, really,' said the Miller, 'I think that, considering that I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, it is

"'Oh, don't say that,' cried little Hans, 'I wouldn't be unfriendly for the whole world'; and he ran in for his cap,

"It was a very hot day, and the road was terribly dusty, and before Hans had reached the sixth milestone he

was so tired that he had to sit down and rest. However, he went on bravely, and as last he reached the market.

After he had waited there some time, he sold the sack of flour for a very good price, and then he returned

home at once, for he was afraid that if he stopped too late he might meet some robbers on the way.

"'It has certainly been a hard day,' said little Hans to himself as he was going to bed, 'but I am glad I did not

refuse the Miller, for he is my best friend, and, besides, he is going to give me his wheelbarrow.'

"Early the next morning the Miller came down to get the money for his sack of flour, but little Hans was so

"'Upon my word,' said the Miller, 'you are very lazy. Really, considering that I am going to give you my

wheelbarrow, I think you might work harder. Idleness is a great sin, and I certainly don't like any of my

friends to be idle or sluggish. You must not mind my speaking quite plainly to you. Of course I should not

dream of doing so if I were not your friend. But what is the good of friendship if one cannot say exactly what

one means? Anybody can say charming things and try to please and to flatter, but a true friend always says

unpleasant things, and does not mind giving pain. Indeed, if he is a really true friend he prefers it, for he

"'I am very sorry,' said little Hans, rubbing his eyes and pulling off his nightcap, 'but I was so tired that I

thought I would lie in bed for a little time, and listen to the birds singing. Do you know that I always work

"'Well, I am glad of that,' said the Miller, clapping little Hans on the back, 'for I want you to come up to the

"Poor little Hans was very anxious to go and work in his garden, for his flowers had not been watered for two

days, but he did not like to refuse the Miller, as he was such a good friend to him.

"'Do you think it would be unfriendly of me if I said I was busy?' he inquired in a shy and timid voice.

"'Well, really,' answered the Miller, 'I do not think it is much to ask of you, considering that I am going to

give you my wheelbarrow; but of course if you refuse I will go and do it myself.'

"'Oh! on no account,' cried little Hans and he jumped out of bed, and dressed himself, and went up to the

"He worked there all day long, till sunset, and at sunset the Miller came to see how he was getting on.

"'Have you mended the hole in the roof yet, little Hans?' cried the Miller in a cheery voice.

"'Ah'! said the Miller, 'there is no work so delightful as the work one does for others.'

"'It is certainly a great privilege to hear you talk,' answered little Hans, sitting down, and wiping his forehead,

'a very great privilege. But I am afraid I shall never have such beautiful ideas as you have.'

"'Oh! they will come to you,' said the Miller, 'but you must take more pains. At present you have only the

"'I have no doubt of it,' answered the Miller, 'but now that you have mended the roof, you had better go home

"Poor little Hans was afraid to say anything to this, and early the next morning the Miller brought his sheep

round to the cottage, and Hans started off with them to the mountain. It took him the whole day to get there

and back; and when he returned he was so tired that he went off to sleep in his chair, and did not wake up till

"'What a delightful time I shall have in my garden,' he said, and he went to work at once.

"But somehow he was never able to look after his flowers at all, for his friend the Miller was always coming

round and sending him off on long errands, or getting him to help at the mill. Little Hans was very much

distressed at times, as he was afraid his flowers would think he had forgotten them, but he consoled himself

by the reflection that the Miller was his best friend. 'Besides,' he used to say, 'he is going to give me his

"So little Hans worked away for the Miller, and the Miller said all kinds of beautiful things about friendship,

which Hans took down in a notebook, and used to read over at night, for he was a very good scholar.

"Now it happened that one evening little Hans was sitting by his fireside when a loud rap came at the door. It

was a very wild night, and the wind was blowing and roaring round the house so terribly that at first he

thought it was merely the storm. But a second rap came, and then a third, louder than any of the others.

"'It is some poor traveller,' said little Hans to himself, and he ran to the door.

