THE CONCEITED APPLE-BRANCH

　　IN the midst of a garden grew a rose-tree, in full

　　blossom, and in the prettiest of all the roses lived an elf.

　　He was such a little wee thing, that no human eye could see

　　him. Behind each leaf of the rose he had a sleeping chamber1.

　　He was as well formed and as beautiful as a little child could

　　be, and had wings that reached from his shoulders to his feet.

　　Oh, what sweet fragrance2 there was in his chambers3! and how

　　clean and beautiful were the walls! for they were the blushing

　　leaves of the rose.

　　During the whole day he enjoyed himself in the warm

　　sunshine, flew from flower to flower, and danced on the wings

　　of the flying butterflies. Then he took it into his head to

　　measure how many steps he would have to go through the roads

　　and cross-roads that are on the leaf of a linden-tree. What we

　　call the veins4 on a leaf, he took for roads; ay, and very long

　　roads they were for him; for before he had half finished his

　　task, the sun went down: he had commenced his work too late.

　　It became very cold, the dew fell, and the wind blew; so he

　　thought the best thing he could do would be to return home. He

　　hurried himself as much as he could; but he found the roses

　　all closed up, and he could not get in; not a single rose

　　stood open. The poor little elf was very much frightened. He

　　had never before been out at night, but had always slumbered

　　secretly behind the warm rose-leaves. Oh, this would certainly

　　be his death. At the other end of the garden, he knew there

　　was an arbor5, overgrown with beautiful honey-suckles. The

　　blossoms looked like large painted horns; and he thought to

　　himself, he would go and sleep in one of these till the

　　morning. He flew thither6; but "hush7!" two people were in the

　　arbor,- a handsome young man and a beautiful lady. They sat

　　side by side, and wished that they might never be obliged to

　　part. They loved each other much more than the best child can

　　love its father and mother.

　　"But we must part," said the young man; "your brother does

　　not like our engagement, and therefore he sends me so far away

　　on business, over mountains and seas. Farewell, my sweet

　　bride; for so you are to me."

　　And then they kissed each other, and the girl wept, and

　　gave him a rose; but before she did so, she pressed a kiss

　　upon it so fervently8 that the flower opened. Then the little

　　elf flew in, and leaned his head on the delicate, fragrant9

　　walls. Here he could plainly hear them say, "Farewell,

　　farewell;" and he felt that the rose had been placed on the

　　young man's breast. Oh, how his heart did beat! The little elf

　　could not go to sleep, it thumped10 so loudly. The young man

　　took it out as he walked through the dark wood alone, and

　　kissed the flower so often and so violently, that the little

　　elf was almost crushed. He could feel through the leaf how hot

　　the lips of the young man were, and the rose had opened, as if

　　from the heat of the noonday sun.

　　There came another man, who looked gloomy and wicked. He

　　was the wicked brother of the beautiful maiden11. He drew out a

　　sharp knife, and while the other was kissing the rose, the

　　wicked man stabbed him to death; then he cut off his head, and

　　buried it with the body in the soft earth under the

　　linden-tree.

　　"Now he is gone, and will soon be forgotten," thought the

　　wicked brother; "he will never come back again. He was going

　　on a long journey over mountains and seas; it is easy for a

　　man to lose his life in such a journey. My sister will suppose

　　he is dead; for he cannot come back, and she will not dare to

　　question me about him."

　　Then he scattered12 the dry leaves over the light earth with

　　his foot, and went home through the darkness; but he went not

　　alone, as he thought,- the little elf accompanied him. He sat

　　in a dry rolled-up linden-leaf, which had fallen from the tree

　　on to the wicked man's head, as he was digging the grave. The

　　hat was on the head now, which made it very dark, and the

　　little elf shuddered13 with fright and indignation at the wicked

　　deed.

　　It was the dawn of morning before the wicked man reached

　　home; he took off his hat, and went into his sister's room.

　　There lay the beautiful, blooming girl, dreaming of him whom

　　she loved so, and who was now, she supposed, travelling far

　　away over mountain and sea. Her wicked brother stopped over

　　her, and laughed hideously14, as fiends only can laugh. The dry

　　leaf fell out of his hair upon the counterpane; but he did not

　　notice it, and went to get a little sleep during the early

　　morning hours. But the elf slipped out of the withered15 leaf,

　　placed himself by the ear of the sleeping girl, and told her,

　　as in a dream, of the horrid16 murder; described the place where

　　her brother had slain17 her lover, and buried his body; and told

　　her of the linden-tree, in full blossom, that stood close by.

　　"That you may not think this is only a dream that I have

　　told you," he said, "you will find on your bed a withered

　　leaf."

　　Then she awoke, and found it there. Oh, what bitter tears

　　she shed! and she could not open her heart to any one for

　　relief.

　　The window stood open the whole day, and the little elf

　　could easily have reached the roses, or any of the flowers;

　　but he could not find it in his heart to leave one so

　　afflicted. In the window stood a bush bearing monthly roses.

