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Page 32
Well, what did the Tiger-Lily say?
"Hearest thou not the drum? Bum! Bum! Those are the only two tones. Always
bum! Bum! Hark to the plaintive song of the old woman, to the call of the
priests! The Hindoo woman in her long robe stands upon the funeral pile; the
flames rise around her and her dead husband, but the Hindoo woman thinks on
the living one in the surrounding circle; on him whose eyes burn hotter than
the flames--on him, the fire of whose eyes pierces her heart more than the
flames which soon will burn her body to ashes. Can the heart's flame die in
the flame of the funeral pile?"
"I don't understand that at all," said little Gerda.
"That is my story," said the Lily.
What did the Convolvulus say?
"Projecting over a narrow mountain-path there hangs an old feudal castle.
Thick evergreens grow on the dilapidated walls, and around the altar, where a
lovely maiden is standing: she bends over the railing and looks out upon the
rose. No fresher rose hangs on the branches than she; no appleblossom carried
away by the wind is more buoyant! How her silken robe is rustling!
"'Is he not yet come?'"
"Is it Kay that you mean?" asked little Gerda.
"I am speaking about my story--about my dream," answered the Convolvulus.
What did the Snowdrops say?
"Between the trees a long board is hanging--it is a swing. Two little girls
are sitting in it, and swing themselves backwards and forwards; their frocks
are as white as snow, and long green silk ribands flutter from their bonnets.
Their brother, who is older than they are, stands up in the swing; he twines
his arms round the cords to hold himself fast, for in one hand he has a little
cup, and in the other a clay-pipe. He is blowing soap-bubbles. The swing
moves, and the bubbles float in charming changing colors: the last is still
hanging to the end of the pipe, and rocks in the breeze. The swing moves. The
little black dog, as light as a soap-bubble, jumps up on his hind legs to try
to get into the swing. It moves, the dog falls down, barks, and is angry. They
tease him; the bubble bursts! A swing, a bursting bubble--such is my song!"
"What you relate may be very pretty, but you tell it in so melancholy a
manner, and do not mention Kay."
What do the Hyacinths say?
"There were once upon a time three sisters, quite transparent, and very
beautiful. The robe of the one was red, that of the second blue, and that of
the third white. They danced hand in hand beside the calm lake in the clear
moonshine. They were not elfin maidens, but mortal children. A sweet fragrance
was smelt, and the maidens vanished in the wood; the fragrance grew
stronger--three coffins, and in them three lovely maidens, glided out of the
forest and across the lake: the shining glow-worms flew around like little
floating lights. Do the dancing maidens sleep, or are they dead? The odour of
the flowers says they are corpses; the evening bell tolls for the dead!"
"You make me quite sad," said little Gerda. "I cannot help thinking of the
dead maidens. Oh! is little Kay really dead? The Roses have been in the earth,
and they say no."
"Ding, dong!" sounded the Hyacinth bells. "We do not toll for little Kay; we
do not know him. That is our way of singing, the only one we have."
And Gerda went to the Ranunculuses, that looked forth from among the shining
green leaves.
"You are a little bright sun!" said Gerda. "Tell me if you know where I can
find my playfellow."
And the Ranunculus shone brightly, and looked again at Gerda. What song could
the Ranunculus sing? It was one that said nothing about Kay either.
"In a small court the bright sun was shining in the first days of spring. The
beams glided down the white walls of a neighbor's house, and close by the
fresh yellow flowers were growing, shining like gold in the warm sun-rays. An
old grandmother was sitting in the air; her grand-daughter, the poor and
lovely servant just come for a short visit. She knows her grandmother. There
was gold, pure virgin gold in that blessed kiss. There, that is my little
story," said the Ranunculus.
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