安徒生童話故事第30篇：接骨木樹媽媽The Little Elder-Tree Moth
引導語：接骨木樹媽媽是安徒生童話故事集的第30篇，下面是小編收集的中英文版本的，歡迎大家閱讀!
從前有一個很小的孩子，他患了傷風，病倒了。他到外面去過，把一雙腳全打濕了。誰也不知道他是怎樣打濕的，因為天氣很干燥。現在他媽媽把他的衣服脫掉，送他上床去睡，同時叫人把開水壺拿進來，為他泡了一杯很香的接骨木茶①，因為茶可以使人感到溫暖。這時有一個很有趣的老人走到門口來;他一個人住在這屋子的最高一層樓上，非常孤獨。因為他沒有太太，也沒有孩子。但是他卻非常喜歡小孩，而且知道很多童話和故事。聽他講故事是很愉快的。
“現在你得喝茶，”母親說，“然后才可以聽一個故事。”
“哎!我只希望我能講一個新的故事!”老人說，和善地點了點頭。“不過這小家伙是在什么地方把一雙腳弄濕了的呢?”他問。
“不錯，在什么地方呢?”媽媽說，“誰也想象不出來。”
“講一個童話給我聽吧?”孩子問。
“好，不過我得先知道一件事情：你能不能確實地告訴我，你上學校時經過的那條街，那兒陰溝有多深。”
“如果我把腳伸到那條陰溝最深的地方，”孩子回答說，
“那么水恰恰淹到我的小腿。”
“你看，我們的腳就是這樣弄濕了的，”老人說。“現在我卻是應該講一個童話給你聽了;不過我的童話都講完了。”
“你可以馬上編一個出來，”小孩說。“媽媽說，你能把你所看到的東西編成童話，你也能把你所摸過的東西都講成一個故事。”
“不錯，不過這些童話和故事算不了什么!不，真正的故事是自己走來的。它們敲著我的前額，說：‘我來了!’”
“它們會不會馬上就來敲一下呢?”小孩問。媽媽大笑了一聲，把接骨木葉放進壺里，然后把開水倒進去。
“講呀!講呀!”
“對，假如童話自動來了的話。不過這類東西架子是很大的;它只有高興的時候才來——等著吧!”他忽然叫出聲來，“它現在來了。請看吧，它現在就在茶壺里面。”
于是小孩向茶壺望去。茶壺蓋慢慢地自動立起來了，好幾朵接骨木花，又白又新鮮，從茶壺里冒出來了。它們長出又粗又長的枝丫，并且從茶壺嘴那兒向四面展開，越展越寬，形成一個最美麗的接骨木叢——事實上是一棵完整的樹。這樹甚至伸到床上來，把帳幔分向兩邊。它是多么香，它的花開得多么茂盛啊!在這樹的正中央坐著一個很親切的老太婆。她穿著奇異的服裝——它像接骨木葉子一樣，也是綠色的，同時還綴著大朵的白色接骨木花。第一眼誰也看不出來，這衣服究竟是布做的呢，還是活著的綠葉和花朵。
“這個老太婆的名字叫什么?”小孩問。
老人回答說：“羅馬人和希臘人把她叫樹仙。不過我們不懂得這一套：我們住在水手區的人替她取了一個更好的名字。那兒的人把她叫做‘接骨木樹媽媽’。你應該注意的就是她：現在你注意聽著和看著這棵美麗的接骨木樹吧。
“水手住宅區里就有這么一棵開著花的大樹。它生長在一個簡陋的小院的角落里。一天下午，當太陽照得非常美好的時候，有兩個老人坐在這棵樹下。他們一個是很老很老的水手;另一個是他很老很老的妻子。他們已經是曾祖父母了;不久他們就要慶祝他們的金婚②。不過他們記不清日期。接骨木樹媽媽坐在樹上，樣子很高興，正如她在這兒一樣。‘我知道金婚應該是在哪一天，’她說，但是他們沒有聽到——他們在談著他們過去的一些日子。
