The Fir Tree IV

                             

                                               Imagen cortesía de 4to40 (4to40.com) Todos los derechos reservados.

                                                              Hans Christian Andersen

At last the little Mice stayed away also; and the Tree sighed: 'After all, it was very pleasant when sleek little Mice sat round me, and listened to what I told them. 

Now that too is over. But I will take good care to enjoy myself when I am brought out again.'

But when was that to be? Why, one morning there came quantity of people and set to work in the loft. The trunks were moved, the tree was pulled out and thrown-rather hard, it is true- down on the floor, but a man drew him towards the stairs, where the daylight shone.

'Now a merry life will began again,' thought the Tree. He felt the fresh air, the first sunbeam-and now he was out in the courtyard. All passed so quickly, there was so much going on around him, the Tree quite forgot to look to himself. The court adjoined a garden, and all was in flower; the roses hung so fresh and odorous over the balustrade, the lindenswere in blossom, the Swallos flew by, and said, 'Quirre-vit! My husband is come!' but it was not the Fir Tree that they meant.

'Now, then, I shall really enjoy life,' said he exultingly, and spread out his branches; but, alas, they were all withered and yellow! It was in a corner that he lay, among weeds and nettles. The golden star of tinsel was still on the top of the Tree, and glittered in the sunshine.

In the court-yard some of the merry children were playing who had danced at Christmas round the Fir Tree, and were so glad at the sight of him. One of the youngest ran and tore off the golden star.

'Only look what is still on the ugly old Christmas tree!' said he, trampling on the branches, so that they all cracked beneath his feet.

And the Tree beheld all the beauty of the flowers, and the freshness in the garden; he beheld himself, and wished he had remained in his dark corner in the loft; he thought of his first yout in the wood, of the merry Christmas-eve, and of the little Mice who had listened with so much pleasure to the story of Humpy-Dumpy.

'Tis cover-'tis past1' said the poor Tree. 'Had I but rejoiced when I had a reason to do so! But now 'tis past, 'tis past!'

And the gardener's boy chopped the Tree into small pieces; there was a whole heap lying there. The wood flamed up splendidly under the large brewing copper, and it sighed so deeply! Each sigh was like a shot.

The boys played about in the court, and the youngest wore the gold star on his breast which the Tree had had on the happiest evening of his life. However, that was over no-the Tree gone, the story at and end. All, all was over-every tale must end at last.

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