小学英语英语故事（童话故事）UndertheWillowTree柳树下的梦

Under the Willow Tree柳树下的梦The countryaround the town of Kjoge isvery bare.The townitself liesby the seashore,whichis always beautiful,although itmight be more beautifulthan it is,because allaround areflatfields,and aforest a long wayoff.But onealways findssomething beautifulin thespot thatisone，s ownhome,something for which onelongs,even when one isin the most wonderfulspotin the world.And wemust admit that theouter edgeof Kjoge,where small,humble gardensline the little streamthatflows into the sea,could be very prettyin thesummertime.This was the opinionof the twosmall children,Knud and Johanne,who wereplaying there,crawling under the gooseberrybushesto reacheach other.In one of the gardens therestood anelder tree,in the other anold willow,and under the latterthe children wereespecially fond of playing.Although the tree stoodclose besidethe streamand they mighteasily havefallen into the water,they were allowed toplay there,for theeyeof Godwatches overlittle ones.Otherwise theywould bevery badlyoff indeed.Besides,thesetwo werecareful about the water;in fact,the boy was soafraid of itthatin thesummer he couldnot belured into thesea,where the other children were fondof splashingabout.As aresult,he had to bearthe teasingof theothers asbest he could.But onceJohanne,the littlegirl,dreamed she was outin aboat,and Knudwaded out to join her,with the water risinguntil itclosed overhis head.And from the momentlittle Knudheard ofthisdream he could no longer bearto be called acoward.He mightreally gointo thewater now,he said,since Johanne had dreamedit.He nevercarried thatidea intopractice,but for all thatthedream remainedhis greatpride.Their poorparents oftencame together,while Knudand Johanneplayed in the gardensor on thehighroad,where along rowof willowshad beenplanted along the ditch.These treeswith theirpolledtops certainlydid notlook verybeautiful,but they were therefor userather thanforornament.The old willow treein the garden wasmuch lovelier,which waswhy thechildren tookmostdelight insitting underit.In Kjogeitself was a greatmarket place,and atfair timethisplaza wasgay withwhole streetsof tents,filled withsilk ribbons,boots,and everythinga personmightdesire.There weregreat crowds then,and generallythe weatherwas rainy.One couldeasilysmell theodor ofpeasants，clothes,but thiscould notdestroy the fragrance thatstreamed fromabooth fullof honey cakes.And bestof all,the manwho keptthis particularbooth cameeveryyear duringfair timeto lodgein thehouse oflittle Knud，s parents.Consequently,every nowand then there was apresent of a bitof honeycake,and ofcourse Johannealways receivedhershare.But thebest thingof allwas that this gingerbreaddealer knewall sortsof charmingstoriesand could even telltales abouthis owngingerbread cakes.One evening he tolda storyabout themwhichmade sucha deepimpression on the twochildren that they never forgot it.For thatreasonperhaps weshould hearit,too,especially sinceitis not verylong.Now it was evening.He wastramping alongthe publichighway.The frosthad settleddown,andthe countryhad becomeflatter,with fieldsand meadowson allsides.And nearthe roadtheregrew a great willow tree!The wholeoutlook remindedKnud stronglyof home;it lookedso Danish,and with a deepsigh hesat downunder thetree.He wasvery tired,his headbegan tonod,andhis eyesclosed inslumber,but stillhe seemed to see thetreestretching its arms abovehim,and in his wanderingfancy thetree seemed to be a mightyold man-the Willow Father himself-carrying histired sonin his arms backto hisDanish home,to thebare,bleak shoreof Kjogeand thegardenof