and chained me up here. I had bitten the youngest young master in the
leg, because he kicked away the bone I was gnawing. 'Bone for bone,' I
thought. They took that very much amiss, and from that time I have
been fastened to a chain and have lost my voice. Don't you hear how
hoarse I am? Away! away! I can't talk any more like other dogs. Away!
away! That was the end of the affair."
But the Snow Man was no longer listening at him. He was looking in at
the housekeeper's basement lodging, into the room where the stove
stood on its four legs, just the same size as the Snow Man himself.
"What a strange crackling within me!" he said. "Shall I ever get in
there? It is an innocent wish, and our innocent wishes are certain to
be fulfilled. I must go in there and lean against her, even if I have
to break through the window."
"You'll never get in there," said the Yard Dog; "and if you approach
the stove you'll melt away--away!"
"I am as good as gone," replied the Snow Man. "I think I am breaking
up."
The whole day the Snow Man stood looking in through the window. In the
twilight hour the room became still more inviting; from the stove came
a mild gleam, not like the sun nor like the moon; it was only as the
stove can glow when he has something to eat. When the room door opened
the flame started out of his mouth; this was a habit the stove had.
The flame fell distinctly on the white face of the Snow Man, and
gleamed red upon his bosom.
"I can endure it no longer," said he. "How beautiful it looks when it
stretches out its tongue!"
The night was long; but it did not appear long to the Snow Man, who
stood there lost in his own charming reflections, crackling with the
cold.
In the morning the window-panes of the basement lodging were covered
with ice. They bore the most beautiful ice flowers that any snow man
could desire; but they concealed the stove, which he pictured to
himself as a lovely female. It crackled and whistled in him and around
him; it was just the kind of frosty weather a snow man must thoroughly
enjoy.
But he did not enjoy it; and, indeed, how could he enjoy himself when
he was stove-sick?
"That's a terrible disease for a Snow Man," said the Yard Dog. "I have
suffered from it myself, but I got over it. Away! away!" he barked;
and he added, "the weather is going to change."
And the weather did change; it began to thaw. The warmth increased,
and the Snow Man decreased. He made no complaint--and that's an
infallible sign.
One morning he broke down. And, behold, where he had stood, something
like a broomstick remained sticking up out of the ground. It was the
pole around which the boys had built him up.
"Ah! now I can understand why he had such an intense longing," said
the Yard Dog. "Why, there's a shovel for cleaning out the stove-rake
in his body, and that's what moved within him. Now he has got over
that, too. Away, away!"
And soon they had got over the winter.
"Away! away!" barked the hoarse Yard Dog. And nobody thought any more
of the Snow Man.
THE HAPPY PRINCE
Oscar Wilde
High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy
Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes
he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his
sword-hilt. He was very much admired, indeed.
"He is as beautiful as a weathercock," remarked one of the Town
Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic taste.
"Only not quite so useful," he added, fearing lest people should think
him unpractical, which he really was not.
"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" asked a sensible mother of
her little boy who was crying for the moon.
"The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything."
"I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,"
muttered a disappointed man, as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
"He looks just like an angel," said the charity children, as they came
out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean
white pinafores.
"How do you know?" said Mathematical Master. "You have never seen
one."
"Ah! but we have in our dreams," answered the children; and the
Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not
approve of children dreaming.
One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had
gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he
was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the
spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and
had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk
to her.
"Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point
at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round
her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples.
This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.
"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the other Swallows, "she
has no money, and far too many relations"; and, indeed, the river was
quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came, they all flew away.
After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his
lady-love. "She has no conversation," he said, "and I am afraid that
she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind." And,
certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful
curtsies.
"I admit that she is domestic," he continued, "but I love traveling,
and my wife, consequently, should love traveling, also."
"Will you come away with me?" he said finally to her; but the Reed
shook her head, she was so attached to her home.
"You have been trifling with me," he cried. "I am off to the Pyramids.
Good-bye!" and he flew away.
All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city.
"Where shall I put up?" he said; "I hope the town has made
preparations."
Then he saw the statue on the tall column. "I will put up there," he
cried; "it is a fine position with plenty of fresh air." So he
alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.
"I have a golden bedroom," he said softly to himself, as he looked
round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his
head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. "What a curious
thing!" he cried, "there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars
are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the
north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain,
but that was merely her selfishness."
Then another drop fell.
"What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he said.
"I must look for a good chimney-pot," and he determined to fly away.
But before he had opened his wings a third drop fell, and he looked
up, and saw--Ah! what did he see?
The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were
running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the
moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.
"Who are you?" he said.
"I am the Happy Prince."
"Why are you weeping then?" asked the Swallow; "you have quite
drenched me."
