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The
old goblin from Norway, who lives in the ancient Dovre mountains, and who
possesses many castles built of rock and freestone, besides a gold mine, which
is better than all, so it is thought, is coming with his two sons, who are both
seeking a wife. The old goblin is a true-hearted, honest, old Norwegian
graybeard; cheerful and straightforward. I knew him formerly, when we used to
drink together to our good fellowship: he came here once to fetch his wife, she
is dead now. She was the daughter of the king of the chalk-hills at
Moen.
The old goblin is a true-hearted, honest, old Norwegian graybeard;
cheerful and straightforward. I knew him formerly, when we used to drink
together to our good fellowship: he came here once to fetch his wife, she is
dead now. She was the daughter of the king of the chalk-hills at Moen. They say
he took his wife from chalk; I shall be delighted to see him again. It is said
that the boys are ill-bred, forward lads, but perhaps that is not quite correct,
and they will become better as they grow older.
Let me see that you know
how to teach them good manners." "And when are they coming?" asked the daughter.
"That depends upon wind and weather," said the elf king; "they travel
economically. They will come when there is the chance of a ship. I wanted them
to come over to Sweden, but the old man was not inclined to take my advice. He
does not go forward with the times, and that I do not like." Two
will-o'-the-wisps came jumping in, one quicker than the other, so of course, one
arrived first.
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But pray
make yourself at home; it is easy to make one's self comfortable. I am myself
from a foreign country, as you may see by my feathery dress. My drake is a
native of these parts; he's not of my race; but I am not proud on that account.
If any one here can understand you, I may say positively I am that person."
"She's quite full of 'Portulak,'" said a little common duck, who was witty. All
the common ducks considered the word "Portulak" a good joke, for it sounded like
Portugal.
They nudged each other, and said, "Quack! that was witty!" Then
the other ducks began to notice the little bird. "The Portuguese had certainly a
great flow of language," they said to the little bird. "For our part we don't
care to fill our beaks with such long words, but we sympathize with you quite as
much. If we don't do anything else, we can walk about with you everywhere, and
we think that is the best thing we can do." "You have a lovely voice," said one
of the eldest ducks; "it must be great satisfaction to you to be able to give so
much pleasure as you do.
"You have a lovely voice," said one of the
eldest ducks; "it must be great satisfaction to you to be able to give so much
pleasure as you do. I am certainly no judge of your singing so I keep my beak
shut, which is better than talking nonsense, as others do." "Don't plague him
so, interposed the Portuguese duck; "he requires rest and nursing. My little
singing-bird do you wish me to prepare another bath for you?" "Oh, no! no! pray
let me dry," implored the little bird.
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The
luxuriant herbage is trampled down, crushed by the feet of elephants. A troop of
negroes are returning from a market in the interior of the land: the women, with
copper buttons in their black hair, and decked out in clothes dyed with indigo,
drive the heavily-laden oxen, on whose backs slumber the naked black children. A
negro leads a young lion which he has brought, by a string. They approach the
caravan; the young merchant sits pensive and motionless, thinking of his
beautiful wife, dreaming, in the land of the blacks, of his white lily beyond
the desert.
They approach the caravan; the young merchant sits pensive
and motionless, thinking of his beautiful wife, dreaming, in the land of the
blacks, of his white lily beyond the desert. He raises his head, and- " But at
this moment a cloud passed before the Moon, and then another. I heard nothing
more from him this evening. TWENTY-FIRST EVENING "I saw a little girl weeping,"
said the Moon; "she was weeping over the depravity of the world. She had
received a most beautiful doll as a present.
She had received a most
beautiful doll as a present. Oh, that was a glorious doll, so fair and delicate!
She did not seem created for the sorrows of this world. But the brothers of the
little girl, those great naughty boys, had set the doll high up in the branches
of a tree and had run away. "The little girl could not reach up to the doll, and
could not help her down, and that is why she was crying. The doll must certainly
have been crying too, for she stretched out her arms among the green branches,
and looked quite mournful.
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