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安徒生童話故事第92篇：踩著面包走的女孩中英文版本
引導語：《踩著面包走的女孩》是安徒生的童話故事，講一個叫英格爾的小姑娘，她很窮，但是卻生性驕傲，自以為很了不起。
你早就聽見說過，有一個女子，為了怕弄臟鞋，就踩在面包上走路;后來她可吃了苦頭。這件事被寫下來了，也被印出來了。
她是一個窮苦的孩子，但是非常驕傲，自以為了不起，正如俗話所說的，她的本性不好。當她是一個小孩子的時候，她最高興做的事是捉蒼蠅;她把它們的翅膀拉掉，使它們變成爬蟲。她還喜歡捉金龜子和甲蟲，把它們一個個串在針上，然后在它們腳旁邊放一片綠葉子或一片紙。這些可憐的生物就抓著紙，而且抓得很緊，把它翻來翻去，掙扎著，想擺脫這根針。
“金龜子在讀書啦!”小英格兒說。“你看，它在翻這張紙!”
她越長大就越變得頑皮。但是她很美麗;這正是她的不幸。要不然的話，她也許會被管教得不像現在這個樣子。
“你的頑固需要一件厲害的東西來打破它!”她的媽媽說。“你小時常常踩在我的圍裙上;恐怕有一天你會踩在我的心上。”
這正是她所做的事情。
現在她來到鄉下，在一個有錢人家里當傭人。主人待她像自己的孩子，把她打扮得也像自己的孩子。她的外表很好看，結果她就更放肆了。
她工作了將近一年以后，女主人對她說：“英格兒，你應該去看看你的父母了!”
她當真去了，不過她是為了要表現自己，叫他們看看她現在是多么文雅才去的。她來到村邊的時候，看見許多年輕的農夫和女人站在那兒閑談;她自己的媽媽也在他們中間，正坐在一塊石頭上休息，面前放著她在樹林里撿的一捆柴。英格兒這時轉身就走，因為她覺得很羞恥;像她這樣一個穿得漂亮的女子，居然有這樣一個襤樓的母親，而且要到樹林里去撿柴!她回頭走了，并不覺得難過，她只是感到有些煩惱。
又有半年過去了。“英格兒，你應該回家去一趟，去看看你年老的父母!”女主人說。“我給你一條長面包，你可以把它送給他們。他們一定很高興看到你的。”
英格兒穿上她最好的衣服和新鞋子。她提起衣襟小心翼翼地走，為的是要使她的腳不沾上臟東西。這當然是不能責備她的。不過她來到一塊沼澤地，有好長一段路要經過泥巴和水坑。于是她便把那條面包扔進泥巴里，在上面踩過去，以免把腳打濕。不過，當她的一只腳踏在面包上、另一只腳蹺起來打算向前走的時候，面包就和她一道沉下去了，而且越沉越深，直到她沉得沒了頂。現在只剩下一個冒著泡的黑水坑。
這就是那個故事。英格兒到什么地方去了呢?她到熬酒的沼澤女人那兒去了。沼澤女人是許多小女妖精的姨媽——這些小妖精是相當馳名的，關于她們的歌已經寫得不少了，關于她們的圖畫也繪得不少了，不過，關于這個沼澤女人，人們所知道的只有這一點：在夏天，凡是草地冒出蒸汽，那就是因為她在熬酒。英格兒恰恰是陷落到她的酒廠里去了;在這兒誰也忍受不了多久。跟沼澤女人的酒廠相比，一個泥巴坑要算是一個漂亮的房間。每一個酒桶都發出一種怪味，可以使人昏倒。這些酒桶緊緊地挨在一起。如果它們之間有什么空隙可以使人走過去的話，你也沒有辦法通過，因為這兒有許多癩蛤蟆和火蛇，糾作一團。英格兒恰恰落到這些東西中間去了。這一大堆可怕的爬行的活物是冰冷的，弄得她四肢發抖。的確，她慢慢地凍得僵硬起來。她緊緊地踏著面包，而面包拉著她往下沉，像一顆琥珀鈕扣吸住一根稻草一樣。
沼澤女人正在家里。這天魔鬼和他的老祖母來參觀酒廠。老祖母是一個惡毒的女人;她是永遠不會閑著的。她出來拜訪別人的時候，手頭總是帶著工作做;她來到這兒也是一樣。她正在男人的鞋子上縫“游蕩的皮”，使得他們東飄西蕩，在任何地方也安居不下來。她編一些謊話，把人們所講的一些讕言收集到一起。她所做的一切都是為了要損害人類。的確，這個老祖母知道怎樣縫，怎樣編，怎樣收集!