hischildhood.Yes,he dreamedthatthis was the willow treeof Kjogethat hadtraveled outinto the world insearchof him,and at last hadfound him,and hadcarried him back into the littlegarden besidethestream.And therestood Johanne,in allher splendor,with the golden crownon her head,justas he had seenher last,and shecalled out“Welcome!”to him.And beforehim stoodtwo remarkablefigures,looking muchmore humanthan heremembered themfromhis childhood.They hadchanged too,but they were stillthe two gingerbread cakes,the manandthe maiden,that turnedtheir rightsides toward him,and lookedvery handsome.〃We thankyou!”both saidto Knud.You haveloosened ourtongues andtaught usthat thoughtsshouldbe spokenfreely ornothing willcome of them.And nowsomething hascome of them-weare betrothed!Then theywalked hand in handthrough thestreet sofKjoge,and lookedvery respectableevenon thewrong side;no onecould havefound anyfault with them.On theywent,straight towardKjogeChurch,and Knudand Johannefollowed them-they,too,walked handin hand.The churchstoodthere asit had always stood,with thebeautiful greenivy growingon itsred walls,andthe greatdoor of the churchswung open,and theorgan pealed,and the gingerbread couplewalkedup theaisle.〃0ur masterfirst,said thecake pair,and maderoom forJohanne and Knud tokneelbefore thealtar.And shebent her head overhim,and thetears fellfrom her eyes,but they wereicy cold,for it was theice aroundher heart that wasmelting,softened by his stronglove.The tearsfell upon his burningcheeks,and then he awoke-and he was sittingunderthe old willowtreein aforeign land on thatcold winterevening;an icyhail fromthe couldswasbeating onhisface.“That was themostwonderful hourof mylife!”he cried.And it was just a dream.Oh,God,let medream again!Then heclosed his eyes oncemore anddreamed again.Toward morningthere was a greatsnowstorm,and thewind blewit indrifts overhim,and whenthevillagers cameforth to go tochurch theyfound ajourneyman sittingby theroadside.He wasdead-frozen todeath beneath the willow tree!〃0nthe shop counter,z，he said,“there oncelay twogingerbread cakes.One was in theshapeof a man witha haton,theotherof amaiden withno bonnetbut witha blotof yellowon topof herhead.Both theirfaces wereon theupper side,for that was theside that was supposedto be lookedat,and nottheother.Indeed,most peoplehave oneside fromwhich theyshould beviewed.On hisleft sidethe manwore abitter almondfor aheart;but the maiden,on theotherhand,was honeycake allthrough.They wereplaced on the counteras samples,so theyremainedthere for alongtime,until atlast theyfell inlove witheach other.But neither told theother,which theyshould havedone if they hadexpected anythingto comeof it.〃He isaman,so hemust speakfirst,J thought the maiden.But she was quitecontented,forshe knewinherheartthat her lovewas returned.His thoughtswere farmore extravagant,whichis justlike aman.He dreamedthat he was astreet urchin,and that he hadfour penniesall hisown,and that he boughtthemaidenand ateher up.“So theylay onthe counterfor daysand weeks,and grewdry,but the thoughts of the maidenremainedstill gentle and womanly.〃It，s enoughfor methat I have livedonthe same tablewith him,thoughtthemaiden,andthen shebroke intwo.〃If onlyshe hadknown ofmy loveshe would have heldtogether a little longer,‘thought he.“So that，sthe story,and herethey are,both of them,z，said thebaker.They reremarkablefor theirstrange historyand for their silent love,which nevercame to anything.And nowthey，re bothfor you!