“‘是的，’老水手說，‘你記得嗎，我們小的時候，常常在一起跑來跑去，在一起玩耍!那正是在這個院子里，我們現在坐的這個院子里。我們在這里面栽過許多樹枝，把它變成一個花園。’
“‘是的，’老太婆回答說，‘我記得很清楚：我們在那些樹枝上澆過水，它們之中有一根是接骨木樹枝。這樹枝生了根，發了綠芽，現在變成了這樣一棵大樹——我們老年人現在就在它下面坐著。’
“‘一點也不錯，’他說，‘在那兒的一個角落里有一個水盆;我把我的船放在那上面浮著——我自己剪的一只船。它航行得真好!但是不久我自己也航行起來了，不過方式不同罷了。’
“‘是的，我們先進學校，學習了一點什么東西，’她說，‘接著我們就受了堅信禮③;我們兩個人都哭起來了。不過在下午我們就手挽著手爬到圓塔上去，我們把哥本哈根和大海以外的這個廣大世界凝望了好一會兒。于是我們又到佛列得里克斯堡公園④去——國王和王后常常在這兒的運河上駕著華麗的船航行。’
“‘不過我得用另一種方式去航行，而且一去就是幾年，那是很遼遠的長途航行。’
“‘對，我常常想你想得哭起來，’她說，‘我以為你死了，沒有了，躺在深水底下，在跟波浪嬉戲。該是有多少個夜晚我爬起床來，去看風信雞是不是在轉動。是的，它轉動起來了，但是你沒有回來。我記得很清楚，有一天雨是下得很大。那個收垃圾的人來到我主人的門口。我提著垃圾桶走下來，到門口那兒我就站著不動。——天氣是多么壞啊!當我正在站著的時候，郵差走到我身旁來了，交給我一封信。是你寫來的信啦!這封信該是旅行了多少路程啊!我馬上把它撕開，念著。我笑著，我哭著，我是那么高興呀。事情現在明白了，你正生活在一個出產咖啡豆的溫暖國度里。那一定是一個非常美麗的國度!你信上寫了許多事情，我在大雨傾盆的時候讀它，站在一個垃圾桶旁邊讀它。正在這時候來了一個人，他雙手把我的腰抱住!——’
“‘——一點也不錯，于是你就結結實實地給了他一記耳光——一記很響亮的耳光。’
“‘我不知道那人就是你啦。你跟你的信來得一樣快。你那時是一個美男子——現在還是這樣。你袋里裝著一條絲織的長手帕，你頭上戴著光亮的帽子。你是那么漂亮!天啦，那時的天氣真壞，街上真難看!’
“‘接著我們就結婚了，’他說，‘你記得嗎?接著我們就得了第一個孩子，接著瑪莉，接著尼爾斯，接著比得和漢斯·克利斯仙都出生了。’
“‘他們大家都長得多么好，成為大家所喜受的、善良的人!’
“‘于是他們的孩子又生了他們自己的孩子，’老水手說。‘是的，那些都是孩子們的孩子!他們都長得很好。——假如我沒有記錯的話，我們正是在這個季節里結婚的。——’
“‘是的，今天是你們的結婚紀念日，’接骨木樹媽媽說，同時把她的頭伸到這兩個老人的中間來。他們還以為這是隔壁的一位太太在向他們點頭呢。他們互相望了一眼，同時彼此握著手。不一會兒，他們的兒子和孫子都來了;他們都知道這是金婚紀念日。他們早晨就已經來祝賀過，不過這對老夫婦卻把這日子忘記了，雖然多少年以前發生的一切事情，他們還能記得很清楚。接骨木樹發出強烈的香氣。正在下沉的太陽照在這對老夫婦的臉上，弄得他們的雙頰都泛出一陣紅暈來。他們最小的孫子們圍著他們跳舞，興高采烈地叫著，說是今晚將有一個宴會——那時他們將會吃到熱烘烘的土豆!接骨木樹媽媽在樹上點點頭，跟大家一起喊著：‘好!’”