她一看到英格兒，就戴起雙層眼鏡，把這個女孩仔細地看了又看：“這是一個很能干的女孩子!”她說。“我要求你把這小東西送給我，作為我來拜訪的一個紀念品。她可以成為一個很好的石像立在我孫子的前房里。”
英格兒就這樣被送給她了。英格兒就是這樣走進地獄里來的。人們并不是直接落進那里去的。只要你有那個傾向，你總會間接走進那里的。
那是一個沒有止境的前房。你如果向前望，你的頭就會發昏;你如果向后望，你的頭更會發昏。一大堆面黃肌瘦的人正在等待慈善的門向他們打開——他們要等很久!龐大的。肥胖的、蹣跚地走著的蜘蛛，在他們的腳上織出有一千年那樣陳舊的蛛網。這些網像腳鐐似地磨痛他們，像銅鏈子似地綁著他們。每個人的心里有一種不安的情緒——一種苦痛的不安的心情。這兒有一個守財奴，他忘記了把保險箱的鑰匙帶來，他知道鑰匙插在鎖里沒有拿下來。要把人們在這里所體驗到的形形色色的苦痛心情描寫出來，的確得花很多時間。英格兒作為一尊石像站在那兒，不免也感覺到這種痛苦，因為她是緊緊地焊在這條面包上的。
“一個人如果怕弄臟腳，就會得到這個結果，”她對自己說。“你看大家在怎樣死死地望著我!”是的，大家的確在望著她;他們的罪惡思想在眼睛里射出光來。他們在講著話，但是嘴唇上卻沒有什么聲音發出來：他們的樣子真可怕。
“瞧著我一定很愉快!”英格兒想，“的確，我有漂亮的面孔和整齊的衣服。”于是她把眼睛掉轉過去;她的脖子太硬了，掉轉不動。嗨，她的衣服在沼澤女人的酒廠里弄得多臟啊，她真沒有想到。她的衣服全糊滿了泥;她的頭發里盤著一條蛇，并且懸在她的背上。她衣服的每個褶紋里有一只癩蛤蟆在朝外面望，像一個患喘息病的獅子狗。這真是非常難看。“不過這兒一切別的東西也都可怕得很!”她自己安慰著自己。
最糟糕的是，她感到十分饑餓。她能不能彎下腰來，把她踩著的面包弄一塊下來吃呢?不能，她的背是僵硬的，她整個身體像一尊石像。她只能盡量把腦袋上的眼睛向一側膘過去，以便看到她的后面;這可難看極了。蒼蠅飛過來，在她的眉間爬來爬去。她眨著眼睛，但是蒼蠅并不飛開，因為飛不動;它的翅膀被拉掉了，變成了爬蟲。這是一種痛苦;饑餓則是另一種痛苦。是的，最后她覺得她的內臟在吃掉自己，她的內部完全空了，可怕地空了。
“假如一直這樣下去，那么我就支持不住了!”她說。
但是她得支持下去。事情就是這個樣子，而且將會一直是這個樣子。
這時一滴熱淚落到她的頭上來了，沿著她的臉和胸脯流下來，一直流到她踩著的面包上面。另一滴眼淚也流下來了。接著許多許多顆流下來了，誰在為英格兒哭呢?她不是在人世間有一個媽媽嗎?母親為兒女流的悲痛的眼淚，總會流到自己孩子身邊去的;但是眼淚并不會減輕悲痛，它會燃燒起來，把悲痛擴大。再加上這無法忍受的饑餓，同時又摸不到她的腳所踩著的那條面包!最后她感覺到她身體里的一切已經把自己吃光了，她自己就好像一根又薄又空的蘆葦，能夠收到所有的聲音，因為她能清楚地聽到上面世界里的人們所談的關于她的一切話語，而人們所談的都很苛刻和懷有惡意。她的母親的確為她哭得又可憐又傷心。但是她還是說：“驕傲是你掉下去的根由。英格兒，這就是你的不幸。你使你的母親多難過啊!”
