Story hour with Aunt Anna

Contents

I. The Princess with One Shoe II. The Story of the Vain King

III. The Water-Nymph .

IV. The Story of Little Star

II

O NCE, many, many years ago, there lived a very handsome king. He had a great country and many subjects, but he did not care for them at all. He thought of nothing but his beauty, which seemed the only interest in his life.

The statesmen ruled after their own fashion, for the king was too much occupied with his own person. He had dozens of servants who had no other duty than to invent beautiful robes and jewels for the decoration of his body. He changed his robes very often and spent hours in having his golden hair curled, for his hair was his special pride.

Three times a day a golden carriage stopped before the entrance of his castle, and, surrounded by his servants, the king mounted the carriage in a most beautiful garment. He was driven slowly through the streets of his town, and it was expected of the inhabitants to stand in the streets and admire him.

The people had become so accustomed to their vain king that they loved him for the sake of his beauty.

Then there came a time for the king to be married, and his statesmen were obliged to look for a princess for him, as he himself had no time.

It was not so easy to find the right one. She was not to be too beautiful, for the king did not like to be put in the background, and she was not to be too plain, for the king’s eyes could not get used to ugliness.

What other qualities the future queen might have did not matter so much, for the king would not have time to think of her.

At last they found a princess who seemed to please him. She was neither beautiful nor plain, but on her face there was an expression of charming kindliness, so that everybody liked to look at her. Her quiet, modest ways suited the king, as he thought it would be a good back¬ ground for his magnificence and splendor.

So the wedding was celebrated and the king now drove with the queen through the streets of the town.

Everybody was shouting with joy and, of course, the vain king imagined that all expres¬ sions of admiration were only for himself and his beauty.

However, there were many in the crowd who were charmed by the sweet, kind expression in the queen’s face, and only a few weeks had passed before everyone in the town knew that the queen had a kind and tender heart, full of love for her subjects.

While the king was thinking only of his beauty, the queen was occupied with the welfare of the people.

The poor and distressed came in troops to the castle, and the queen had help and consolation for everyone.

There was no sufferer in body or soul who did not find the way to the back door of the castle, where the queen, from morning till night, was busy with help and consolation. So occupied was the king with his own person that he did not even know of her kind deeds.

The people no more talked about the new robes of the king and how lovely his hair was, and how many jewels adorned his crown. All their talk was about the kindness of the queen, and there was no end of this subject; there were new, beautiful stories to be told every day.

The vain king did not notice at first that all cheers and admiration were now directed to his wife, but when he found it out he became very angry.

He thought that the people must find the queen more beautiful than himself after all. He did not understand how anything but beauty could win love, and in order to convince the peo¬ ple he took away her queenly robe and made her dress in rags, and he forced her to sit by his side in his golden carriage.

But the people who were, as usual, in the streets to cheer their queen, were only sad when they saw her suffer, and instead of admiration for his beauty, he heard only pity for the queen. The king was beside himself with rage.

As soon as he reached his castle he called all his statesmen to a conference and ordered them to find a way to take the people’s love away from the queen. One said he thought the queen had lovely hair, and instantly her hair was cut off.

Next day the queen had to show herself to the people with a shaven head and in rags, while the king was dressed in velvet and silk and his golden locks glittered in the sun.

But, all the same, the people’s cheers for their good queen, who had to suffer for her kindness, were louder than ever.

The king grew more angry than ever, and had no more rest and sleep. His mind was always occupied with evil thoughts toward his poor wife, and he would certainly have done greater harm to her if she had not disappeared one morning.

The queen knew of her danger and that the king, in his hatred, would not even refrain from taking her life. And while she had borne all the humiliations with great courage, she wanted to save the king from becoming her murderer. So one morning she left the castle and was seen no more.

Next morning when the people found out that their beloved queen had fled, they came in crowds to the castle and inquired loudly for her.

But this did not worry the king, who was only too glad that she had disappeared.

He thought: I will hide myself and when the people have forgotten her I will show myself again, and then they will love and admire me as they did before.

Four weeks the king lived a retired life. He had long conferences with his tailors and valets about new robes and new ways of hairdressing, preparing to show himself in more splendor than ever.