“不過這并不是一個童話呀!”小孩聽完了說。
“唔，假如你能聽懂它的話，”講這段故事的老人說。“不過讓我來問問接骨木樹媽媽的意見吧。”
“這并不是一個童話，”接骨木樹媽媽說。“可是現在它來了;最奇異的童話是從真實的生活里產生出來的，否則我的美麗的接骨木樹叢就不會從茶壺里冒出來了。”
于是她把這孩子從床上抱起來，摟到自己的懷里，開滿了花的接骨木樹枝向他們合攏來，使他們好像坐在濃密的樹蔭里一樣，而這片樹蔭帶著他們一起在空中飛行。這真是說不出的美麗!接骨木樹媽媽立刻變成了一個漂亮的少女，不過她的衣服依然跟接骨木樹媽媽所穿的一樣，是用綴著白花的綠色料子做成的。她的胸前戴著一朵真正的接骨木花，黃色的卷發上有一個用接骨木花做成的花圈;她的一雙眼睛又大又藍。啊，她的樣子該是多么美麗。啊!她和這個男孩互相吻著，他們現在是同樣的年紀，感覺到同樣的快樂。
他們手挽著手走出了這片樹蔭。他們現在是在家里美麗的花園里面。爸爸的手杖是系在新鮮草坪旁邊的一根木柱上。在這個孩子的眼中，它是有生命的。當他們一起到它上面的時候，它光亮的頭便變成了一個漂亮的嘶鳴的馬首，上面披著長長的黑色馬鬃，它還長出了四條瘦長而結實的腿。這牲口是既強壯而又有精神。他們騎著它沿著這草坪馳騁——真叫人喝彩!
“現在我們要騎到許多許多里以外的地方去，”這孩子說;“我們要騎到一位貴族的莊園里去!——我們去年到那兒去過。”
他們不停地繞著這個草坪奔馳。那個小女孩子——我們知道她就是接骨木樹媽媽——在不停地叫著：
“現在我們來到鄉下了!你看到那種田人的房子嗎?它的那個大面包爐，從墻壁里凸出來，看起來像路旁的一只龐大的蛋。接骨木樹在這屋子上面伸展著枝子，公雞在走來走去，為它的母雞扒土。你看它那副高視闊步的神氣!——現在我們快要到教堂附近了。它高高地立在一座山丘上，在一叢櫟樹的中間——其中有一株已經半死了。——現在我們來到了熔鐵爐旁邊，火在熊熊地燒，打著赤膊的人在揮著錘子打鐵，弄得火星迸發。去啊，去啊，到那位貴族的華美的莊園里去啊!”
那個在他后面坐在手杖上的小姑娘所講的東西，都一一在他們眼前出現了。雖然他們只不過在繞著一個草坪兜圈子，這男孩子卻能把這些東西都看得清清楚楚。他們在人行道上玩耍，還在地上劃出一個小花園來。于是她從她的頭發上取出接骨木樹的花朵，把它們栽下，隨后它們就長大起來，像那對老年夫婦小時在水手住宅區里所栽的樹一樣——這事我們已經講過了。他們手挽著手走著，完全像那對老年夫婦兒時的情形，不過他們不是走上圓塔，也不是走向佛列得里克斯堡公園去。——不是的，這小女孩子抱著這男孩子的腰，他們在整個丹麥飛來飛去。
那時是春天，接著夏天到來了，于是又是秋天，最后冬天也到來了。成千成百的景物映在這孩子的眼里和心上，這小姑娘也不停地對他唱：“這些東西你永遠也忘記不了的!”
在他們整個飛行的過程中，接骨木樹一直在散發著甜蜜和芬芳的香氣：他也聞到了玫瑰花和新鮮的山毛櫸，可是接骨木樹的香氣比它們還要美妙，因為它的花朵就懸在這小女孩子的心上，而且當他們飛行的時候，他就常常把頭靠著這些花朵。
“春天在這兒是多么美麗啊!”小姑娘說。
他們站在長滿了新葉子的山毛櫸林里，綠色的車葉草在他們的腳下散發著香氣;淡紅的秋牡丹在這一起綠色中顯得分外的華麗。
“啊，唯愿春天永遠留在這芬芳的丹麥山毛櫸林中!”