，z Withthat hegave Johannethe man,who was still inone piece,and Knudgotthe brokenmaiden;but thechildren had been sotouched by the story that theycouldn，t besobold asto eatup the lovers.Next daythey tookthem outto theKjoge churchyard,where,winterand summer,lovely ivycovers thechurch walllike arich carpet.They stoodthetwocake figuresupamong thegreen leavesin thebright sunshineand tolda groupof otherchildren thestoryof thesilent lovethat wasuseless;that isto say,thelovewas,for thestory wascharming,they allfound.But whenthey lookedagain atthe gingerbreadcouple theyfound thata mischievousbig boyhadeaten upthe brokenmaiden.The childrencried aboutthat andlater-probably so thatthepoorlover mightnot beleft alone in the world-they atehim up,too.But theyneverforgotthestory.The twochildrenwerealways togetherby theelder treeor underthe willow,and littleJohannesang themost beautifulsongs in a voiceas clearasasilver bell.Knud hadnot anote ofmusicin him,but atleast he knew the words of the songs,and thatwas something.But thepeople ofKjoge,even thewife of the hardwaremerchant,stopped andlistened whenJohanne sang.She hasavery sweetvoice,that littlegirl,，z she said.Those wereglorious days;but gloriousdays donot lastforever,and finallythe neighborsseparated.Johannes motherdied,and herfather plannedto marryagain inCopenhagen,where hehad been promiseda positionas messenger,a jobsupposed to beveryprofitable.While theneighborsparted withregrets,thechildrenwept bitterly,but theparents promisedto writeto eachotherat leastonce a year.And Knud was madeapprentice toa shoemaker,for sucha bigboywas too oldto runaround wildanylonger;and,furthermore,he wasconfirmed.Oh,how he would haveliked to see littleJohanne inCopenhagen onthat dayof celebration!Buthe didn，t go;and hehad neverbeen there,although Kjogeis onlyfive Danishmiles away.On aclearday Knud could seethe distanttowers of the cityacross thebay,and onthe dayof hisconfirmationhe couldeven seethegoldencross onthe towerof theChurch ofOur Ladyglitterin thesun.Ah,how oftenhis thoughtsturned towardJohanne!And didshe rememberhim Yes!At Christmastimealetter camefrom herfather to Knuds parents,saying that theyweredoing verywell inCopenhagen,and Johanne could lookforward toa brilliantcareer onthe strengthof herlovely voice.Shealready hada positionin theopera houseand was already earninga littlemoney,out ofwhichshe senther dearneighbors ofKjoge adollar fora merryChristmas Eve.Johanne herselfaddeda postscript,asking themto drinkto herhealth,andin thesamepostscript was also written,“Friendly greetingsto Knud!”They allwept;but thiswas allvery pleasant,for theywere tears of joythattheyshed.Knud，s thoughtshad beenwith Johanneevery day,and nowheknewthat shealso thought of him.Thenearer camethe endof hisapprenticeship,the moreclearly did he realizethat he wasinlovewith Johanneand that she must be hislittle wife.When he thought ofthis asmile brightenedhisface,and hedrew thethread fasterthan beforeand pressed his footagainst theknee strap.He didn，t evenpay anyattention when he ranthe awldeep intoone of his fingers.He wasdeterminedthat he would notplay thesilent lover,like thetwogingerbreadcakes.The story had taughthima lesson.Now hewasajourneyman,and his knapsack waspacked readyfor histrip.At last,for the firsttime in his life,hewastogoto Copenhagen,where a master wasalready expectinghim.How surprisedandhappy Johannewould beto seehim!She was just seventeennow,and henineteen.He wantedto buya goldring for her beforehe leftKjoge,but thendecided he could geta muchniceroneinCopenhagen.And so he tookleave of his parents,and ona rainy,windy dayin autumnsetforth onfoot fromthe townof hisbirth.The dampleaves weredropping fromthe trees,andhe was wet to the skinwhen hearrived athis newmaster，s home in