《安徒生童话英文版》第114章

　　And the willow-tree nodded his head, as if he would say, "Indeed Ido."

　　But the buckwheat spread itself out with pride, and said,"Stupid tree; he is so old that grass grows out of his body."

　　There arose a very terrible storm. All the field-flowers foldedtheir leaves together, or bowed their little heads, while the stormpassed over them, but the buckwheat stood erect in its pride. "Bendyour head as we do," said the flowers.

　　"I have no occasion to do so," replied the buckwheat.

　　"Bend your head as we do," cried the ears of corn; "the angel ofthe storm is coming; his wings spread from the sky above to theearth beneath. He will strike you down before you can cry for mercy."

　　"But I will not bend my head," said the buckwheat.

　　"Close your flowers and bend your leaves," said the oldwillow-tree. "Do not look at the lightning when the cloud bursts; evenmen cannot do that. In a flash of lightning heaven opens, and we canlook in; but the sight will strike even human beings blind. Whatthen must happen to us, who only grow out of the earth, and are soinferior to them, if we venture to do so?"

　　"Inferior, indeed!" said the buckwheat. "Now I intend to have apeep into heaven." Proudly and boldly he looked up, while thelightning flashed across the sky as if the whole world were in flames.

　　When the dreadful storm had passed, the flowers and the cornraised their drooping heads in the pure still air, refreshed by therain, but the buckwheat lay like a weed in the field, burnt toblackness by the lightning. The branches of the old willow-treerustled in the wind, and large water-drops fell from his green leavesas if the old willow were weeping. Then the sparrows asked why he wasweeping, when all around him seemed so cheerful. "See," they said,how the sun shines, and the clouds float in the blue sky. Do you notsmell the sweet perfume from flower and bush? Wherefore do you weep,old willow-tree?" Then the willow told them of the haughty pride ofthe buckwheat, and of the punishment which followed in consequence.

　　This is the story told me by the sparrows one evening when Ibegged them to relate some tale to me.

　　THE END.

　　1872

　　FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

　　THE BUTTERFLY

　　by Hans Christian Andersen

　　THERE was once a butterfly who wished for a bride, and, as maybe supposed, he wanted to choose a very pretty one from among theflowers. He glanced, with a very critical eye, at all the flower-beds,and found that the flowers were seated quietly and demurely on theirstalks, just as maidens should sit before they are engaged; butthere was a great number of them, and it appeared as if his searchwould become very wearisome. The butterfly did not like to take toomuch trouble, so he flew off on a visit to the daisies. The Frenchcall this flower "Marguerite," and they say that the little daisycan prophesy. Lovers pluck off the leaves, and as they pluck eachleaf, they ask a question about their lovers; thus: "Does he or shelove me?- Ardently? Distractedly? Very much? A little? Not at all?"and so on. Every one speaks these words in his own language. Thebutterfly came also to Marguerite to inquire, but he did not pluck offher leaves; he pressed a kiss on each of them, for he thought therewas always more to be done by kindness.

　　"Darling Marguerite daisy," he said to her, "you are the wisestwoman of all the flowers. Pray tell me which of the flowers I shallchoose for my wife. Which will be my bride? When I know, I will flydirectly to her, and propose."

　　But Marguerite did not answer him; she was offended that he shouldcall her a woman when she was only a girl; and there is a greatdifference. He asked her a second time, and then a third; but sheremained dumb, and answered not a word. Then he would wait nolonger, but flew away, to commence his wooing at once. It was in theearly spring, when the crocus and the snowdrop were in full bloom.

　　"They are very pretty," thought the butterfly; "charming littlelasses; but they are rather formal."

　　Then, as the young lads often do, he looked out for the eldergirls. He next flew to the anemones; these were rather sour to histaste. The violet, a little too sentimental. The lime-blossoms, toosmall, and besides, there was such a large family of them. Theapple-blossoms, though they looked like roses, bloomed to-day, butmight fall off to-morrow, with the first wind that blew; and hethought that a marriage with one of them might last too short atime. The pea-blossom pleased him most of all; she was white andred, graceful and slender, and belonged to those domestic maidenswho have a pretty appearance, and can yet be useful in the kitchen. Hewas just about to make her an offer, when, close by the maiden, he sawa pod, with a withered flower hanging at the end.

　　"Who is that?"