"There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big stick in the other.

"'Dear little Hans,' cried the Miller, 'I am in great trouble. My little boy has fallen off a ladder and hurt

himself, and I am going for the Doctor. But he lives so far away, and it is such a bad night, that it has just

occurred to me that it would be much better if you went instead of me. You know I am going to give you my

wheelbarrow, and so, it is only fair that you should do something for me in return.'

"'Certainly,' cried little Hans, 'I take it quite as a compliment your coming to me, and I will start off at once.

But you must lend me your lantern, as the night is so dark that I am afraid I might fall into the ditch.'

"'I am very sorry,' answered the Miller, 'but it is my new lantern, and it would be a great loss to me if

"'Well, never mind, I will do without it,' cried little Hans, and he took down his great fur coat, and his warm

"What a dreadful storm it was! The night was so black that little Hans could hardly see, and the wind was so

strong that he could scarcely stand. However, he was very courageous, and after he had been walking about

"'The Miller's son has fallen from a ladder, and has hurt himself, and the Miller wants you to come at once.'

"'All right!' said the Doctor; and he ordered his horse, and his big boots, and his lantern, and came downstairs,

and rode off in the direction of the Miller's house, little Hans trudging behind him.

"But the storm grew worse and worse, and the rain fell in torrents, and little Hans could not see where he was

going, or keep up with the horse. At last he lost his way, and wandered off on the moor, which was a very

dangerous place, as it was full of deep holes, and there poor little Hans was drowned. His body was found the

next day by some goatherds, floating in a great pool of water, and was brought back by them to the cottage.

"Everybody went to little Hans' funeral, as he was so popular, and the Miller was the chief mourner.

"'As I was his best friend,' said the Miller, 'it is only fair that I should have the best place'; so he walked at the

head of the procession in a long black cloak, and every now and then he wiped his eyes with a big

"'Little Hans is certainly a great loss to every one,' said the Blacksmith, when the funeral was over, and they

were all seated comfortably in the inn, drinking spiced wine and eating sweet cakes.

"'A great loss to me at any rate,' answered the Miller; 'why, I had as good as given him my wheelbarrow, and

now I really don't know what to do with it. It is very much in my way at home, and it is in such bad repair

that I could not get anything for it if I sold it. I will certainly take care not to give away anything again. One

"Oh! I really don't know," replied the Linnet; "and I am sure that I don't care."

"It is quite evident then that you have no sympathy in your nature," said the Waterrat.

"Well, really," said the Waterrat, in a very angry manner, "I think you should have told me that before you

began. If you had done so, I certainly would not have listened to you; in fact, I should have said 'Pooh,' like

the critic. However, I can say it now"; so he shouted out "Pooh" at the top of his voice, gave a whisk with his

"And how do you like the Waterrat?" asked the Duck, who came paddling up some minutes afterwards. "He

has a great many good points, but for my own part I have a mother's feelings, and I can never look at a

"I am rather afraid that I have annoyed him," answered the Linnet. "The fact is, that I told him a story with a

The King's son was going to be married, so there were general rejoicings. He had waited a whole year for his

bride, and at last she had arrived. She was a Russian Princess, and had driven all the way from Finland in a

sledge drawn by six reindeer. The sledge was shaped like a great golden swan, and between the swan's wings

lay the little Princess herself. Her long erminecloak reached right down to her feet, on her head was a tiny

cap of silver tissue, and she was as pale as the Snow Palace in which she had always lived. So pale was she

that as she drove through the streets all the people wondered. "She is like a white rose!" they cried, and they

At the gate of the Castle the Prince was waiting to receive her. He had dreamy violet eyes, and his hair was

"Your picture was beautiful," he murmured, "but you are more beautiful than your picture"; and the little

"She was like a white rose before," said a young Page to his neighbour, "but she is like a red rose now"; and

For the next three days everybody went about saying, "White rose, Red rose, Red rose, White rose"; and the

King gave orders that the Page's salary was to be doubled. As he received no salary at all this was not of

much use to him, but it was considered a great honour, and was duly published in the Court Gazette.