"When I was alive and had a human heart," answered the statue, "I did
not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci,
where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my
companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the
Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared
to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My
courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy, indeed, I was, if
pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am
dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness
and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead,
yet I cannot choose but weep."
"What, is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow to himself. He was too
polite to make any personal remarks out loud.
"Far away," continued the statue in a low, musical voice, "far away in
a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and
through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and
worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for
she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin
gown for the loveliest of the Queen's maids-of-honour to wear at the
next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is
lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has
nothing to give him but water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow,
little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt?
My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move."
"I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow. "My friends are flying
up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon
they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there
himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen and
embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade,
and his hands are like withered leaves."
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty
and the mother so sad."
"I don't think I like boys," answered the Swallow. "Last summer, when
I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller's
sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of
course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and, besides, I come of
a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of
disrespect."
But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry.
"It is very cold here," he said; "but I will stay with you for one
night, and be your messenger."
"Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince.
So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince's sword, and
flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.
He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were
sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. A
beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. "How wonderful
the stars are," he said to her, "and how wonderful is the power of
love!" "I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball," she
answered. "I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but
the seamstresses are so lazy."
He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of
the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining
with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. At last he
came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly
on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he
hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman's
thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy's forehead
with his wings. "How cool I feel," said the boy, "I must be getting
better," and he sank into a delicious slumber.
Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he
had done. "It is curious," he remarked, "but I feel quite warm now,
although it is so cold."
"That is because you have done a good action," said the Prince. And
the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking
always made him sleepy.
When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. "What a
remarkable phenomenon," said the professor of Ornithology as he was
passing over the bridge. "A swallow in winter!" And he wrote a long
letter about it to the local newspaper. Everyone quoted it; it was
full of so many words that they could not understand.
"To-night I go to Egypt," said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits
at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long
time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went, Sparrows
chirruped, and said to each other, "What a distinguished stranger!"
so he enjoyed himself very much.
When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. "Have you any
commissions for Egypt?" he cried. "I am just starting."
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
stay with me one night longer?"
"I am waited for in Egypt," answered the Swallow. "To-morrow my
friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches
there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God
Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star
shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the
yellow lions came down to the water's edge to drink. They have eyes
like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the
cataract."
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "far away across
the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a desk
covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of
withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as
pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish
a play for the Director of the Theater, but he is too cold to write
any more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him
faint."
"I will wait with you one night longer," said the Swallow, who really
had a good heart. "Shall I take him another ruby?"
"Alas! I have no ruby now," said the Prince; "my eyes are all that I
have left. They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of
India a thousand years ago.
"Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He will sell it to the
jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play."
"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do that."
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I command
you."
So the Swallow plucked out the Prince's eye, and flew away to the
student's garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in
the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young
man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter
of the bird's wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful
sapphire lying on the withered violets.
"I am beginning to be appreciated," he cried; "this is from some great
admirer. Now I can finish my play," and he looked quite happy.
The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the mast
of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of
the hold with ropes. "Heave a-hoy!" they shouted, as each chest came
up: "I am going to Egypt!" cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and
when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.
"I am come to bid you good-bye," he cried.
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
stay with me one night longer?"
"It is winter," answered the Swallow, "and the chill snow will soon be
here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the
crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them. My companions
are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white
doves are watching them, and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I
must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will
bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given
away. The ruby shall be redder than a rose, and the sapphire shall be
as blue as the great sea."
"In the square below," said the Happy Prince, "there stands a little
match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are
all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some
money, and she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her
little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and
her father will not beat her."
"I will stay with you one night longer," said the Swallow, "but I
cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then."
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I command
you."
So he plucked out the Prince's other eye and darted down with it. He
swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of
her hand. "What a lovely bit of glass," cried the little girl; and
she ran home, laughing.
Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. "You are blind now," he
said, "so I will stay with you always."
"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you must go away to
Egypt."
"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, and he slept at the
Prince's feet.
All the next day he sat on the Prince's shoulder, and told him stories
of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him of the red ibises,
who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile and catch gold-fish in
their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and
lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk
slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their
hands; of the King of the Mountains of the moon, who is as black as
ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great, green snake that
sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honey
cakes; and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large, flat
leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.
"Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you tell me of marvelous
things, but more marvelous than anything is the suffering of men and
women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city,
little Swallow, and tell me what you see there."
So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry
in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the
gates. He flew into the dark lanes, and saw the white faces of
starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under
the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another's
arms to try and keep themselves warm.
"How hungry we are!" they said.
"You must not lie here," shouted the watchman, and they wandered out
into the rain.
Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.
"I am covered with fine gold!" said the Prince, "you must take it off,
leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that
gold can make them happy."
Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the
Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the gold
he brought to the poor, and the children's faces grew rosier, and they
laughed and played games in the street. "We have bread now!" they
cried.
Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets
looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and
glistening; long icicles, like crystal daggers, hung down from the
eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys
wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.
The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave
the Prince; he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the
baker's door when the baker was not looking, and tried to keep himself
warm by flapping his wings.
But at last he knew he was going to die. He had just strength to fly
up to the Prince's shoulder once more.
"Good-bye, dear Prince!" he murmured. "Will you let me kiss your
hand?"
"I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow," said
the Prince. "You have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on
the lips; for I love you."
"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow. "I am going to
the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?"
And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his
feet. At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue as if
something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped
right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.
Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in
company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he looked
up at the statue. "Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!" he
said.
"How shabby, indeed!" cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed
with the Mayor, and they went up to look at it.
"The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is
golden no longer," said the Mayor; "in fact, he is little better than
a beggar!"
"Little better than a beggar," said the Town Councillors. "And here is
actually a dead bird at his feet!" continued the Mayor. "We must
really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die
here." And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.
So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. "As he is no
longer beautiful, he is no longer useful," said the Art Professor at
the University.
Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting
of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal. "We
must have another statue, of course," he said, "and it shall be a
statue of myself."
"Of myself," said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarreled.
"What a strange thing!" said the overseer of the workmen at the
foundry. "This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must
throw it away." So they threw it on a dust-heap where the dead
swallow was also lying.
"Bring me the two most precious things in the city," said God to one
of His angels; and the angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead
bird.
"You have rightly chosen," said God, "for in my garden of Paradise
this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the
Happy Prince shall praise me."
THE LEGEND OF KING WENCESLAUS
(A Legend of Mercy)
"Good King Wenceslaus looked out
On the Feast of Saint Stephen,
When the snow lay round about,
Deep and crisp and even."
King Wenceslaus sat in his palace. He had been watching from the
narrow window of the turret chamber where he was, the sunset as its
glory hung for a moment in the western clouds, and then died away over
the blue hills. Calm and cold was the brightness. A freezing haze came
over the face of the land. The moon brightened towards the southwest
and the leafless trees in the castle gardens and the quaint turret and
spires of the castle itself threw clear dark shadows on the unspotted
snow.
Still the king looked out upon the scene before him. The ground
sloped down from the castle towards the forest. Here and there on the
side of the hill a few bushes grey with moss broke the unvaried sheet
of white. And as the king turned his eye in that direction a poor man
came up to these bushes and pulled something from them.
"Come hither, page," called the king. One of the servants of the
palace entered in answer to the king's call. "Come, my good Otto; come
stand by me. Do you see yonder poor man on the hillside? Step down to
him and learn who he is and where he dwells and what he is doing.
Bring me word at once."
Otto went forth on his errand while the good king watched him go down
the hill. Meanwhile, the frost grew more and more intense and an east
wind blew from the black mountains. The snow became more crisp and the
air more clear. In a few moments the messenger was back.
"Well, who is he?"
"Sire," said Otto, "it is Rudolph, the swineherd,--he that lives down
by the Brunweis. Fire he has none, nor food, and he was gathering a
few sticks where he might find them, lest, as he says, all his family
perish with the cold. It is a most bitter night, Sire."
"This should have been better looked to," said the king. "A grievous
fault it is that it has not been done. But it shall be amended now. Go
to the ewery, Otto, and fetch some provisions of the best.
"Bring me flesh and bring me wine,
Bring me pine logs hither;
Thou and I will see him dine,
When we bear them hither."
"Is your Majesty going forth?" asked Otto in surprise.
"Yes, to the Brunweis, and you shall go with me. When you have
everything ready meet me at the wood-stacks by the little chapel.
Come, be speedy."
"I pray you, Sire, do not venture out yourself. Let some of the
men-at-arms go forth. It is a freezing wind and the place is a good
league hence."
"Nevertheless, I go," said the king. "Go with me, if you will, Otto;
if not, stay. I can carry the food myself."
"God forbid, Sire, that I should let you go alone. But I pray you be
persuaded."
"Not in this," said King Wenceslaus. "Meet me then where I said, and
not a word to any one besides."
The noblemen of the court were in the palace hall, where a mighty fire
went roaring up the chimney and the shadows played and danced on the
steep sides of the dark roof. Gayly they laughed and lightly they
talked. And as they threw fresh logs into the great chimney-place one
said to another that so bitter a wind had never before been known in
the land. But in the midst of that freezing night the king went forth.
"Page and Monarch forth they went,
Forth they went together;
Through the rude wind's wild lament,
And the bitter weather."