thebig cityof Copenhagen.The following Sunday hewould paya visitto Johannes father!So,on Sundayhe putonthenew journeymansclothes,and thenew hatfrom Kjogethat becamehimvery well,for tillthenhehad onlyworn acap.He easilyfound thehouse hewas seeking,andmounted flightafter flightof stairsuntil hebecame almostdizzy.It seemedterrible to himfor peopleto livepiled upon topof eachother inthis intricatecity.Everything in the parlorlooked prosperous,and Johannesfather receivedhim inkindly friendship.Knud wasa strangerto thenew wife,but shetoo shookhands with him andgave hima cupof coffee.“Johanne willbe glad to seeyou,〃said thefather.〃Youve growninto anice-looking youngman.Yes,wait tillyou seeher.There isa girlwho rejoicesmy heart,and pleaseGod shewillrejoice itstill more.She hasher ownroom nowand paysus rentregularly for it!〃Then heknocked quitepolitely athis daughter，s door,as if he werea stranger,and theywentin.Oh,how prettyit was!hewascertain there wasn，t sucha lovelyroom inall Kjoge;the Queenherselfcould notbemorecharmingly lodged.There werecarpets,and windowcurtains thathungquite to the floor,and flowersand pictures,and avelvet chair,and evena mirroras largeasa doorand soclear therewasadanger ofwalking intoit.A glanceshowed allthis toKnud,and yethecouldlook atnothing but Johanne.She wasa full-grownmaiden now,quite differentfrom Knud，s memoriesof her,and muchmore beautiful.There wasn，tagirl inKjoge likeher.How gracefulshe was,and withwhat a strange,unsure gazeshe lookedatKnud!But thatwas onlyforamoment,and thenshe rushedtowardhim as if it kisshim.shedid not actually doso,but shevery nearlydid.Yes,she wasreally happyto seeher childhoodfriend again!There weretears inJohanne，seyes;she hadso muchto say,and somany questionsto askabout everything,from Knud，s parentstothe elder tree and thewillow,which shecalled ElderMother andWillowFatherjust as if theyhadbeen humanbeings;and indeedthey mightbecalledso,just asmuch asthegingerbreadcakes.She spokeof themtoo,and theirsilent love,and howthey hadlain ontheshopcounter andbrokenin two-and atthis she laughed heartily,while theblood rushedtoKnud，s cheeksand his heartbeat fasterand faster.No,she hadnot grownhaughty atall.And Knudnoticed quitewell thatit wasbecause ofher thather parentsinvited him to spendtheevening.With herwon handsshe poured outthetea andgave hima cup;and afterwardshe readaloudto themfrom abook,and it seemed toKnud thatwhat sheread wasall abouthimself andhislove,for itmatched with his thoughts.Then shesang asimple littlesong,but hersingingmade ita realstorythat seemed tobe theoutpouring ofher veryheart.Yes,Knud knewshe caredfor him.He could not keeptearsofjoy fromrolling downhis cheeks,nor couldhe speaka singleword-he seemedstruck dumb.But shepressedhis hand andmurmured,“You havea goodheart,Knud.Stay alwaysthe wayyou are！〃now!That wasa magnificentevening;it wasimpossible tosleep afterward,and accordinglyKnud didnotsleep.When hehad left,Johanne，sfatherhad said,“Now,don，t forgetus altogether.Dont letthewhole wintergo bybefore youcome tous again!”Knud feltthat gavehim permissionto repeatthecall thefollowingSunday,and determinedto doso.But every evening afterwork-and theworking hourslasted untilcandlelight there-Knud wentoutinto the town.He returnedtothestreet inwhich Johannelived,and lookedup ather window.It wasalmost alwayslighted,and oneeveninghecouldevenseetheshadow ofher facequite plainlyonthe curtain.That wasan eveninghewouldnever forget.His masterswife did not likehis,/gallivanting abroadeveryevening,，z as she putit,and shookherheadruefully overhim;but themaster onlysmiled.，，He，sjusta youngfellow,，z he said.