“夏天在這兒是多么美麗啊!”她說。
于是他們走過騎士時代的那些古宮。這些古宮的紅墻和鋸齒形的山形墻倒映在小河里——這兒有許多天鵝在游著，在了望那古老的林蔭大道，在了望田野里的小麥泛起一層波浪，好像這就是一個大海似的。田溝里長滿了黃色和紅色的花，籬笆上長著野蛇麻⑤和盛開的牽牛花。月亮在黃昏的時候向上升，又圓又大;草坪上的干草堆發出甜蜜的香氣。“人們永遠也不會忘記這些東西!”
“秋天在這兒是多么美麗啊!”小姑娘說。
于是天空顯得比以前加倍的高闊，加倍的蔚藍;樹林染上最華美的紅色、黃色和綠色。獵犬在追逐著;整群的雁兒在遠古的土墳上飛過，發出凄涼的叫聲;荊棘叢在古墓碑上糾做一團。海是深藍色的，上面點綴著一些白帆。老太婆、少女和小孩坐在打麥場上，把蛇麻的果穗摘下來扔進一只大桶里。這時年輕人唱著山歌，老年人講著關于小鬼和妖精的童話。什么地方也沒有這兒好。
“冬天在這兒是多么美麗啊!”小姑娘說。
于是所有的樹上全蓋滿了白霜，看起來像白色的珊瑚。雪在人們的腳下發出清脆的聲音，好像人們全穿上了新靴子似的。隕星一個接著一個從天上落下來。在屋子里，圣誕節樹上的燈都亮起來了。這兒有禮品，有快樂。在鄉下，農人的屋子里奏起了小提琴，人們在玩著搶蘋果的游戲;就是最窮苦的孩子也說：“冬天是美麗的!”
是的，那是美麗的。小姑娘把每樣東西都指給這個孩子看;接骨木樹永遠在發出香氣;繪有白十字架的紅旗⑥永遠在飄動著——住在水手區的那個老水手就是在這個旗幟下出外去航海的。這個小孩子成了一個年輕人，他得走到廣大的世界里去，遠遠地走到生長咖啡的那些熱帶的國度里去。在別離的時候，小姑娘把她戴在胸前的那朵接骨木花取下來，送給他作為紀念。它被夾在一本《贊美詩集》里。在外國，當他一翻開這本詩集的時候，總是翻到夾著這朵紀念花的地方。他越看得久，這朵花就越顯得新鮮，他好像覺得呼吸到了丹麥樹林里的新鮮空氣。這時他就清楚地看到，那個小姑娘正在花瓣之間睜著明朗的藍眼睛，向外面凝望。于是她低聲說：“春天、夏天、秋天和冬天在這兒是多么美麗啊!”于是成千成百的畫面，就在他的思想中浮過去了。
這么著，許多年過去了;他現在成了一個老頭兒，跟他年老的妻子坐在一棵開滿了花的樹下：他們兩人互相握著手，正如以前住在水手區的高祖母和高祖父一樣。也像這對老祖宗一樣，談著他們過去的日子，談著金婚。這位有一雙藍眼珠的、頭上戴著接骨木花的小姑娘，坐在樹上，向這對老夫婦點著頭，說：“今天是你們金婚的日子啦!”于是她從她的花環上取下兩朵花，把它們吻了一下;它們便射出光來，起先像銀子，然后像金子。當她把它們戴到這對老夫婦的頭上時，每朵花就變成了一個金色的王冠。他們兩人坐在那株散發著香氣的樹下，像國王和王后。這樹的樣子完全像一棵接骨木樹。他對他年老的妻子講著關于接骨木樹媽媽的故事，他把他兒時從別人那兒聽到的全都講出來。他們覺得這故事有許多地方像他們自己的生活，而這相似的一部分就是這故事中他們最喜歡的一部分。
“是的，事情的確是這樣!”坐在樹上的那個小姑娘說。
“有人把我叫做接骨木樹媽媽，也有人把我叫做樹神，不過我的真正的名字是'回憶'。我就坐在樹里，不停地生長;我能夠回憶過去，我能講出以往的事情。讓我看看，你是不是仍然保留著你的那朵花。”
老頭兒翻開他的《贊美詩集》;那朵接骨木花仍然夾在里面，非常新鮮，好像剛剛才放進去似的。于是“回憶”姑娘點點頭。這時頭戴金色王冠的老夫妻坐在紅色的斜陽里，閉起眼睛，于是——于是——童話就完了。
那個躺在床上的小孩子，不曉得自己是在做夢呢，還是有人對他講了這個童話。茶壺仍然在桌上：但是并沒有接骨木樹從它里面長出來。講這童話的那個老人正在向門外走——事實上他已經走了。
“那是多么美啊!”小孩子說。“媽媽，我剛才到熱帶的國度里去過一趟!”
“是的，我相信你去過!”媽媽回答說。“當你喝了兩滿杯滾熱的接骨木茶的時候，你很容易就會走到熱帶國度里去的!”——于是她把他蓋好，免得他受到寒氣。“當我正在坐著、跟他爭論究竟那是一個故事還是一個童話的時候，你睡得香極了。”
“那么接骨木樹媽媽到底在什么地方呢?”小孩子問。“她在茶壺里面，”媽媽回答說;“而且她盡可以在那里面待下去!”
①接骨木樹是一種落葉灌木或小喬木。葉對生，羽狀復葉，卵形或橢圓形，揉碎后有臭氣。春季開黃色小花。莖枝可以入藥，味甘苦，功能祛風濕。這里說的接骨木茶當是治病用的。