When the three days were over the marriage was celebrated. It was a magnificent ceremony, and the bride

and bridegroom walked hand in hand under a canopy of purple velvet embroidered with little pearls. Then

there was a State Banquet, which lasted for five hours. The Prince and Princess sat at the top of the Great Hall

and drank out of a cup of clear crystal. Only true lovers could drink out of this cup, for if false lips touched it,

"It's quite clear that they love each other," said the little Page, "as clear as crystal!" and the King doubled his

After the banquet there was to be a Ball. The bride and bridegroom were to dance the Rosedance together,

and the King had promised to play the flute. He played very badly, but no one had ever dared to tell him so,

because he was the King. Indeed, he knew only two airs, and was never quite certain which one he was

playing; but it made no matter, for, whatever he did, everybody cried out, "Charming! charming!"

The last item on the programme was a grand display of fireworks, to be let off exactly at midnight. The little

Princess had never seen a firework in her life, so the King had given orders that the Royal Pyrotechnist

"What are fireworks like?" she had asked the Prince, one morning, as she was walking on the terrace.

"They are like the Aurora Borealis," said the King, who always answered questions that were addressed to

other people, "only much more natural. I prefer them to stars myself, as you always know when they are

going to appear, and they are as delightful as my own fluteplaying. You must certainly see them."

So at the end of the King's garden a great stand had been set up, and as soon as the Royal Pyrotechnist had

"The world is certainly very beautiful," cried a little Squib. "Just look at those yellow tulips. Why! if they

were real crackers they could not be lovelier. I am very glad I have travelled. Travel improves the mind

"The King's garden is not the world, you foolish squib," said a big Roman Candle; "the world is an enormous

"Any place you love is the world to you," exclaimed a pensive Catherine Wheel, who had been attached to an

old deal box in early life, and prided herself on her broken heart; "but love is not fashionable any more, the

poets have killed it. They wrote so much about it that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. True

love suffers, and is silent. I remember myself once But it is no matter now. Romance is a thing of the past."

"Nonsense!" said the Roman Candle, "Romance never dies. It is like the moon, and lives for ever. The bride

and bridegroom, for instance, love each other very dearly. I heard all about them this morning from a

brownpaper cartridge, who happened to be staying in the same drawer as myself, and knew the latest Court

But the Catherine Wheel shook her head. "Romance is dead, Romance is dead, Romance is dead," she

murmured. She was one of those people who think that, if you say the same thing over and over a great many

It came from a tall, superciliouslooking Rocket, who was tied to the end of a long stick. He always coughed

"Ahem! ahem!" he said, and everybody listened except the poor Catherine Wheel, who was still shaking her

"Order! order!" cried out a Cracker. He was something of a politician, and had always taken a prominent part

As soon as there was perfect silence, the Rocket coughed a third time and began. He spoke with a very slow,

distinct voice, as if he was dictating his memoirs, and always looked over the shoulder of the person to whom

"How fortunate it is for the King's son," he remarked, "that he is to be married on the very day on which I am

to be let off. Really, if it had been arranged beforehand, it could not have turned out better for him; but,

"Dear me!" said the little Squib, "I thought it was quite the other way, and that we were to be let off in the

"It may be so with you," he answered; "indeed, I have no doubt that it is, but with me it is different. I am a

very remarkable Rocket, and come of remarkable parents. My mother was the most celebrated Catherine

Wheel of her day, and was renowned for her graceful dancing. When she made her great public appearance

she spun round nineteen times before she went out, and each time that she did so she threw into the air seven

pink stars. She was three feet and a half in diameter, and made of the very best gunpowder. My father was a

Rocket like myself, and of French extraction. He flew so high that the people were afraid that he would never

come down again. He did, though, for he was of a kindly disposition, and he made a most brilliant descent in

a shower of golden rain. The newspapers wrote about his performance in very flattering terms. Indeed, the

"Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean," said a Bengal Light; "I know it is Pyrotechnic, for I saw it written on

"Well, I said Pylotechnic," answered the Rocket, in a severe tone of voice, and the Bengal Light felt so

crushed that he began at once to bully the little squibs, in order to show that he was still a person of some

"Of course; I knew I was discussing some interesting subject when I was so rudely interrupted. I hate

rudeness and bad manners of every kind, for I am extremely sensitive. No one in the whole world is so

"A person who, because he has corns himself, always treads on other people's toes," answered the Roman

"That is a very selfish reason," said the Rocket angrily. "What right have you to be happy? You should be

thinking about others. In fact, you should be thinking about me. I am always thinking about myself, and I

expect everybody else to do the same. That is what is called sympathy. It is a beautiful virtue, and I possess it

in a high degree. Suppose, for instance, anything happened to me tonight, what a misfortune that would be

for every one! The Prince and Princess would never be happy again, their whole married life would be

spoiled; and as for the King, I know he would not get over it. Really, when I begin to reflect on the

"If you want to give pleasure to others," cried the Roman Candle, "you had better keep yourself dry."

"Certainly," exclaimed the Bengal Light, who was now in better spirits; "that is only common sense."

"Common sense, indeed!" said the Rocket indignantly; "you forget that I am very uncommon, and very

remarkable. Why, anybody can have common sense, provided that they have no imagination. But I have

imagination, for I never think of things as they really are; I always think of them as being quite different. As

for keeping myself dry, there is evidently no one here who can at all appreciate an emotional nature.

Fortunately for myself, I don't care. The only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of the

immense inferiority of everybody else, and this is a feeling that I have always cultivated. But none of you

have any hearts. Here you are laughing and making merry just as if the Prince and Princess had not just been

"Well, really," exclaimed a small Fireballoon, "why not? It is a most joyful occasion, and when I soar up

into the air I intend to tell the stars all about it. You will see them twinkle when I talk to them about the pretty

"Ah! what a trivial view of life!" said the Rocket; "but it is only what I expected. There is nothing in you; you

are hollow and empty. Why, perhaps the Prince and Princess may go to live in a country where there is a deep

river, and perhaps they may have one only son, a little fairhaired boy with violet eyes like the Prince

himself; and perhaps some day he may go out to walk with his nurse; and perhaps the nurse may go to sleep

under a great eldertree; and perhaps the little boy may fall into the deep river and be drowned. What a

terrible misfortune! Poor people, to lose their only son! It is really too dreadful! I shall never get over it."

"But they have not lost their only son," said the Roman Candle; "no misfortune has happened to them at all."

"I never said that they had," replied the Rocket; "I said that they might. If they had lost their only son there

would be no use in saying anything more about the matter. I hate people who cry over spilt milk. But when I

"You certainly are!" cried the Bengal Light. "In fact, you are the most affected person I ever met."

"You are the rudest person I ever met," said the Rocket, "and you cannot understand my friendship for the

"I never said I knew him," answered the Rocket. "I dare say that if I knew him I should not be his friend at

"You had really better keep yourself dry," said the Fireballoon. "That is the important thing."

"Very important for you, I have no doubt," answered the Rocket, "but I shall weep if I choose"; and he

actually burst into real tears, which flowed down his stick like raindrops, and nearly drowned two little

beetles, who were just thinking of setting up house together, and were looking for a nice dry spot to live in.

"He must have a truly romantic nature," said the Catherine Wheel, "for he weeps when there is nothing at all

But the Roman Candle and the Bengal Light were quite indignant, and kept saying, "Humbug! humbug!" at

the top of their voices. They were extremely practical, and whenever they objected to anything they called it

Then the moon rose like a wonderful silver shield; and the stars began to shine, and a sound of music came

The Prince and Princess were leading the dance. They danced so beautifully that the tall white lilies peeped in

at the window and watched them, and the great red poppies nodded their heads and beat time.