〃0n Sundaywe shallsee eachother,Knud thought,〃and I shall tellher howshe isalways inmythoughts and that shemustbemy littlewife.I knowIm onlya poorjourneyman shoemaker,but Ican becomeamaster,and I*11work andsave-yes,Ill tellher that!No goodcomes fromasilentlove;Ive learnedthat muchfromthegingerbread!Sunday cameatlast,and Knudset out,but to his greatdisappointment they hadto tell himtheywere allinvited outthat evening.But ashe leftJohanne pressedhis hand and said,“Have youeverbeen tothe theaterYou mustgo theresometime.I shallbe singingon Wednesday,and ifyouhave timethat eveningIll sendyou a ticket.My fatherknows whereyou areliving.，zHow kindit wasofher!And atnoon onWednesday hereceived asealed envelope.There werenowords inside,but theticket was there,and thatevening Knudwent tothe theaterfor thefirsttime in his life.And whatdid hesee He saw Johanne,looking morecharming andbeautiful thanheever couldhave believedpossible!To besure,she wasmarried toa stranger,but thatwasjust in the play;it was only make-believe,as Knudunderstood verywell.If ithadbeentrue,he thought,she wouldnever havehad theheart tosend himaticketso thathecouldgo andseeit.And everybodyshouted andapplauded,and Knudcried out,“Hurrah!”Even theKing wasthere,smiling atJohanne,and heseemed todelight inher loveliness.How smallKnud felt then!Still heloved herdearly,and feltthatsheloved him,too;but heknew it wasup tothe manto speakthefirstword,asthegingerbread maidenin thestoryhadtaught him.Indeed,therewasa greatdeal oftruth inthat story.So,as soonas Sundaycame,he wenttoseeher again,feeling assolemn as ifhewere goingintoa church.Johanne wasat homealone;it couldnot havehappened morefortunately.Im gladyou came,“she said.〃I almostsent Fatherafter you,but Ifelt inmy heartthatyou wouldbe herethis evening.Ihavetotellyou thatI amleaving for France onFriday;I muststudythere ifI amto becomeagreatartiste!”At thosewords it seemed toKnud as ifthe whole roomwere whirlinground andround withhim.He feltas ifhis heartwould break;there wereno tearsinhiseyes,butJohannecouldnotfailto seehow strickenhewas.“You honest,faithful soul!”she said.And hertenderness loosenedhis tongue.He toldher howmuch heloved herand beggedhertobecomehis littlewife.Then he saw Johanneturn paleasshedropped hishandandsaid seriouslyandsadly,“Dear Knud,dont makeus bothunhappy.Ishallalwaysbe a lovingsister toyou,onein whomyou maytrust,but Ishall neverbe anythingmore.〃Gently sheplaced hersoft handon hishot forehead.〃God givesus thestrength formuch,〃shesaid,〃if onlywe tryto doour best.z，At thatmoment herstepmother entered the room,andJohanne said,“Knud isquite heartbrokenbecause Imgoing away!Come,beaman,〃and shelaidher handon hisshoulder;it seemedas if they hadbeen talkingonly ofher journey.Youre achild,“shelaughed,“but nowyou mustbe goodand reasonable,as youused tobe underthe willowtreewhen wewere bothchildren!”Knudfeltas ifthe wholeworld wereout ofjoint,and histhoughtswere like a loosethread flutteringin thewind.He remainedfor tea,though hehardlyknew iftheyhadasked him to;and theywere kindand gentle,andJohannepouredouthis teaandsang to him.Her voicedid nothave itsold tone,but stillit waswonderfully beautifuland nearlybrokehis heart.And thenthey parted.Knud couldnot bearto offerhishand,but shetook itandsaid,“Surely you11shake handswith yoursister atparting,old playmate!z，She smiledthrough thetears that were inher owneyes,and repeatedtheword“brother”.Yes,thatwassupposed tobeagreat consolation!Such wastheir parting.She sailedforFrance,andKnud wanderedabout themuddy streetsof Copenhagen.His comradesin theworkshop askedwhy hewasso gloomyand urgedhim tojoin themand amusehimself,forhewasstilla youngfellow.So theytook himtoadance hall.He sawmany prettygirls there,but therewas notone tocomparewith Johanne;here,where hehad hopedto forgether,she wasmore vividthan everbefore theeyesof hissoul.