②歐洲人的風俗，把結婚50周年叫做“金婚”。
③在基督教國家中，一個小孩子出生不久以后，受一次入教的洗禮。到了十四五歲、能懂事的時候，必須再受一次洗禮，叫做堅信禮，以加強對宗教的信仰。一個小孩子受了這次洗禮以后，就算已經成人，可以自立謀生了。
④這是哥本哈根的一個大公園。
⑤蛇麻(Humle)是一種多年生草本植物，也叫忽布或啤酒花。它的果穗呈球果狀，是制造啤酒的重要原料。
⑥這就是丹麥的國旗。
接骨木樹媽媽英文版：
The Little Elder-Tree Mother
THERE was once a little boy who had caught cold; he had gone out and got wet feet. Nobody had the least idea how it had happened; the weather was quite dry. His mother undressed him, put him to bed, and ordered the teapot to be brought in, that she might make him a good cup of tea from the elder-tree blossoms, which is so warming. At the same time, the kind-hearted old man who lived by himself in the upper storey of the house came in; he led a lonely life, for he had no wife and children; but he loved the children of others very much, and he could tell so many fairy tales and stories, that it was a pleasure to hear him.
“Now, drink your tea,” said the mother; “perhaps you will hear a story.”
“Yes, if I only knew a fresh one,” said the old man, and nodded smilingly. “But how did the little fellow get his wet feet?” he then asked.
“That,” replied the mother, “nobody can understand.”
“Will you tell me a story?” asked the boy.
“Yes, if you can tell me as nearly as possible how deep is the gutter in the little street where you go to school.”
“Just half as high as my top-boots,” replied the boy; “but then I must stand in the deepest holes.”
“There, now we know where you got your wet feet,” said the old man. “I ought to tell you a story, but the worst of it is, I do not know any more.”
“You can make one up,” said the little boy. “Mother says you can tell a fairy tale about anything you look at or touch.”
“That is all very well, but such tales or stories are worth nothing! No, the right ones come by themselves and knock at my forehead saying: ‘Here I am.’”
