he died.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: 'HIDE ME! SAVE ME!']

[Illustration: THE WEEDS]

1

It was a fine and fruitful year.

Rain and sunshine came turn and turn about, in just the way that was
best for the corn. As soon as the farmer thought that things were
getting rather dry, he could be quite sure that it would rain next day.
And, if he considered that he had had rain enough, then the clouds
parted at once, just as though it were the farmer that was in command.

The farmer, therefore, was in a good humour and did not complain as he
usually did. Cheerful and rejoicing he walked over the land with his two
boys:

[Illustration]

"It will be a splendid harvest this year," he said. "I shall get my
barns full and make lots of money. Then Jens and Ole shall have a new
pair of trousers apiece and I will take them with me to market."

"If you don't cut me soon, farmer, I shall be lying down flat," said the
rye and bowed her heavy ears right down to the ground.

Now the farmer could not hear this, but was quite able to see what the
rye was thinking of; and so he went home to fetch his sickle.

"It's a good thing to be in the service of men," said the rye. "I can be
sure now that all my grains will be well taken care of. Most of them
will go to the mill and that, certainly, is not very pleasant. But
afterwards they will turn into beautiful new bread; and one must suffer
something for honour's sake. What remains the farmer will keep and sow
next year on his land."

2

Along the hedge and beside the ditch stood the weeds. Thistle and
burdock, poppy and bell-flower and dandelion grew in thick clusters and
all had their heads full of seed. For them, too, it had been a fruitful
year, for the sun shines and the rain falls on the poor weeds just as
much as on the rich corn.

[Illustration]

"There's no one to cut us and cart us to the barn," said the dandelion
and shook her head, but very carefully, lest the seed should fall too
soon. "What is to become of our children?"

"It gives me a headache to think of it," said the poppy. "Here I stand,
with many hundreds of seeds in my head, and I have no idea where to
dispose of them."

"Let's ask the rye's advice," said the burdock.

And then they asked the rye what they ought to do.

"It doesn't do to mix in other people's affairs when one's well off,"
said the rye. "There is only one piece of advice that I will give you:
mind you don't fling your sil