"What are they about?" thought the Tree. "What is to happen now!" And the
lights burned down to the very branches, and as they burned down they were put
out one after the other, and then the children had permission to plunder the
Tree. So they fell upon it with such violence that all its branches cracked;
if it had not been fixed firmly in the ground, it would certainly have tumbled
down.
The children danced about with their beautiful playthings; no one looked at
the Tree except the old nurse, who peeped between the branches; but it was
only to see if there was a fig or an apple left that had been forgotten.
"A story! A story!" cried the children, drawing a little fat man towards the
Tree. He seated himself under it and said, "Now we are in the shade, and the
Tree can listen too. But I shall tell only one story. Now which will you have;
that about Ivedy- Avedy, or about Humpy-Dumpy, who tumbled downstairs, and yet
after all came to the throne and married the princess?"
"Ivedy-Avedy," cried some; "Humpy-Dumpy," cried the others. There was such a
bawling and screaming--the Fir Tree alone was silent, and he thought to himself, "Am I not to bawl with the rest? Am I to do nothing whatever?" for he
was one of the company, and had done what he had to do.
And the man told about Humpy-Dumpy that tumbled down, who notwithstanding came
to the throne, and at last married the princess. And the children clapped their hands, and cried. "Oh, go on! Do go on!" They wanted to hear about
Ivedy-Avedy too, but the little man only told them about Humpy-Dumpy. The Fir
Tree stood quite still and absorbed in thought; the birds in the wood had never related the like of this. "Humpy-Dumpy fell downstairs, and yet he
married the princess! Yes, yes! That's the way of the world!" thought the Fir
Tree, and believed it all, because the man who told the story was so good-looking. "Well, well! who knows, perhaps I may fall downstairs, too, and
get a princess as wife!" And he looked forward with joy to the morrow, when
he hoped to be decked out again with lights, playthings, fruits, and tinsel.
"I won't tremble to-morrow!" thought the Fir Tree. "I will enjoy to the full
all my splendor! To-morrow I shall hear again the story of Humpy-Dumpy, and
perhaps that of Ivedy-Avedy too." And the whole night the Tree stood still and
in deep thought.
In the morning the servant and the housemaid came in.
"Now then the splendor will begin again," thought the Fir. But they dragged
him out of the room, and up the stairs into the loft: and here, in a dark corner, where no daylight could enter, they left him. "What's the meaning of
this?" thought the Tree. "What am I to do here? What shall I hear now, I wonder?" And he leaned against the wall lost in reverie. Time enough had he
too for his reflections; for days and nights passed on, and nobody came up;
and when at last somebody did come, it was only to put some great trunks in a
corner, out of the way. There stood the Tree quite hidden; it seemed as if he
had been entirely forgotten.
"'Tis now winter out-of-doors!" thought the Tree. "The earth is hard and covered with snow; men cannot plant me now, and therefore I have been put up
here under shelter till the spring time comes! How thoughtful that is! How
kind man is, after all! If it only were not so dark here, and so terribly lonely! Not even a hare! And out in the woods it was so pleasant, when the
snow was on the ground, and the hare leaped by; yes--even when he jumped over
me; but I did not like it then! It is really terribly lonely here!"
"Squeak! Squeak!" said a little Mouse, at the same moment, peeping out of his
hole. And then another little one came. They snuffed about the Fir Tree, and
rustled among the branches.
"It is dreadfully cold," said the Mouse. "But for that, it would be delightful
here, old Fir, wouldn't it?"
"I am by no means old," said the Fir Tree. "There's many a one considerably
older than I am."
"Where do you come from," asked the Mice; "and what can you do?" They were so
extremely curious. "Tell us about the most beautiful spot on the earth. Have
you never been there? Were you never in the larder, where cheeses lie on the
shelves, and hams hang from above; where one dances about on tallow candles:
that place where one enters lean, and comes out again fat and portly?"
"I know no such place," said the Tree. "But I know the wood, where the sun
shines and where the little birds sing." And then he told all about his youth;
and the little Mice had never heard the like before; and they listened and
said, "Well, to be sure! How much you have seen! How happy you must have been!"
"I!" said the Fir Tree, thinking over what he had himself related. "Yes, in
reality those were happy times." And then he told about Christmas-eve, when he
was decked out with cakes and candles.
"Oh," said the little Mice, "how fortunate you have been, old Fir Tree!"
"I am by no means old," said he. "I came from the wood this winter; I am in my
prime, and am only rather short for my age."
"What delightful stories you know," said the Mice: and the next night they
came with four other little Mice, who were to hear what the Tree recounted:
and the more he related, the more he remembered himself; and it appeared as if
those times had really been happy times. "But they may still come--they may
still come! Humpy-Dumpy fell downstairs, and yet he got a princess!" and he
thought at the moment of a nice little Birch Tree growing out in the woods: to
the Fir, that would be a real charming princess.