〃God givesus thestrength formuch,“she hadsaid,〃if onlywe tryto doourbest.〃Then adevotion came to hismind,and hefolded hishands quietly.The violinsplayed,and thegirls dancedgaily,and suddenlyitseemedtohim thatheshould neverhave broughtJohanneinto aplace likethis-for she wastherewithhim,inhisheart.Knud ranout andwandered aimlesslythrough thestreets.He passedby thehouse whereshe hadlived;it wasdark there-everywhere weredarkness andemptiness andloneliness.The worldwentin itsway,andKnudwent his.Winter setin,andthewaters frozeover;itwasasifeverything werepreparing itselffor burial.But whenspring returned,andthefirst steamerwastostart,an intenselonging seizedhim togoaway,far intotheworld,anywhere-but not too close to France.So hepacked his knapsackand wandereddeep intoGermany,from townto town,finding restand peacenowhere.It wasnotuntil hecametothe gloriousold cityof Nurembergthathecould quiethis restlessspirit,andthere hedecided tostay.Nuremberg isa strangeold city,looking asifithadbeencut outof anold-fashioned picturebook.The streetsseem towander alongjust asthey please.The housesdid notlike tostand inregularrows.Gables withlittle towers,arabesques,and pillarslean out over thewalks,andfrom thequeer peakedroofs water-spouts,shaped likedragons orlong,slim dogs,push outfarover thestreets.There in the Nurembergmarket placestood Knud,his knapsack,onhis back.He wasbeside oneofthe oldfountains,where splendidbronze figures,scriptural and historical,rose upbetween thegushingjets ofwater.A prettylittle servantgirl wasjust fillingher pails,and she gave Knudarefreshing drink;and asher handwas fullof rosesshegavehim oneof them,too,and heacceptedthat asa goodsign.From thechurch nearby camethe strainsof anorgan;they rangas familiartohimasthe tonesof theorgan athomeinKjoge church,and heenteredthegreat cathedral.The sunlightstreamed inthrough the high stained-glass windowsand downbetween thelofty,slenderpillars.His spiritfound rest.And Knudfound agood masterin Nuremberg,and helived inhis house,and therelearned tospeakGerman.The oldmoat aroundthetownof Nuremberghas beenconverted intolittle kitchengardens,butthe highwalls withtheir heavytowers arestanding yet.The ropemakertwists hiscords ona woodengalleryalongtheinside of thetownwall,where elderbushesgrow outof thecracks andclefts,spreading theirgreen branchesover thesmall,lowly housesbelow.In oneof thesehouses Knudlivedwith hismaster;and over thelittlegarret windowwhere heslept theeldertreewaved itsbranches.Here helived fora summerand winter.But whenspring returnedhecouldbear itnolonger,for theelder wasblooming andthefragranceof itsblossoms carriedhimbackto homeandthegardenat Kjoge.So Knudleft thatmaster andfound anotherfarther intown,over whosehouseno elderbushblossomed.His newworkshop wasclosetooneof theoldstone bridges,by anever-foaming,low watermill.The streamroared pastit,hemmed inby thehouses,whose decayedold balconieslooked abouttotopple intothewater.No eldergrew heretherewasnot evenalittlegreen plantinaflowerpot一-but justopposite stooda grandold willowtree thatseemedtocling fasttothehouse,as ifitfeared beingcarried awaybythestream.It stretchedits branchesoutoverthe river,justas thewillow atKjoge spreaditsarmsacross thestream bythe gardensof home.Yes,Knud hadgone fromthe ElderMother totheWillowFather.This treehad something,especiallyon moonlitevenings,that wentstraight