At last he thought the queen was forgotten, and one day, after the whole city had been deco¬ rated with flowers and flags, the king had the announcement made that he would take his usual drive.

Adorned with most beautiful clothes and jewels, he entered his golden carriage, which drove slowly through the streets.

But his great hope that he would recapture the love of his people by his beauty, was vain. No cheering was heard, no admiration expressed, and soon the triumphant expression on his face was gone.

The people did not care any more for the king’s beauty; they were only longing for their kind and good queen.

Indignant and desperate the king came home and looked into the mirror to see if his beauty had vanished. But no, he was more handsome than ever, and nobody had noticed it.

Nothing in the world could have wounded his vanity more, nothing seemed harder for him to understand. Once again he drove out, but only to experience the same disappointment, and then, due to his grief, he became very ill.

All the greatest physicians were called, but not one could help the king, who had lost all in¬ terest in life.

Grief now truly destroyed his beauty, and worry disfigured his face. All day long he was lying on his couch. Nobody was able to cheer him up.

While the whole country was mourning for the lost queen, and in thousands of hearts a light of love and longing was burning for her, there was not one who missed the king. The states¬ men ruled, as they were used to, and the days went by.

A whole year passed after all the great physi¬ cians had left the castle, and the king had given up all hope of getting well.

At last one of the king’s people heard about an old woman, living in the woods, who was said to be able to cure every sickness.

The king also heard about this old woman, and expressed a desire to make another trial to get cured. Messengers were sent out, and the next day the woman came into the king’s sick-room.

Dressed in dark clothes, bent, the face covered with a gray veil, she was not a cheerful sight, and the king turned angrily towards the wall when the woman began to speak.

She spoke with a soft, sweet voice, and the king did not interrupt her, and was not opposed to her sitting down next to him.

She said:

“I know your sickness, king, and I will be able to cure it and help you to get back the love and admiration of your subjects. Not by beauty, but by kindness.”

The woman talked for hours, and the king listened intently.

She told him about the sorrows and troubles of the people and the great happiness to be able to bring relief. And slowly there came a great change in the king’s heart.

His own grief vanished when he heard about the suffering of other people, and with a deep compassion came a love in his heart, a love towards all mankind.

All of a sudden he felt well, his heart filled with only one thought, to try and bring relief and happiness to his people.

And as he uttered this thought, the old woman prepared to leave, for her work was done.

But the king called her back and said:

“You have healed me, you shall never leave me, you must help me to make my people happy.”

And when he said those words, the old woman straightened up, her veil fell off, the coat fell down, and before the surprised king stood the queen.

She told him how, in disguise, she had fled into a big forest. She had lived there all alone in a little hut, and, as she had had no other means to give help to her beloved people, she had found out the healing power of wild plants. Unrecog¬ nized, she had visited the sick people, and the help she had been able to give had spread even to the king’s castle, and so she had been called to heal the king.

The king was only too happy to have his wife back again as a helpmate in the good work he was intending to do. And now, as selfishness had left, there was enough room in his heart for a profound love for his wife, who had not only saved his life, but had also filled his heart with a happiness he never had known before.

In the castle and in the town the news of the return of the queen and the healing of the king soon spread about.

There was great joy and jubilation in the whole country next day when the king and the queen drove out together, and it was meant not only for the queen, but also for the king, who, together with his wife, tried to make his people happy.

The vain king was forgotten, but the good king and his wife were loved and admired, and they lived happily ever after.

Ill

T HERE was once a big, calm lake in the middle of the Forest. Beautiful trees sur¬ rounded it and a narrow path led to this lovely spot, but only very seldom did the foot¬ step of men disturb the peace of nature.

At the bottom of this lake stood a beautiful castle made of crystal, and there lived the Nymph-king with his daughters, the lovely water-nymphs. Those Nymphs were half hu¬ man and half fish, and they had a very pleasant time.

All day long they were playing in the water, swimming from the glittering sunshine into the cool shadow, and having all kinds of fun.

Only at sunset, when their father the king held court, they had to assemble in the castle with him.