Then ten o'clock struck, and then eleven, and then twelve, and at the last stroke of midnight every one came

"Let the fireworks begin," said the King; and the Royal Pyrotechnist made a low bow, and marched down to

the end of the garden. He had six attendants with him, each of whom carried a lighted torch at the end of a

Whizz! Whizz! went the Catherine Wheel, as she spun round and round. Boom! Boom! went the Roman

Candle. Then the Squibs danced all over the place, and the Bengal Lights made everything look scarlet.

"Goodbye," cried the Fireballoon, as he soared away, dropping tiny blue sparks. Bang! Bang! answered the

Crackers, who were enjoying themselves immensely. Every one was a great success except the Remarkable

Rocket. He was so damp with crying that he could not go off at all. The best thing in him was the gunpowder,

relations, to whom he would never speak, except with a sneer, shot up into the sky like wonderful golden

flowers with blossoms of fire. Huzza! Huzza! cried the Court; and the little Princess laughed with pleasure.

"I suppose they are reserving me for some grand occasion," said the Rocket; "no doubt that is what it means,"

The next day the workmen came to put everything tidy. "This is evidently a deputation," said the Rocket; "I

will receive them with becoming dignity" so he put his nose in the air, and began to frown severely as if he

were thinking about some very important subject. But they took no notice of him at all till they were just

going away. Then one of them caught sight of him. "Hallo!" he cried, "what a bad rocket!" and he threw him

"BAD Rocket? BAD Rocket?" he said, as he whirled through the air; "impossible! GRAND Rocket, that is

what the man said. BAD and GRAND sound very much the same, indeed they often are the same"; and he

"It is not comfortable here," he remarked, "but no doubt it is some fashionable wateringplace, and they have

sent me away to recruit my health. My nerves are certainly very much shattered, and I require rest."

Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled coat, swam up to him.

"A new arrival, I see!" said the Frog. "Well, after all there is nothing like mud. Give me rainy weather and a

ditch, and I am quite happy. Do you think it will be a wet afternoon? I am sure I hope so, but the sky is quite

"What a delightful voice you have!" cried the Frog. "Really it is quite like a croak, and croaking is of course

the most musical sound in the world. You will hear our gleeclub this evening. We sit in the old duck pond

close by the farmer's house, and as soon as the moon rises we begin. It is so entrancing that everybody lies

awake to listen to us. In fact, it was only yesterday that I heard the farmer's wife say to her mother that she

could not get a wink of sleep at night on account of us. It is most gratifying to find oneself so popular."

"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket angrily. He was very much annoyed that he could not get a word in.

"A delightful voice, certainly," continued the Frog; "I hope you will come over to the duckpond. I am off to

look for my daughters. I have six beautiful daughters, and I am so afraid the Pike may meet them. He is a

perfect monster, and would have no hesitation in breakfasting off them. Well, goodbye: I have enjoyed our

"Conversation, indeed!" said the Rocket. "You have talked the whole time yourself. That is not

"Somebody must listen," answered the Frog, "and I like to do all the talking myself. It saves time, and

"I hope not," said the Frog complacently. "Arguments are extremely vulgar, for everybody in good society

holds exactly the same opinions. Goodbye a second time; I see my daughters in the distance and the little

"You are a very irritating person," said the Rocket, "and very ill bred. I hate people who talk about

themselves, as you do, when one wants to talk about oneself, as I do. It is what I call selfishness, and

selfishness is a most detestable thing, especially to any one of my temperament, for I am well known for my

sympathetic nature. In fact, you should take example by me; you could not possibly have a better model. Now

that you have the chance you had better avail yourself of it, for I am going back to Court almost immediately.