tohisheart,andthatsomething wasnot of the moonlightbutof theoldwillowtree itself.He couldnot remainthere.Why notAsk thewillowtree;ask theblossoming elder!And sohe badefarewelltohiskind masterand toNuremberg andtraveled onfurther.To noone didhe speak ofJohanne,but hidhis sorrowinhisinnermost heart;and he thoughtof the deepmeaning oftheold storyofthegingerbread.Now heunderstood whythe man hadabitter almondforaheart-he himselfhad feltthe bitternessofit.And Johanne,who wasalways sogentleandsmiling,shewas onlylike thehoneycake.The strapof Knud，sknapsackseemed sotight acrosshis chestthathecould scarcelybreathe,but evenwhenheloosened ithewasnot relieved.Hesawonly halftheworldaround him;the otherhalfhe carriedwithin him.That，s howitwas!Not untilhewasin sightofthehigh mountainsdid theworld appearfreer tohim;now histhoughtswere turnedoutward again,andthetears cameinto hiseyes.The Alpsseemedtohim like the foldedwingsoftheearth;what iftheywereto unfoldthemselves anddisplay theirvaried picturesofblack woods,foaming waters,clouds,and greatmasses ofsnow!On the last day,hethought,theworld willlift upits mightywings andmount upwardto God,to burstlike asoap bubblebeforethe glanceoftheHighest.〃Ah,〃he sighed,“that thatlast daywere herenow!z，Silently he wandered througha countrythatseemedtohimlike anorchard coveredwith softturf.From thewooden balconiesofthehouses girls,busy withtheir lacemaking,nodded downat him.The summitsofthe mountains glowedinthered eveningsun;and whenhesawthe bluelakes gleamingthroughthe darktrees,hethoughtoftheseacoast nearKjoge,and therewasasadness inhisheart-but itwas painnolonger.There wherethe Rhinerolls onwardlike agreat wave,and thenbursts intosnow-white,gleaming,cloudlike masses,asifclouds werebeing createdthere,withtherainbow flutteringlikealooseband abovethem-itwasthere thathethoughtofthemill atKjoge,with itsrushing,foamingstream.He wouldhave beengladtohave remainedinthe quiet Rhenishtown,but here also there were toomanyelder treesand toomany willows,sohetraveled on,overthemighty,towering mountains,through shatteredwalls ofrock,andonroads thatclung tothe mountainsideslikethenests ofswallows.The watersfoamed inthe depths,the cloudsthemselves werebelow him,and hestrodeon inthe warmsummer sunover shinythistles,Alpine rosesand snow.Thus hesaid farewelltothe landsoftheNorth andjourneyed onundertheshade ofblooming chestnuttrees,and throughvineyardsand fieldsof maize.Now the mountains werea wallbetween himand allhis memories;thatwashow hewished ittobe.At lasthe reachedthat great,glorious citycalled Milan,and herehe founda Germanmaster whogavehim work.The masteran hiswife,in whoseworkshop helabored now,wereapious oldcouple.And theybecame quitefondofthequietjourneyman,who saidlittle butworked allthe harderandled adevout Christianlife.And toKnud alsoitseemedthat Godhad liftedthe heavyburdenfrom hisheart.His favoriterelaxation wasto climbfrom timeto timetothemighty marblechurch,which seemedtohimtohave beenbuilt ofthe snowof hisnative Northland,formed intoimages,pointed towers,and decoratedopen halls;from everycorner and every nichethe whitestatues smileddown uponhim.Above himwastheblue sky;below himwere thecity andthe wide-spreading greenplains ofLombardy,and toward the norththehighmountains cappedwith perpetualsnow.Then hethoughtof thechurch atKjoge,with itsred ivy-colored walls,but hedidnotlong togo thereagain.Here,beyond themountains,hewouldbe buried.He hadlived thereayear,and threeyears hadpassed sincehehadleft his home,whenonedayhis mastertook himintothecity-nottothe circuswith itsdaring riders;no,tothegreatopera,where wasan auditoriumwell worthseeing.There