d of an arm, for she had not been able to finish the
last sleeve of the coat.

"Now I may speak," she exclaimed. "I am innocent."

[Illustration: Even on the way to death she would not give up her
task.]

Then the people, who saw what had happened, bowed to her as before a
saint; but she sank unconscious in her brothers' arms, overcome with
suspense, anguish, and pain.

"Yes, she is innocent," said the eldest brother, and related all that
had taken place. While he spoke, there rose in the air a fragrance as
from millions of roses. Every piece of fagot in the pile made to burn
her had taken root, and threw out branches until the whole appeared like
a thick hedge, large and high, covered with roses; while above all
bloomed a white, shining flower that glittered like a star. This flower
the king plucked, and when he placed it in Eliza's bosom she awoke from
her swoon with peace and happiness in her heart. Then all the church
bells rang of themselves, and the birds came in great flocks. And a
marriage procession, such as no king had ever before seen, returned to
the castle.

[Illustration]

THE LAST DREAM OF THE OLD OAK

IN THE forest, high up on the steep shore and not far from the open
seacoast, stood a very old oak tree. It was just three hundred and
sixty-five years old, but that long time was to the tree as the same
number of days might be to us. We wake by day and sleep by night, and
then we have our dreams. It is different with the tree; it is obliged to
keep awake through three seasons of the year and does not get any sleep
till winter comes. Winter is its time for rest--its night after the long
day of spring, summer, and autumn.

During many a warm summer, the Ephemeras, which are flies that exist for
only a day, had fluttered about the old oak, enjoyed life, and felt
happy. And if, for a moment, one of the tiny creatures rested on the
large, fresh leaves, the tree would always say: "Poor little creature!
your whole life consists of but a single day. How very short! It must be
quite melancholy."

"Melancholy! what do you mean?" the little creature would always reply.
"Why do you say that? Everything around me is so wonderfully bright and
warm and beautiful that it makes me joyous."

"But only for one day, and then it is all over."

"Over!" repeated the fly; "what is the meaning of 'all over'? Are you
'all over' too?"

"No, I shall very likely live for thousands of your days, and my day