　　He seated himself in one of the flowers, and gazed on the poor

　　girl. Her brother often came into the room, and would be quite

　　cheerful, in spite of his base conduct; so she dare not say a

　　word to him of her heart's grief.

　　As soon as night came on, she slipped out of the house,

　　and went into the wood, to the spot where the linden-tree

　　stood; and after removing the leaves from the earth, she

　　turned it up, and there found him who had been murdered. Oh,

　　how she wept and prayed that she also might die! Gladly would

　　she have taken the body home with her; but that was

　　impossible; so she took up the poor head with the closed eyes,

　　kissed the cold lips, and shook the mould out of the beautiful

　　hair.

　　"I will keep this," said she; and as soon as she had

　　covered the body again with the earth and leaves, she took the

　　head and a little sprig of jasmine that bloomed in the wood,

　　near the spot where he was buried, and carried them home with

　　her. As soon as she was in her room, she took the largest

　　flower-pot she could find, and in this she placed the head of

　　the dead man, covered it up with earth, and planted the twig18

　　of jasmine in it.

　　"Farewell, farewell," whispered the little elf. He could

　　not any longer endure to witness all this agony of grief, he

　　therefore flew away to his own rose in the garden. But the

　　rose was faded; only a few dry leaves still clung to the green

　　hedge behind it.

　　"Alas19! how soon all that is good and beautiful passes

　　away," sighed the elf.

　　After a while he found another rose, which became his

　　home, for among its delicate fragrant leaves he could dwell in

　　safety. Every morning he flew to the window of the poor girl,

　　and always found her weeping by the flower pot. The bitter

　　tears fell upon the jasmine twig, and each day, as she became

　　paler and paler, the sprig appeared to grow greener and

　　fresher. One shoot after another sprouted20 forth21, and little

　　white buds blossomed, which the poor girl fondly kissed. But

　　her wicked brother scolded her, and asked her if she was going

　　mad. He could not imagine why she was weeping over that

　　flower-pot, and it annoyed him. He did not know whose closed

　　eyes were there, nor what red lips were fading beneath the

　　earth. And one day she sat and leaned her head against the

　　flower-pot, and the little elf of the rose found her asleep.

　　Then he seated himself by her ear, talked to her of that

　　evening in the arbor, of the sweet perfume of the rose, and

　　the loves of the elves. Sweetly she dreamed, and while she

　　dreamt, her life passed away calmly and gently, and her spirit

　　was with him whom she loved, in heaven. And the jasmine opened

　　its large white bells, and spread forth its sweet fragrance;

　　it had no other way of showing its grief for the dead. But the

　　wicked brother considered the beautiful blooming plant as his

　　own property, left to him by his sister, and he placed it in

　　his sleeping room, close by his bed, for it was very lovely in

　　appearance, and the fragrance sweet and delightful22. The little

　　elf of the rose followed it, and flew from flower to flower,

　　telling each little spirit that dwelt in them the story of the

　　murdered young man, whose head now formed part of the earth

　　beneath them, and of the wicked brother and the poor sister.

　　"We know it," said each little spirit in the flowers, "we know

　　it, for have we not sprung from the eyes and lips of the

　　murdered one. We know it, we know it," and the flowers nodded

　　with their heads in a peculiar23 manner. The elf of the rose

　　could not understand how they could rest so quietly in the

　　matter, so he flew to the bees, who were gathering24 honey, and

　　told them of the wicked brother. And the bees told it to their

　　queen, who commanded that the next morning they should go and

　　kill the murderer. But during the night, the first after the

　　sister's death, while the brother was sleeping in his bed,

　　close to where he had placed the fragrant jasmine, every

　　flower cup opened, and invisibly the little spirits stole out,

　　armed with poisonous spears. They placed themselves by the ear

　　of the sleeper25, told him dreadful dreams and then flew across

　　his lips, and pricked26 his tongue with their poisoned spears.

　　"Now have we revenged the dead," said they, and flew back into

　　the white bells of the jasmine flowers. When the morning came,

　　and as soon as the window was opened, the rose elf, with the

　　queen bee, and the whole swarm27 of bees, rushed in to kill him.

　　But he was already dead. People were standing28 round the bed,

　　and saying that the scent29 of the jasmine had killed him. Then

　　the elf of the rose understood the revenge of the flowers, and

　　explained it to the queen bee, and she, with the whole swarm,

　　buzzed about the flower-pot. The bees could not be driven

　　away. Then a man took it up to remove it, and one of the bees

　　stung him in the hand, so that he let the flower-pot fall, and

　　it was broken to pieces. Then every one saw the whitened

　　skull, and they knew the dead man in the bed was a murderer.

　　And the queen bee hummed in the air, and sang of the revenge

　　of the flowers, and of the elf of the rose and said that

　　behind the smallest leaf dwells One, who can discover evil

　　deeds, and punish them also.

　　THE END