As a special favor, the king had given his daughters permission occasionally to go on land. They then took human forms and dresses and could play to their hearts’ content until the sun set, but they were told that they never could become a water-nymph again if they stayed longer.

But the water-nymphs thought little of this permission. They thought themselves so much happier than human beings, as they had no hu¬ man hearts and therefore knew nothing about grief and sorrow. Joy and happiness was all that they could feel, and play and pleasure was all that they had in mind.

They loved each other and they loved their father, and obeyed him, as all good children do.

One day there came a handsome boy to the lake to fish. As soon as he had thrown out his line, a little nymph came swimming along; her name was June. Just out of mischief, she caught the line and held it tight. The boy thought he had a fish, and pulled very hard on the line, and all of a sudden the nymph let it slip from her hand and the boy fell backward into the grass.

The noise of a merry laugh brought the boy quickly to his feet again, and now he saw the sweet little nymph.

“You little rascal/’ he said, “why don’t you come out and play with me in a respectable way?”

“Why should I not?” said the little nymph, and, for the first time in her life, she jumped on land and stood there as a very pretty little girl.

“Catch me,” she cried, and the boy ran after her. He was very quick, but the Nymph-girl was quicker, and when he nearly had reached her, she jumped into the lake, for the sun was just setting.

“But why don’t you stay with me?” cried the boy.

“I cannot,” answered the nymph. “If I am not in the water at sunset, I can be a nymph no more, and I would not like to be a girl all the time.”

“But won’t you come back tomorrow?” asked the boy, and a far-away “yes” came out of the deep where the nymph had disappeared.

Little June came to the castle just in time for the assembly, which was held every evening in a big crystal hall.

The king was then sitting on his throne and the children could ask him any favor they wanted, and if it was not against the rule of the kingdom it was granted, for the Nymph-king liked to see all his children happy.

A wonderful time with music and singing and dancing followed and then the nymphs kissed their father “Good-night” and went to sleep in their beds of soft green moss, covered with sheets made of leaves of water-lilies.

Little June that evening could not sleep for a long time; she could not get the adventure with the boy out of her head. It was a very unusual thing that a nymph should think of going out of the water and playing with a human being. Generally they were very shy and disappeared as soon as they heard a footstep.

Quite astonished at her own behavior, June asked herself why she had done it, and why it had been such a pleasure to play with the boy. She could not give herself an answer and decided to find it out the next day.

Next day the boy came again to the shore of the lake and he had not long to wait for his play¬ mate. She came out of the water and the two children had a lovely time.

They played hide and seek and had a race, and when June was tired the boy brought her flowers and insects the girl had never seen before.

But before the sun slipped under the cover of the quiet lake, the girl jumped into the water, to the great disappointment of the boy.

June was so excited when she came to her father’s castle that some of her sisters noticed it. They came to her and wanted to find out the reason, but June kept the secret to herself.

She was glad that not one of her sisters knew anything about her adventure. It was so strange, and she knew that nobody would under¬ stand her feelings.

Of course, the boy returned again the third day, and June came, too. But this time the boy did not want to play. They walked side by side through the summer meadows and the boy said:

“Dear little girl, why can’t you stay with me forever? I know a little hut near here, it is empty, we can live there and play all day long. I will bring you all you want, flowers, birds and insects. I will tell you the most won¬ derful stories and I will never leave you.”

June liked her new playmate very much and she loved birds and flowers and insects, but when she thought of the sisters she would never see again, and of the scorn of her father, she felt very sad. She said:

“Why cannot I stay a nymph? We could play together every day as we do now, and I would not have to leave my father and my sisters.”

The boy answered:

“If you will not stay with me always, I will return no more to the lake.”

Now June’s heart became still more sad, for she loved the handsome boy, and all the promises he made were very tempting.

The boy begged and begged and promised, and at last she decided to stay with him, and so it happened that the sun went down without the girl’s returning into the water.

She went with the boy to the little hut and, in her joy over all the new playthings her compan¬ ion brought, she had no time to long for her sis¬ ters or worry about her father.

