ied a princess; perhaps I shall also
marry a princess!' And then it thought of a pretty little birch-tree
that grew out in the wood, and seemed to the fir-tree a real princess,
and a very beautiful one too.

'Who is Humpty Dumpty?' asked the little mice.

And then the tree told the whole story; it could remember every single
word, and the little mice were ready to leap on to the topmost branch
out of sheer joy! Next night many more mice came, and on Sunday even
two rats; but they did not care about the story, and that troubled the
little mice, for now they thought less of it too.

'Is that the only story you know?' asked the rats.

'The only one,' answered the tree. 'I heard that on my happiest evening,
but I did not realise then how happy I was.'

'That's a very poor story. Don't you know one about bacon or tallow
candles? a storeroom story?'

'No,' said the tree.

'Then we are much obliged to you,' said the rats, and they went back to
their friends.

At last the little mice went off also, and the tree said, sighing:
'Really it was very pleasant when the lively little mice sat round and
listened whilst I told them stories. But now that's over too. But now I
will think of the time when I shall be brought out again, to keep up my
spirits.'

But when did that happen? Well, it was one morning when they came to
tidy up the lumber-room; they threw it really rather roughly on the
floor, but a servant dragged it off at once downstairs, where there was
daylight once more.

'Now life begins again!' thought the tree. It felt the fresh air, the
first rays of the sun, and there it was out in the yard! Everything
passed so quickly; the tree quite forgot to notice itself, there was so
much to look at all around. The yard opened on a garden full of flowers;
the roses were so fresh and sweet, hanging over a little trellis,
the lime-trees were in blossom, and the swallows flew about, saying:
'Quirre-virre-vil, my husband has come home;' but it was not the
fir-tree they meant.

'Now I shall live,' thought the tree joyfully, stretching out its
branches wide; but, alas! they were all withered and yellow; and it was
lying in a corner among weeds and nettles. The golden star was still on
its highest bough, and it glittered in the bright sunlight. In the yard
some of the merry children were playing, who had danced so gaily round
the tree at Christmas. One of the little ones ran up, and tore off the
gold star.

'Look what was