她的母親和地上所有的人都知道她的罪過，都知道她曾經踩著一條面包沉下去了，不見了，這是山坡上的一個牧童講出來的。
“英格兒，你使你的母親多難過啊!”母親說。“是的，我早就想到了!”
“我只愿我沒有生到這個世界上來!”英格兒想。“那么事情就會好得多了。不過現在媽媽哭又有什么用處呢?”
于是她聽到曾經對她像慈愛的父母一樣的主人這樣說：“她是一個有罪過的孩子!”他們說，“她不珍愛上帝的禮物，把它們踩在腳下，她是不容易走進寬恕的門的。”
“他們要是早點懲罰我倒好了，”英格兒想。“把我腦子里的那些性思想趕出去——假如我有的話。”
她聽到人們怎樣為她編了一支完整的歌：“一個怕弄臟鞋子的傲慢姑娘。”這支歌全國的人都在唱。
“為了這件事我得聽多少人唱啊!為了這件事我得忍受多少痛苦啊!”英格兒想。“別的人也應該為他們自己的罪過而得到懲罰呀。是的，應該懲罰的人多著呢。啊，我是多么痛苦啊!”
她的內心比她的身體變得更僵硬。
“在這里，跟這些東西在一起，一個人是沒有辦法變好的!而我也不希望變好!看吧，他們是怎樣在瞪著我啊!”
現在她的心對一切的人都感到憤怒和憎恨。
“現在他們總算有些閑話可以聊了!啊，我是多么痛苦啊!”
于是她聽到人們把她的故事講給孩子們聽，那些小家伙把她叫做不信神的英格兒——“她是多么可增啊!”他們說，“多么壞，應該重重地受到懲罰!”
連孩子們也嚴厲地指責她。
不過有一天，當悲哀和饑餓正在咬噬著她空洞的身軀的時候，當她聽到她的名字和故事被講給一個天真的小孩聽的時候，她發現這個小女孩為了這個驕傲和虛榮的英格兒的故事而流出眼淚來。
“難道她再也不能回到這地面上來嗎?”小女孩問。回答是：“她永遠也不能回來了。”
“不過假如她請求赦罪，答應永遠不再像那個樣子呢!”
“但是她不會請求赦罪的，”回答說。
“如果她會的話，我將是多么高興啊，”小女孩說。她是非常難過的。“只要她能夠回到地上來，我愿獻出我所有的玩具。可憐的英格兒——這真可怕!”
這些話透進英格兒的心里去，似乎對她起了好的作用。這算是第一次有人說出“可憐的英格兒!”這幾個字，而一點也沒有強調她的罪過。現在居然有一個天真的孩子在為她哭，為她祈禱。這使得她有一種奇怪的感覺!她自己也想哭一場，但是她哭不出來——這本身就是一種痛苦。
地上的歲月一年一年地過去了，而下邊的世界卻一點也沒有改變。她不再聽到上面的人談起她的事情了。人們不大談到她。最后有一天她聽到一聲嘆息：“英格兒!英格兒!你使我多傷心啊2我早就想到了!”這是她將死的母親的嘆息聲。
她可以偶爾聽到，她以前的老主人提起了她的名字。女主人說的話是最和善的。她說：“英格兒，難道我再也看不到你么?人們不知道你到什么地方去了。”
不過英格兒知道得很清楚，好心的女主人決沒有辦法到她這兒來的。
時間慢慢地過去——漫長和苦痛的時間。
英格兒又聽到別人提起她的名字，并且看到頭上好像有兩顆明亮的星星在照耀著。這是地上閉著的兩顆溫柔的眼睛。自從那個小女孩傷心地哭著“可憐的英格兒”的時候起，已經有許多年過去了。小女孩現在已經成了一個老太婆，快要被上帝召回去了。在彌留之際正當她一生的事情都在眼前出現的時候，這位老太婆記起，當她是一個小姑娘的時候，她曾經聽到英格兒的遭遇，并且為她痛哭過。那個時刻，那個情景，都在這位老太婆最后的一分鐘里出現了。她差不多大聲地叫起來：“上帝啊，我不知道我是否也像英格兒一樣，常常無心地踩著您賜給我的禮物，我不知道我心里是否也充滿了傲慢的思想，但是您在慈悲之中并沒有讓我墜下去。卻把我托了起來!請您不要在我最后的一瞬間離開我!”
