THE ELF OF THE ROSE故事

　　 IN the midst of a garden grew a rose-tree, in full

　　 blossom, and in the prettiest of all the roses lived an elf.

　　 He was such a little wee thing, that no human eye could see

　　 him. Behind each leaf of the rose he had a sleeping chamber.

　　 He was as well formed and as beautiful as a little child could

　　 be, and had wings that reached from his shoulders to his feet.

　　 Oh, what sweet fragrance there was in his chambers! and how

　　 clean and beautiful were the walls! for they were the blushing

　　 leaves of the rose.

　　 During the whole day he enjoyed himself in the warm

　　 sunshine, flew from flower to flower, and danced on the wings

　　 of the flying butterflies. Then he took it into his head to

　　 measure how many steps he would have to go through the roads

　　 and cross-roads that are on the leaf of a linden-tree. What we

　　 call the veins on a leaf, he took for roads; ay, and very long

　　 roads they were for him; for before he had half finished his

　　 task, the sun went down: he had commenced his work too late.

　　 It became very cold, the dew fell, and the wind blew; so he

　　 thought the best thing he could do would be to return home. He

　　 hurried himself as much as he could; but he found the roses

　　 all closed up, and he could not get in; not a single rose

　　 stood open. The poor little elf was very much frightened. He

　　 had never before been out at night, but had always slumbered

　　 secretly behind the warm rose-leaves. Oh, this would certainly

　　 be his death. At the other end of the garden, he knew there

　　 was an arbor, overgrown with beautiful honey-suckles. The

　　 blossoms looked like large painted horns; and he thought to

　　 himself, he would go and sleep in one of these till the

　　 morning. He flew thither; but "hush!" two people were in the

　　 arbor,- a handsome young man and a beautiful lady. They sat

　　 side by side, and wished that they might never be obliged to

　　 part. They loved each other much more than the best child can

　　 love its father and mother.

　　 "But we must part," said the young man; "your brother does

　　 not like our engagement, and therefore he sends me so far away

　　 on business, over mountains and seas. Farewell, my sweet

　　 bride; for so you are to me."

　　 And then they kissed each other, and the girl wept, and

　　 gave him a rose; but before she did so, she pressed a kiss

　　 upon it so fervently that the flower opened. Then the little

　　 elf flew in, and leaned his head on the delicate, fragrant

　　 walls. Here he could plainly hear them say, "Farewell,

　　 farewell;" and he felt that the rose had been placed on the

　　 young man's breast. Oh, how his heart did beat! The little elf

　　 could not go to sleep, it thumped so loudly. The young man

　　 took it out as he walked through the dark wood alone, and

　　 kissed the flower so often and so violently, that the little

　　 elf was almost crushed. He could feel through the leaf how hot

　　 the lips of the young man were, and the rose had opened, as if

　　 from the heat of the noonday sun.

　　 There came another man, who looked gloomy and wicked. He

　　 was the wicked brother of the beautiful maiden. He drew out a

　　 sharp knife, and while the other was kissing the rose, the

　　 wicked man stabbed him to death; then he cut off his head, and

　　 buried it with the body in the soft earth under the

　　 linden-tree.

　　 "Now he is gone, and will soon be forgotten," thought the

　　 wicked brother; "he will never come back again. He was going

　　 on a long journey over mountains and seas; it is easy for a

　　 man to lose his life in such a journey. My sister will suppose

　　 he is dead; for he cannot come back, and she will not dare to

　　 question me about him."

　　 Then he scattered the dry leaves over the light earth with

　　 his foot, and went ho

　　me through the darkness; but he went not

　　 alone, as he thought,- the little elf accompanied him. He sat

　　 in a dry rolled-up linden-leaf, which had fallen from the tree

　　 on to the wicked man's head, as he was digging the grave. The

　　 hat was on the head now, which made it very dark, and the

　　 little elf shuddered with fright and indignation at the wicked

　　 deed.

　　 It was the dawn of morning before the wicked man reached

　　 home; he took off his hat, and went into his sister's room.

　　 There lay the beautiful, blooming girl, dreaming of him whom

　　 she loved so, and who was now, she supposed, travelling far

　　 away over mountain and sea. Her wicked brother stopped over

　　 her, and laughed hideously, as fiends only can laugh. The dry

　　 leaf fell out of his hair upon the counterpane; but he did not

　　 notice it, and went to get a little sleep during the early

　　 morning hours. But the elf slipped out of the withered leaf,

　　 placed himself by the ear of the sleeping girl, and told her,

　　 as in a dream, of the horrid murder; described the place where

　　 her brother had slain her lover, and buried his body; and told

　　 her of the linden-tree, in full blossom, that stood close by.

　　 "That you may not think this is only a dream that I have

　　 told you," he said, "you will find on your bed a withered

　　 leaf."

　　 Then she awoke, and found it there. Oh, what bitter tears

　　 she shed! and she could not open her heart to any one for

　　 relief.

　　 The window stood open the whole day, and the little elf

　　 could easily have reached the roses, or any of the flowers;

　　 but he could not find it in his heart to leave one so

　　 afflicted. In the window stood a bush bearingmonthly roses.