A few days passed in joy and happiness. Trees, flowers, birds and insects were an unceas¬ ing source of interest and pleasure for the nymph-girl, because she never had been so near to them before, and the boy knew such lovely stories to tell, and never tired of finding new amusements for his little playmate.

But after a short time the boy began to grow tired of her. He sometimes went away and left the little girl alone in the hut, and now she had plenty of time to think of her sisters and her father. And as the lonely hours became more frequent, and longer and longer, she became homesick.

The boy did not see her pale cheeks and red eyes, and she knew nobody in the wide, wide world to whom she could have confided her sorrow.

And one day the boy went away and did not return at all. Oh, what days of bitter repent¬ ance now came for the poor little girl.

She did no more enjoy the playthings the boy had brought her, she felt so lonely and cried so much that her poor eyes nearly became blind.

She longed for her sisters and felt sorry for the worry and pain she had given her dear, kind father.

Every day she went to the lake, she thought she would feel better if she could see one of her sisters, but the nymphs did not recognize her and fled as soon as they heard her footstep.

Finally, one day, June said to herself:

“If I can no longer live in the water, I will die in it,” and she went and jumped into the lake.

But, to her great surprise, she did not die. Two little sisters came and caught her by the arms and carried her to the king’s castle.

The father looked very angry as she stood, shaking with fear, before him:

“You have been an ungrateful and faithless child,” he said, “and have well deserved to die; but, as you have been punished severely already, I will have mercy on you. Changed into a water-lily, you shall bloom near the shore until you are picked by a human being. This creature will fall into the water and be drowned, but you shall be released. However, as a water-lily you shall keep your human heart.”

Instantly the girl was changed into a water-lily and was brought to the same place, near the shore, where she had met the boy before.

With her human heart she had to keep all her sad memories. The place reminded her unceas¬ ingly of the hours spent in love and happiness.

and the tears she cried became glittering dewdrops and rendered her still more beautiful.

But instead of pushing herself nearer the shore, when footsteps were heard, so that some¬ body could pick her, she hid herself, for she rather wanted to suffer than that anyone should be drowned for her sake.

One day all her grief and sorrow were re¬ newed, for the bad boy came to the lake again, and it was an agony for her to see him playing on the shore with one of her little sisters, who, like herself before, had left the lake to play with him.

June could not help overhearing the conversa¬ tion and, with a bleeding heart, she listened to the same words the boy once had spoken to her*

“Stay with me,” the boy said, “I will bring you all you want and will never leave you.”

Undecided, the little nymph stood there, while the water-lily suffered agony lest her sister should have to endure her own fate.

In her excitement, she pushed herself nearer the shore and let the sunbeams reflect themselves in her tears. As soon as the boy noticed the flower he said to his companion:

“Look at this wonderful lily; I will pick it for you.”

As he bent down he fell into the lake and was drowned. At this moment the lily was changed into the nymph again and, as quickly as she could, she pulled her sister into the water, for the sun was just setting.

The little sister was angry, and said:

“Why did you take my boy? I wanted to stay with him on the shore.”

“Oh, sister, thank heaven you are saved!” cried June, and it was only now that the sister recognized her. She listened to June’s story while they were hastening to the castle in order not to be too late for the assembly.

The king was veiy glad to have June with him again, and he forgave her, and all the sisters were happy. But before they went to sing and dance, June asked her father if he would grant her a favor, as sign of his forgiveness.

The king promised, and June said:

“Dear Father, you have given us permission to go on shore and become human beings. Not only I myself, but also this little sister, has found out what a great danger it is. Please withdraw your permission, so that no more harm can come from it.”

The king was only too glad to do so, and after that June enjoyed the evening pleasures as she never had done before.

The sad adventure was soon forgotten and, with all the nymphs and her father, June lived happily ever after.

IV

I T was on a bright summer evening. The angels had just begun to light the stars and the moon started his travel across the sky. Sometimes he stood still and talked to the stars, like a father to his children.

Sometimes the Moon Stood Still and Talked to the Stars.

To the big stars he said:

“Take good care of your little sisters, watch them so that they do not fail.”

The little ones he reminded:

“Be obedient to your big sisters. Don’t wig¬ gle too much; you know it is dangerous.”