這個老太婆的眼睛合起來了，但她的靈魂的眼睛卻是對著一切隱藏著的東西張開著的。英格兒在她最后的思想中生動地出現，她現在看到了她，看到她沉得多么深。這景象使這個虔誠的女人流出淚來。她像一個小孩子似地在天國里站著，為可憐的英格兒流淚。她的眼淚和祈禱，在這個受苦的、被囚禁的、無望的女子周圍的暗空中，聽起來像一個回聲。這種來自上面的、不曾想到過的愛，把她征服了，因為有一個安琪兒在為她流淚!為什么會有這樣的東西賜給她呢?這個苦難中的靈魂似乎回憶起了她在地上所做的每件事情;她哭得全身抽動起來，英格兒從來沒有這樣哭過。她對于自己感到非常悲哀。她覺得寬恕的門永遠不會為她打開。當她在悔恨中認識到這一點的時候，馬上一線光明就向地下的深淵射來。它的力量比那融掉孩子們在花園里所做的雪人的太陽光還強，它比落在孩子們的熱嘴唇上的雪花融化成水滴的速度還要快。于是僵化了的英格兒就變成了一陣煙霧;于是一只小鳥，以閃電的速度，飛到人世間去。不過這只鳥兒對于周圍的一切感到非常羞怯，它對自己感到慚愧，害怕遇見任何生物，它飛進一個倒塌的墻上的黑洞里去躲藏起來。它在里面縮作一團，全身發抖，一點聲音也發不出來，這是因為它沒有聲音。它在那里藏了很久以后才能安靜地看出和辨別出周圍的美麗景物。的確，周圍是很美的：空氣是新鮮和溫和的;月亮照得那么明朗;樹和灌木發出清香。它棲身的那個地方是那么舒適;它的羽衣是那么凈潔。啊，天地萬物都表示出美和愛!這只鳥兒想把在它心里激動著的思想全都唱出來，但是它沒有這種力量。它真希望能像春天的杜鵑和夜鶯那樣唱一陣歌呢。我們的上帝，他能聽出蠕蟲無聲的頌歌，也能聽出這鳥兒胸中顫動著的贊美曲，正如他能聽出大衛心里還沒有形成歌詞的圣詩一樣①。
這些無聲的歌，在鳥兒的心中波動了好幾個星期。只要好的行為一開始，這些歌馬上就要飛翔出來，而現在也應該有一件好的行為了。
最后，神圣的圣誕節到來了。一個農人在一口古井旁豎起一根竿子，上面綁了些麥穗，好叫天上的鳥兒也過一個愉快的圣誕節，在我們救主的這個節日里能滿意地吃一餐。
圣誕節的早晨，太陽升起來了，照在麥穗上面。所有歌唱著的小鳥繞著竿子飛。這時那個墻洞里也發出“嘰嘰”的聲音。那動蕩著的思想現在變成了歌。那柔弱的嘰嘰聲現在成了一首完整的歡樂頌。要做出一件好的行為——這思想已經活躍起來了。這只鳥兒從它藏身處飛出來。天國里的人都知道這是一只什么鳥兒。
這是一個嚴峻的冬天。水池里都結滿了冰。田野里的動物和高空中的鳥兒都因為沒有食物而感到苦惱。這只小鳥兒飛到公路上去;它在雪橇的轍印里找到一些麥粒，在停留站里找到一些面包屑。在它找到的這些東西中，它自己只吃很少的一部分，卻把大部分用來請許多別的饑餓的鳥兒來共享。它飛到城里去，在四處尋找。當它看到窗臺上有許多慈善的手為鳥兒撒了一些面包屑時，它自己只吃一丁點，而把其余的都送給別的鳥兒。
在這整個冬天，這只鳥兒收集得來和送給別的鳥兒的面包屑，已經比得上英格兒為了怕弄臟鞋子而踩著的那條面包。當它找到了最后一塊面包屑，把它獻出來的時候，它的灰色的翅膀就變成了白色的，并且伸展開來。
“請看那一只海燕，它在橫渡大海，”孩子們看到這只白鳥的時候說。它一會兒向海面低飛，一會兒向明朗的太陽光上升。它發出閃光。誰也不知道它飛向什么地方去了;有的人說，它直接飛向了太陽。
①據傳說，《圣經·舊約全書》里的《詩篇》和《雅歌》等卷主要是以色列王大衛和所羅門所作。
踩著面包走的女孩英文版：
The Girl Who Trod on the Loaf
THERE was once a girl who trod on a loaf to avoid soiling her shoes, and the misfortunes that happened to her in consequence are well known. Her name was Inge; she was a poor child, but proud and presuming, and with a bad and cruel disposition. When quite a little child she would delight in catching flies, and tearing off their wings, so as to make creeping things of them. When older, she would take cockchafers and beetles, and stick pins through them. Then she pushed a green leaf, or a little scrap of paper towards their feet, and when the poor creatures would seize it and hold it fast, and turn over and over in their struggles to get free from the pin, she would say, “The cockchafer is reading; see how he turns over the leaf.” She grew worse instead of better with years, and, unfortunately, she was pretty, which caused her to be excused, when she should have been sharply reproved.
“Your headstrong will requires severity to conquer it,” her mother often said to her. “As a little child you used to trample on my apron, but one day I fear you will trample on my heart.” And, alas! this fear was realized.