　　 He seated himself in one of the flowers, and gazed on the poor

　　 girl. Her brother often came into the room, and would be quite

　　 cheerful, in spite of his base conduct; so she dare not say a

　　 word to him of her heart's grief.

　　 As soon as night came on, she slipped out of the house,

　　 and went into the wood, to the spot where the linden-tree

　　 stood; and after removing the leaves from the earth, she

　　 turned it up, and there found him who had been murdered. Oh,

　　 how she wept and prayed that she also might die! Gladly would

　　 she have taken the body home with her; but that was

　　 impossible; so she took up the poor head with the closed eyes,

　　 kissed the cold lips, and shook the mould out of the beautiful

　　 hair.

　　 "I will keep this," said she; and as soon as she had

　　 covered the body again with the earth and leaves, she took the

　　 head and a little sprig of jasmine that bloomed in the wood,

　　 near the spot where he was buried, and carried them home with

　　 her. As soon as she was in her room, she took the largest

　　 flower-pot she could find, and in this she placed the head of

　　 the dead man, covered it up with earth, and planted the twig

　　 of jasmine in it.

　　 "Farewell, farewell," whispered the little elf. He could

　　 not any longer endure to witness all this agony of grief, he

　　 therefore flew away to his own rose in the garden. But the

　　 rose was faded; only a few dry leaves still clung to the green

　　 hedge behind it.

　　 "Alas! how soon all that is good and beautiful passes

　　 away," sighed the elf.

　　 After a while he found another rose, which became his

　　 home, for among its delicate fragrant leaves he could dwell in

　　 safety. Every morning he flew to the window of the poor girl,

　　 and always found her weeping by the flower pot. The bitter

　　 tears fell upon the jasmine twig, and each day, as she became

　　 paler and paler, the sprig appeared to grow greener and

　　 fresher. One shoot after another sprouted forth, and little

　　 white buds blossomed, which the poor girl fondly kissed. But

　　 her wicked brother scolded her, and asked her if she was going

　　 mad. He could not imagine why she was weeping over that

　　 flower-pot, and it annoyed him. He did not know whose closed

　　 eyes were there, nor what red lips were fading beneath the

　　 earth. And one day she sat and leaned her head against the

　　 flower-pot, and the little elf of the rose found her asleep.

　　 Then he seated himself by her ear, talked to her of that

　　 evening in the arbor, of the sweet perfume of the rose, and

　　 the loves of the elves. Sweetly she dreamed, and while she

　　 dreamt, her life passed away calmly and gently, and her spirit

　　 was with him whom she loved, in heaven. And the jasmine opened

　　 its large white bells, and spread forth its sweet fragrance;

　　 it had no other way of showing its grief for the dead. But the

　　 wicked brother considered the beautiful blooming plant as his

　　 own property, left to him by his sister, and he placed it in

　　 his sleeping room, close by his bed, for it was very lovely in

　　 appearance, and the fragrance sweet and delightful. The little

　　 elf of the rose followed it, and flew from flower to flower,

　　 telling each little spirit that dwelt in them the story of the

　　 murdered young man, whose head now formed part of the earth

　　 beneath them, and of the wicked brother and the poor sister.

　　 "We know it," said each little spirit in the flowers, "we know

　　 it, for have we not sprung from the eyes and lips of the

　　 murdered one. We know it, we know it," and the flowers nodded

　　 with their heads in a peculiar manner. The elf of the rose

　　 could not understand how they could rest so quietly in the

　　 matter, so he flew to the bees, who were gathering honey, and

　　 told them of the wicked brother. And the bees told it to their

　　 queen, who commanded that the next morning they should go and

　　 kill the murderer. But during the night, the first after the

　　 sister's death, while the brother was sleeping in his bed,

　　 close to where he had placed the fragrant jasmine, every

　　 flower cup opened, and invisibly the little spirits stole out,

　　 armed with poisonous spears. They placed themselves by the ear

　　 of the sleeper, told him dreadful dreams and then flew across

　　 his lips, and pricked his tongue with their poisoned spears.

　　 "Now have we revenged the dead," said they, and flew back into

　　 the white bells of the jasmine flowers. When the morning came,

　　 and as soon as the window was opened, the rose elf, with the

　　 queen bee, and the whole swarm of bees, rushed in to kill him.

　　 But he was already dead. People were standing round the bed,

　　 and saying that the scent of the jasmine had killed him. Then

　　 the elf of the rose understood the revenge of the flowers, and

　　 explained it to the queen bee, and she, with the whole swarm,

　　 buzzed about the flower-pot. The bees could not be driven

　　 away. Then a man took it up to remove it, and one of the bees

　　 stung him in the hand, so that he let the flower-pot fall, and

　　 it was broken to pieces. Then every one saw the whitened

　　 skull, and they knew the dead man in the bed was a murderer.

　　 And the queen bee hummed in the air, and sang of the revenge

　　 of the flowers, and of the elf of the rose and said that

　　 behind the smallest leaf dwells One, who can discover evil

　　 deeds, and punish them also.

　　 THE END