She thought of her
brothers, and she thought of a merciful God who would not forsake
her. He let the wild crab-apples grow to feed the hungry. He showed
her a tree, the branches of which were bending beneath their weight of
fruit. Here she made her midday meal, and, having put props under the
branches, she walked on into the thickest part of the forest. It was
so quiet that she heard her own footsteps; she heard every little
withered leaf which bent under her feet. Not a bird was to be seen,
not a ray of sunlight pierced the leafy branches, and the tall trunks
were so close together that when she looked before her it seemed as if
a thick fence of heavy beams hemmed her in on every side. The solitude
was such as she had never known before.

It was a very dark night, not a single glow-worm sparkled in the
marsh; sadly she lay down to sleep, and it seemed to her as if the
branches above her parted asunder, and the Saviour looked down upon
her with His loving eyes, and little angels' heads peeped out above
His head and under His arms.

When she woke in the morning she was not sure if she had dreamed this,
or whether it was really true.

She walked a little farther, when she met an old woman with a basket
full of berries, of which she gave her some. Elise asked if she had
seen eleven princes ride through the wood. "No," said the old woman,
"but yesterday I saw eleven swans, with golden crowns upon their
heads, swimming in the stream close by here."

She led Elise a little farther to a slope, at the foot of which the
stream meandered. The trees on either bank stretched out their rich,
leafy branches towards each other, and where, from their natural
growth, they could not reach each other, they had torn their roots out
of the ground, and leaned over the water so as to interlace their
branches.

Elise said good-bye to the old woman and walked along by the river
till it flowed out into the great open sea.

The beautiful open sea lay before the maiden, but not a sail was to be
seen on it--not a single boat. How was she ever to get any farther?
She looked at the numberless little pebbles on the beach; they were
all worn quite round by the water. Glass, iron, stone, whatever was
washed up, had taken their shapes from the water, which yet was much
softer than her little hand. "With all its rolling, it is untiring,
and everything hard is smoothed down. I will be just as untiring!
Thank you for your lesson, you clear rolling w