Children's stories, English; Fairy tales; Short stories, English
"'It is certainly a great privilege to hear you talk,' answered little
Hans, sitting down and wiping his forehead, 'a very great privilege.
But I am afraid I shall never have such beautiful ideas as you have.'
"'Oh! they will come to you,' said the Miller, 'but you must take more
pains. At present you have only the practice of friendship; some day you
will have the theory also.'
"'Do you really think I shall?' asked little Hans.
"'I have no doubt of it,' answered the Miller, 'but now that you have
mended the roof, you had better go home and rest, for I want you to
drive my sheep to the mountain to-morrow.'
"Poor little Hans was afraid to say anything to this, and early the next
morning the Miller brought his sheep round to the cottage, and Hans
started off with them to the mountain. It took him the whole day to get
there and back; and when he returned he was so tired that he went off to
sleep in his chair, and did not wake up till it was broad daylight.
"'What a delightful time I shall have in my garden!' he said, and he
went to work at once.
"But somehow he was never able to look after his flowers at all, for his
friend the Miller was always coming round and sending him off on long
errands, or getting him to help at the mill. Little Hans was very much
distressed at times, as he was afraid his flowers would think he had
forgotten them, but he consoled himself by the reflection that the
Miller was his best friend. 'Besides,' he used to say, 'he is going to
give me his wheelbarrow, and that is an act of pure generosity.'
"So little Hans worked away for the Miller, and the Miller said all
kinds of beautiful things about friendship, which Hans took down in a
notebook, and used to read over at night, for he was a very good
scholar.
"Now it happened that one evening little Hans was sitting by his
fireside when a loud rap came at the door. It was a very wild night,
and the wind was blowing and roaring round the house so terribly that at
first he thought it was merely the storm. But a second rap came, and
then a third, louder than any of the others.
"'It is some poor traveller,' said little Hans to himself, and he ran to
the door.
"There stood the Miller with a lantern in one hand and a big stick in
the other.
"'Dear little Hans,' cried the Miller, 'I am in great trouble. My little
boy has fallen off a ladder and hurt himself, and I am going for the
Doctor. But he lives so far away, and it is such a bad night, that it
has just occurred to me that it would be much better if you went instead
of me. You know I am going to give you my wheelbarrow, and so it is only
fair that you should do something for me in return.'
"'Certainly,' cried little Hans, 'I take it quite as a compliment your
coming to me, and I will start off at once. But you must lend me your
lantern, as the night is so dark that I am afraid I might fall into the
ditch.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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