I am a great favourite at Court; in fact, the Prince and Princess were married yesterday in my honour. Of

"There is no good talking to him," said a Dragonfly, who was sitting on the top of a large brown bulrush;

"Well, that is his loss, not mine," answered the Rocket. "I am not going to stop talking to him merely because

he pays no attention. I like hearing myself talk. It is one of my greatest pleasures. I often have long

conversations all by myself, and I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am

"Then you should certainly lecture on Philosophy," said the Dragon fly; and he spread a pair of lovely gauze

"How very silly of him not to stay here!" said the Rocket. "I am sure that he has not often got such a chance

of improving his mind. However, I don't care a bit. Genius like mine is sure to be appreciated some day"; and

After some time a large White Duck swam up to him. She had yellow legs, and webbed feet, and was

"Quack, quack, quack," she said. "What a curious shape you are! May I ask were you born like that, or is it

"It is quite evident that you have always lived in the country," answered the Rocket, "otherwise you would

know who I am. However, I excuse your ignorance. It would be unfair to expect other people to be as

remarkable as oneself. You will no doubt be surprised to hear that I can fly up into the sky, and come down in

"I don't think much of that," said the Duck, "as I cannot see what use it is to any one. Now, if you could

plough the fields like the ox, or draw a cart like the horse, or look after the sheep like the colliedog, that

"My good creature," cried the Rocket in a very haughty tone of voice, "I see that you belong to the lower

orders. A person of my position is never useful. We have certain accomplishments, and that is more than

sufficient. I have no sympathy myself with industry of any kind, least of all with such industries as you seem

to recommend. Indeed, I have always been of opinion that hard work is simply the refuge of people who have

"Well, well," said the Duck, who was of a very peaceable disposition, and never quarrelled with any one,

"everybody has different tastes. I hope, at any rate, that you are going to take up your residence here."

"Oh! dear no," cried the Rocket. "I am merely a visitor, a distinguished visitor. The fact is that I find this

place rather tedious. There is neither society here, nor solitude. In fact, it is essentially suburban. I shall

probably go back to Court, for I know that I am destined to make a sensation in the world."

"I had thoughts of entering public life once myself," remarked the Duck; "there are so many things that need

reforming. Indeed, I took the chair at a meeting some time ago, and we passed resolutions condemning

everything that we did not like. However, they did not seem to have much effect. Now I go in for

"I am made for public life," said the Rocket, "and so are all my relations, even the humblest of them.

Whenever we appear we excite great attention. I have not actually appeared myself, but when I do so it will

be a magnificent sight. As for domesticity, it ages one rapidly, and distracts one's mind from higher things."

"Ah! the higher things of life, how fine they are!" said the Duck; "and that reminds me how hungry I feel":

"Come back! come back!" screamed the Rocket, "I have a great deal to say to you"; but the Duck paid no

attention to him. "I am glad that she has gone," he said to himself, "she has a decidedly middleclass mind";

and he sank a little deeper still into the mud, and began to think about the loneliness of genius, when

suddenly two little boys in white smocks came running down the bank, with a kettle and some faggots.

"This must be the deputation," said the Rocket, and he tried to look very dignified.

"Hallo!" cried one of the boys, "look at this old stick! I wonder how it came here"; and he picked the rocket

"OLD Stick!" said the Rocket, "impossible! GOLD Stick, that is what he said. Gold Stick is very

"Let us put it into the fire!" said the other boy, "it will help to boil the kettle."

So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and lit the fire.

"This is magnificent," cried the Rocket, "they are going to let me off in broad daylight, so that every one can

"We will go to sleep now," they said, "and when we wake up the kettle will be boiled"; and they lay down on

The Rocket was very damp, so he took a long time to burn. At last, however, the fire caught him.

"Now I am going off!" he cried, and he made himself very stiff and straight. "I know I shall go much higher

than the stars, much higher than the moon, much higher than the sun. In fact, I shall go so high that "

"Delightful!" he cried, "I shall go on like this for ever. What a success I am!"

"Now I am going to explode," he cried. "I shall set the whole world on fire, and make such a noise that

nobody will talk about anything else for a whole year." And he certainly did explode. Bang! Bang! Bang!

Then all that was left of him was the stick, and this fell down on the back of a Goose who was taking a walk

"Good heavens!" cried the Goose. "It is going to rain sticks"; and she rushed into the water.