ittle mouse, creeping cautiously towards the
tree; then came another, and they both sniffed at the fir tree, and
crept in and out between the branches.

"Oh, it is very cold here," said the little mouse. "If it were not, we
would be very comfortable here, wouldn't we, old fir tree?"

"I am not old," said the fir tree. "There are many who are older than
I am."

"Where do you come from?" asked the mice, who were full of curiosity;
"and what do you know? Have you seen the most beautiful places in the
world, and can you tell us all about them? And have you been in the
storeroom, where cheeses lie on the shelf and hams hang from the
ceiling? One can run about on tallow candles there; one can go in thin
and come out fat."

"I know nothing of that," said the fir tree; "but I know the wood
where the sun shines and the birds sing." And then the tree told the
little mice all about its youth. They had never heard such an account
in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively, they
said, "What a number of things you have seen! You must have been very
happy."

"Happy!" exclaimed the fir tree; and then, as he reflected on what he
had been telling them, he said, "Ah, yes! after all, those were happy
days." But when he went on and related all about Christmas eve, and
how he had been dressed up with cakes and lights, the mice said, "How
happy you must have been, you old fir tree."

"I am not old at all," replied the tree; "I only came from the forest
this winter. I am now checked in my growth."

"What splendid stories you can tell," said the little mice. And the
next night four other mice came with them to hear what the tree had to
tell. The more he talked, the more he remembered, and then he thought
to himself, "Yes, those were happy days; but they may come again.
Humpty-Dumpty fell downstairs, and yet he married a princess. Perhaps
I may marry a princess too." And the fir tree thought of the pretty
little birch tree that grew in the forest; a real princess, a
beautiful princess, she was to him.

"Who is Humpty-Dumpty?" asked the little mice. And then the tree
related the whole story; he could remember every single word. And the
little mice were so delighted with it, that they were ready to jump to
the top of the tree. The next night a great many more mice made their
appearance, and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they said it
was not a pretty story at all, and the little mice were very sorry,
for it ma