“Will not one knock soon?” asked the boy; and the mother smiled while she put elder-tree blossoms into the teapot and poured boiling water over them. “Pray, tell me a story.”
“Yes, if stories came by themselves; they are so proud, they only come when they please.—But wait,” he said suddenly, “there is one. Look at the teapot; there is a story in it now.”
And the little boy looked at the teapot; the lid rose up gradually, the elder-tree blossoms sprang forth one by one, fresh and white; long boughs came forth; even out of the spout they grew up in all directions, and formed a bush—nay, a large elder tree, which stretched its branches up to the bed and pushed the curtains aside; and there were so many blossoms and such a sweet fragrance! In the midst of the tree sat a kindly-looking old woman with a strange dress; it was as green as the leaves, and trimmed with large white blossoms, so that it was difficult to say whether it was real cloth, or the leaves and blossoms of the elder-tree.
“What is this woman’s name?” asked the little boy.
“Well, the Romans and Greeks used to call her a Dryad,” said the old man; “but we do not understand that. Out in the sailors’ quarter they give her a better name; there she is called elder-tree mother. Now, you must attentively listen to her and look at the beautiful elder-tree.
“Just such a large tree, covered with flowers, stands out there; it grew in the corner of an humble little yard; under this tree sat two old people one afternoon in the beautiful sunshine. He was an old, old sailor, and she his old wife; they had already great-grandchildren, and were soon to celebrate their golden wedding, but they could not remember the date, and the elder-tree mother was sitting in the tree and looked as pleased as this one here. ‘I know very well when the golden wedding is to take place,’ she said; but they did not hear it—they were talking of bygone days.
“‘Well, do you remember?’ said the old sailor, ‘when we were quite small and used to run about and play—it was in the very same yard where we now are—we used to put little branches into the ground and make a garden.’
“‘Yes,’ said the old woman, ‘I remember it very well; we used to water the branches, and one of them, an elder-tree branch, took root, and grew and became the large tree under which we are now sitting as old people.’
“‘Certainly, you are right,’ he said; ‘and in yonder corner stood a large water-tub; there I used to sail my boat, which I had cut out myself—it sailed so well; but soon I had to sail somewhere else.’
“‘But first we went to school to learn something,’ she said, ‘and then we were confirmed; we both wept on that day, but in the afternoon we went out hand in hand, and ascended the high round tower and looked out into the wide world right over Copenhagen and the sea; then we walked to Fredericksburg, where the king and the queen were sailing about in their magnificent boat on the canals.’
“‘But soon I had to sail about somewhere else, and for many years I was travelling about far away from home.’
“‘And I often cried about you, for I was afraid lest you were drowned and lying at the bottom of the sea. Many a time I got up in the night and looked if the weathercock had turned; it turned often, but you did not return. I remember one day distinctly: the rain was pouring down in torrents; the dust-man had come to the house where I was in service; I went down with the dust-bin and stood for a moment in the doorway, and looked at the dreadful weather. Then the postman gave me a letter; it was from you. Heavens! how that letter had travelled about. I tore it open and read it; I cried and laughed at the same time, and was so happy! Therein was written that you were staying in the hot countries, where the coffee grows. These must be marvellous countries. You said a great deal about them, and I read all while the rain was pouring down and I was standing there with the dust-bin. Then suddenly some one put his arm round my waist—’
“‘Yes, and you gave him a hearty smack on the cheek,’ said the old man.
“‘I did not know that it was you—you had come as quickly as your letter; and you looked so handsome, and so you do still. You had a large yellow silk handkerchief in your pocket and a shining hat on. You looked so well, and the weather in the street was horrible!’
“‘Then we married,’ he said. ‘Do you remember how we got our first boy, and then Mary, Niels, Peter, John, and Christian?’
‘Oh yes; and now they have all grown up, and have become useful members of society, whom everybody cares for.’
