“What are they about?” thought the Tree. “What is to happen now!” And
the lights burned down to the very branches, and as they burned down
they were put out one after the other, and then the children had
permission to plunder the Tree. So they fell upon it with such violence
that all its branches cracked; if it had not been fixed firmly in the
ground, it would certainly have tumbled down.
The children danced about with their beautiful playthings; no one looked
at the Tree except the old nurse, who peeped between the branches; but
it was only to see if there was a fig or an apple left that had been
forgotten.
“A story! A story!” cried the children, drawing a little fat man towards
the Tree. He seated himself under it and said, “Now we are in the shade,
and the Tree can listen too. But I shall tell only one story. Now which
will you have; that about Ivedy-Avedy, or about Humpy-Dumpy, who
tumbled downstairs, and yet after all came to the throne and married the
princess?”
“Ivedy-Avedy,” cried some; “Humpy-Dumpy,” cried the others. There was
such a bawling and screaming--the Fir Tree alone was silent, and he
thought to himself, “Am I not to bawl with the rest? Am I to do nothing
whatever?” for he was one of the company, and had done what he had to
do.
And the man told about Humpy-Dumpy that tumbled down, who
notwithstanding came to the throne, and at last married the princess.
And the children clapped their hands, and cried. “Oh, go on! Do go on!”
They wanted to hear about Ivedy-Avedy too, but the little man only told
them about Humpy-Dumpy. The Fir Tree stood quite still and absorbed
in thought; the birds in the wood had never related the like of this.
“Humpy-Dumpy fell downstairs, and yet he married the princess! Yes, yes!
That's the way of the world!” thought the Fir Tree, and believed it all,
because the man who told the story was so good-looking. “Well, well! who
knows, perhaps I may fall downstairs, too, and get a princess as wife!”
And he looked forward with joy to the morrow, when he hoped to be decked
out again with lights, playthings, fruits, and tinsel.
“I won't tremble to-morrow!” thought the Fir Tree. “I will enjoy to
the full all my splendor! To-morrow I shall hear again the story of
Humpy-Dumpy, and perhaps that of Ivedy-Avedy too.” And the whole night
the Tree stood still and in deep thought.
In the morning the servant and the housemaid came in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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