wereseven tiersof boxes,and fromeachbeautiful silkencurtains hung,while fromthe groundtothedizzy heightsoftheroof theresatthe mostelegant ladies,with corsagesin theirhands asiftheywere ata ball,and gentlemeninfull dress,many ofthem withdecorations ofgold andsilver.It wasas brightthere asinthe noonday-sunshine,andthemusic rolledgloriously andbeautifully;everything wasmuch moresplendidthan inthe theaterat Copenhagen,but thenJohannehadbeen inCopenhagen,and here一一Yes!It waslike magic-Johanne washerealso!The Curtainrose,and sheappeared,clad insilkand gold,withagold crownupon herhead.She sangas nonebut anangel couldsing,and camefarforward tothe frontofthestage,and smiledasonlyJohannecouldsmile,and lookedstraightdown atKnud!The poorboy seizedhis mastersarm andcalled outaloud,〃Johanne!〃The loudmusicsounded aboveeverything,but noone heardbut themaster,who noddedhis head.〃Yes,〃hesaid,“her nameis Johanne!Then hedrew forthhis programand showedKnud hername-forthefull namewas printedthere.No,itwasnotadream!The greataudience applaudedand threwwreaths andflowers toJohanne,andeverytime shewent awaythey calledher backon stage,sothatshewasalways goingand coming.In thestreet outsideafterward thepeople crowdedabout hercarriage anddrew itaway intriumph.Knudwasinthefirst rowand shoutedas joyfullyas any;and whenthe carriagehalted beforeherbrightly lightedhouse hewas standingclose besidethe door.It opened,and shestepped out;the lightfell uponher belovedface,and shesmiled,thanked themgraciously,and appeareddeeplytouched.Knud lookedstraight intohereyes,and sheinto his,but shenever knewhim.A gentlemanwitha decorationglittering onhis breastgave herhisarm-people saidtheywerebetrothed.Then Knudwent homeand packedhisknapsack.He haddecided toreturn tohis ownhome,to theelderand willowtrees-ah,beneaththewillowtree!The oldcouple beggedhimtoremain,but nowords couldchange hismind.It wasin vainthat theypointedouttohimthatwinter wascoming andthe snowhad alreadyfallen inthemountains.Hereplied thathecouldmarch,withhisknapsack onhisback,and supportedbyhiscane,in thewakeof aslow-moving carriage,forwhicha pathwouldhavetobecleared.So Knudleft forthemountainsand climbedup themand downthem.His strengthgrew less,butstill hesaw novillage orhouse;always heplodded onwardtowardtheNorth.High abovehim thestarsgleamed;his feetstumbled,andhishead grewdizzy withthe heights.Stars seemedto shinedeepinthevalley,too,asiftherewereanother skybelow him.He feltill.More andmore starsbecamevisible belowhim;they glowedbrighter andbrighter andmoved toand fro.Then herealizedit wasthe lightsofalittle townthatwereshining downthere.When hewas sureof that,heput forththelastofhisstrength andfinally reachedthe shelterofa humbleinn.He remainedthere thatnight andthewholeofthenext day,for hisbody wasindesperate needof restand refreshment.The icewas beginningto thaw,and therewas raininthe valley.But onthe secondmorning aman witha handorgan cametothe innand playeda Danishmelody-and nowKnudcouldnot remain.He resumedhis journeynorthward,tramping onfor manydays,hurrying asthough hewere tryingtoreach homebefore allwere deadthere.But tono mandidhespeakofhis longing,for noonewould havebelieved inthe sorrowofhisspirit,the deepesta humanheart canfeel.Such griefisnot fortheworld,foritisnotamusing;nor isit forfriends.And thismanhadno friends;a stranger,hewanderedthrough strangelands towardhishomeintheNorth.He hadreceived onlyoneletter fromhome,and itwas nowyears sincehis parentshad written.You arenot reallyDanishaswehere athome.We loveour country,but youlove onlyastrangecountry.，z Thushisparents hadwritten him-yes,they thoughtthey knewhim!。