“‘And their children have had children again,’ said the old sailor. ‘Yes, these are children’s children, and they are strong and healthy. If I am not mistaken, our wedding took place at this season of the year.’
“‘Yes, to-day is your golden wedding-day,’ said the little elder-tree mother, stretching her head down between the two old people, who thought that she was their neighbour who was nodding to them; they looked at each other and clasped hands. Soon afterwards the children and grandchildren came, for they knew very well that it was the golden wedding-day; they had already wished them joy and happiness in the morning, but the old people had forgotten it, although they remembered things so well that had passed many, many years ago. The elder-tree smelt strongly, and the setting sun illuminated the faces of the two old people, so that they looked quite rosy; the youngest of the grandchildren danced round them, and cried merrily that there would be a feast in the evening, for they were to have hot potatoes; and the elder mother nodded in the tree and cried ‘Hooray’ with the others.”
“But that was no fairy tale,” said the little boy who had listened to it.
“You will presently understand it,” said the old man who told the story. “Let us ask little elder-tree mother about it.”
“That was no fairy tale,” said the little elder-tree mother; “but now it comes! Real life furnishes us with subjects for the most wonderful fairy tales; for otherwise my beautiful elder-bush could not have grown forth out of the teapot.”
And then she took the little boy out of bed and placed him on her bosom; the elder branches, full of blossoms, closed over them; it was as if they sat in a thick leafy bower which flew with them through the air; it was beautiful beyond all description. The little elder-tree mother had suddenly become a charming young girl, but her dress was still of the same green material, covered with white blossoms, as the elder-tree mother had worn; she had a real elder blossom on her bosom, and a wreath of the same flowers was wound round her curly golden hair; her eyes were so large and so blue that it was wonderful to look at them. She and the boy kissed each other, and then they were of the same age and felt the same joys. They walked hand in hand out of the bower, and now stood at home in a beautiful flower garden. Near the green lawn the father’s walking-stick was tied to a post. There was life in this stick for the little ones, for as soon as they seated themselves upon it the polished knob turned into a neighing horse’s head, a long black mane was fluttering in the wind, and four strong slender legs grew out. The animal was fiery and spirited; they galloped round the lawn. “Hooray! now we shall ride far away, many miles!” said the boy; “we shall ride to the nobleman’s estate where we were last year.” And they rode round the lawn again, and the little girl, who, as we know, was no other than the little elder-tree mother, continually cried, “Now we are in the country! Do you see the farmhouse there, with the large baking stove, which projects like a gigantic egg out of the wall into the road? The elder-tree spreads its branches over it, and the cock struts about and scratches for the hens. Look how proud he is! Now we are near the church; it stands on a high hill, under the spreading oak trees; one of them is half dead! Now we are at the smithy, where the fire roars and the half-naked men beat with their hammers so that the sparks fly far and wide. Let’s be off to the beautiful farm!” And they passed by everything the little girl, who was sitting behind on the stick, described, and the boy saw it, and yet they only went round the lawn. Then they played in a side-walk, and marked out a little garden on the ground; she took elder-blossoms out of her hair and planted them, and they grew exactly like those the old people planted when they were children, as we have heard before. They walked about hand in hand, just as the old couple had done when they were little, but they did not go to the round tower nor to the Fredericksburg garden. No; the little girl seized the boy round the waist, and then they flew far into the country. It was spring and it became summer, it was autumn and it became winter, and thousands of pictures reflected themselves in the boy’s eyes and heart, and the little girl always sang again, “You will never forget that!” And during their whole flight the elder-tree smelt so sweetly; he noticed the roses and the fresh beeches, but the elder-tree smelt much stronger, for the flowers were fixed on the little girl’s bosom, against which the boy often rested his head during the flight.
“It is beautiful here in spring,” said the little girl, and they were again in the green beechwood, where the thyme breathed forth sweet fragrance at their feet, and the pink anemones looked lovely in the green moss. “Oh! that it were always spring in the fragrant beechwood!”