Just on this evening when the story begins there was a little star who was very naughty. It would not stand still. It bent to the right and to the left and forward and backward. It was so curious, it wanted to see all that was going on in the world beneath. The big star beside it said:

“Oh, little star, why will you not stand still? You will fall down on the earth, and then you will become a very unhappy little child. You know that this is a very severe punishment.”

But the little star did not listen. It kept on wiggling, and the big star became very nervous, and said:

“Oh, please, little star, why can’t you behave like the other stars? I know you will bring trouble to yourself.”

But the little star did not pay any attention. It had just discovered something on earth it had never noticed before, and it bent over to see better.

And as it bent still farther, it slipped. The big star reached over to catch it, but was too late. Down, down the little star fell, until it reached the earth.

It fell into the garden of poor working people and became a little baby-girl.

The poor woman to whom the garden be¬ longed found it next morning and carried it into the house.

“Look what I found,” she said joyfully to her husband.

But the man said:

“You must take that baby to the police-station at once. We are too poor to bring up a strange child.”

But the woman begged:

“Oh, please let me keep it. We have no chil¬ dren of our own, and it came last night when the star fell. There is a saying that this brings luck.”

The man gave his permission, and so the girl stayed in the house and was called “Little Star.”

Little Star grew and became a very good little girl. But she was not a bit like other children. She would not run around and play; she liked to sit in a quiet corner and sing songs that nobody had taught her. They were all holy songs, and Little Star sang them with such a sweet, clear voice that everybody liked to listen.

If she had not been so shy she would have made many friends, for everyone liked her.

Once on a bright summer day, when Little Star was about seven years old, she was sitting near the window singing her sweet songs, when a rich lady in a wonderful carriage happened to pass the house. She told the driver to stop, and she listened for a long while. Then she came out of the carriage and entered the little house to find out to whom the sweet voice belonged.

When she saw Little Star she liked her very much, and she said to the parents:

“Dear people, would you not let me have this little girl? I will take her to my castle and bring her up as my own. I will ask nothing of her but to sing very often. To you I will give a large sum of money, so that you can buy a larger house and more ground and have an easier life.”

Little Star was called in, and because she saw that the father would like her to go, and because she wanted her mother to have a more prosper¬ ous life, she said good-bye to father and mother and went away with the rich lady.

They arrived at a great castle. Little Star received the best of food and care, and beautiful dresses, and because she was allowed to stay all by herself in the garden or rooms, and could sing to her heart’s content, she was quite happy.

But, when a few weeks had passed, the rich lady came one day to Little Star and said:

“I am going to have company tomorrow, and I want you to sing before my guests.”

Little Star turned pale and said:

“Dear lady, I am not able to sing before com¬ pany. I can not remember one little song and I can not hold a tune.”

But the lady said:

“That is nonsense, Little Star; you must sing, —you can if you will.”

With tears in her eyes Little Star pleaded again and again, but without success.

Next day she was given a new white dress and a new hair-ribbon, and then she was called into a big hall where many people were sitting.

She stood on a platform, and at a sign from the lady she was to begin.

Little Star tried very hard. She opened her mouth, but instead of a song only a few false notes were heard, and when she saw the disap¬ pointment in the eyes of her audience, she ran out into the garden and waited in tears for her punishment.

This was hard enough. The lady was very furious when she came out into the garden after her guests had left. As soon as she saw Little Star, who was hiding in a corner, she said:

“You ungrateful child, how could you disap¬ point me so, after all the kindness I have shown to you. Go out of my sight forever.”

Little Star tried to explain, but it was in vain. Without a further word, the lady sent the little girl home to her parents, and they were told that on account of her disobedience and ungrateful¬ ness she would not keep Little Star, and the parents should send back at least a part of the sum of money she had given them.

What a sad reception she had at home. The mother cried and the father scolded, and nobody would believe that the little girl really had not been able to sing before a crowd.

Only a few weeks Little Star had to stay at home. One day there came to her parents an old gentleman from the town near by. He had heard talk about the child’s beautiful voice, and when he listened to her sweet songs he said that he would like to take her to the town and teach her to become a great singer.