all," said the Tree. "I only came out of the wood this
winter. I'm only rather backward in my growth."

"What splendid stories you can tell!" said the little Mice.

And next night they came with four other little Mice, to hear what
the Tree had to relate; and the more it said, the more clearly did it
remember everything, and thought, "Those were quite merry days! But
they may come again. Klumpey-Dumpey fell downstairs and yet he married
the Princess. Perhaps I may marry a Princess too?" And then the
Fir Tree thought of a pretty little Birch Tree that grew out in the
forest: for the Fir Tree, that Birch was a real Princess.

"Who's Klumpey-Dumpey?" asked the little Mice.

And then the Fir Tree told the whole story. It could remember every
single word; and the little Mice were ready to leap to the very top of
the tree with pleasure. Next night a great many more Mice came, and
on Sunday two Rats even appeared; but these thought the story was not
pretty, and the little Mice were sorry for that, for now they also did
not like it so much as before.

"Do you only know one story?" asked the Rats.

"Only that one," replied the Tree. "I heard that on the happiest
evening of my life; I did not think then how happy I was."

"That's a very miserable story. Don't you know any about bacon and
tallow candles--a store-room story?"

"No," said the Tree.

"Then we'd rather not hear you," said the Rats.

And they went back to their own people. The little Mice at last stayed
away also; and then the Tree sighed and said:

"It was very nice when they sat round me, the merry little Mice,
and listened when I spoke to them. Now that's past too. But I shall
remember to be pleased when they take me out."

But when did that happen? Why, it was one morning that people came and
rummaged in the garret; the boxes were put away, and the Tree brought
out; they certainly threw him rather roughly on the floor, but a
servant dragged him away at once to the stairs, where the daylight
shone.

"Now life is beginning again!" thought the Tree.

It felt the fresh air and the first sunbeams, and now it was out in
the courtyard. Everything passed so quickly that the Tree quite
forgot to look at itself, there was so much to look at all round. The
courtyard was close to a garden, and here everything was blooming; the
roses hung fresh and fragrant over the little paling, the linden trees
were in blossom, and the swallows cried, "Quinze-wit! quinze-wit