“Here it is splendid in summer!” she said, and they passed by old castles of the age of chivalry. The high walls and indented battlements were reflected in the water of the ditches, on which swans were swimming and peering into the old shady avenues. The corn waved in the field like a yellow sea. Red and yellow flowers grew in the ditches, wild hops and convolvuli in full bloom in the hedges. In the evening the moon rose, large and round, and the hayricks in the meadows smelt sweetly. “One can never forget it!”
“Here it is beautiful in autumn!” said the little girl, and the atmosphere seemed twice as high and blue, while the wood shone with crimson, green, and gold. The hounds were running off, flocks of wild fowl flew screaming over the barrows, while the bramble bushes twined round the old stones. The dark-blue sea was covered with white-sailed ships, and in the barns sat old women, girls, and children picking hops into a large tub; the young ones sang songs, and the old people told fairy tales about goblins and sorcerers. It could not be more pleasant anywhere.
“Here it’s agreeable in winter!” said the little girl, and all the trees were covered with hoar-frost, so that they looked like white coral. The snow creaked under one’s feet, as if one had new boots on. One shooting star after another traversed the sky. In the room the Christmas tree was lit, and there were song and merriment. In the peasant’s cottage the violin sounded, and games were played for apple quarters; even the poorest child said, “It is beautiful in winter!”
And indeed it was beautiful! And the little girl showed everything to the boy, and the elder-tree continued to breathe forth sweet perfume, while the red flag with the white cross was streaming in the wind; it was the flag under which the old sailor had served. The boy became a youth; he was to go out into the wide world, far away to the countries where the coffee grows. But at parting the little girl took an elder-blossom from her breast and gave it to him as a keepsake. He placed it in his prayer-book, and when he opened it in distant lands it was always at the place where the flower of remembrance was lying; and the more he looked at it the fresher it became, so that he could almost smell the fragrance of the woods at home. He distinctly saw the little girl, with her bright blue eyes, peeping out from behind the petals, and heard her whispering, “Here it is beautiful in spring, in summer, in autumn, and in winter,” and hundreds of pictures passed through his mind.
Thus many years rolled by. He had now become an old man, and was sitting, with his old wife, under an elder-tree in full bloom. They held each other by the hand exactly as the great-grandfather and the great-grandmother had done outside, and, like them, they talked about bygone days and of their golden wedding. The little girl with the blue eyes and elder-blossoms in her hair was sitting high up in the tree, and nodded to them, saying, “To-day is the golden wedding!” And then she took two flowers out of her wreath and kissed them. They glittered at first like silver, then like gold, and when she placed them on the heads of the old people each flower became a golden crown. There they both sat like a king and queen under the sweet-smelling tree, which looked exactly like an elder-tree, and he told his wife the story of the elder-tree mother as it had been told him when he was a little boy. They were both of opinion that the story contained many points like their own, and these similarities they liked best.
“Yes, so it is,” said the little girl in the tree. “Some call me Little Elder-tree Mother; others a Dryad; but my real name is ‘Remembrance.’ It is I who sit in the tree which grows and grows. I can remember things and tell stories! But let’s see if you have still got your flower.”
And the old man opened his prayer-book; the elder-blossom was still in it, and as fresh as if it had only just been put in. Remembrance nodded, and the two old people, with the golden crowns on their heads, sat in the glowing evening sun. They closed their eyes and—and—
Well, now the story is ended! The little boy in bed did not know whether he had dreamt it or heard it told; the teapot stood on the table, but no elder-tree was growing out of it, and the old man who had told the story was on the point of leaving the room, and he did go out.
“How beautiful it was!” said the little boy. “Mother, I have been to warm countries!”
“I believe you,” said the mother; “if one takes two cups of hot elder-tea it is quite natural that one gets into warm countries!” And she covered him up well, so that he might not take cold. “You have slept soundly while I was arguing with the old man whether it was a story or a fairy tale!”
“And what has become of the little elder-tree mother?” asked the boy.
“She is in the teapot,” said the mother; “and there she may remain.”
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