Inge was taken to the house of some rich people, who lived at a distance, and who treated her as their own child, and dressed her so fine that her pride and arrogance increased.
When she had been there about a year, her patroness said to her, “You ought to go, for once, and see your parents, Inge.”
So Inge started to go and visit her parents; but she only wanted to show herself in her native place, that the people might see how fine she was. She reached the entrance of the village, and saw the young laboring men and maidens standing together chatting, and her own mother amongst them. Inge’s mother was sitting on a stone to rest, with a fagot of sticks lying before her, which she had picked up in the wood. Then Inge turned back; she who was so finely dressed she felt ashamed of her mother, a poorly clad woman, who picked up wood in the forest. She did not turn back out of pity for her mother’s poverty, but from pride.
Another half-year went by, and her mistress said, “you ought to go home again, and visit your parents, Inge, and I will give you a large wheaten loaf to take to them, they will be glad to see you, I am sure.”
So Inge put on her best clothes, and her new shoes, drew her dress up around her, and set out, stepping very carefully, that she might be clean and neat about the feet, and there was nothing wrong in doing so. But when she came to the place where the footpath led across the moor, she found small pools of water, and a great deal of mud, so she threw the loaf into the mud, and trod upon it, that she might pass without wetting her feet. But as she stood with one foot on the loaf and the other lifted up to step forward, the loaf began to sink under her, lower and lower, till she disappeared altogether, and only a few bubbles on the surface of the muddy pool remained to show where she had sunk. And this is the story.
But where did Inge go? She sank into the ground, and went down to the Marsh Woman, who is always brewing there.
The Marsh Woman is related to the elf maidens, who are well-known, for songs are sung and pictures painted about them. But of the Marsh Woman nothing is known, excepting that when a mist arises from the meadows, in summer time, it is because she is brewing beneath them. To the Marsh Woman’s brewery Inge sunk down to a place which no one can endure for long. A heap of mud is a palace compared with the Marsh Woman’s brewery; and as Inge fell she shuddered in every limb, and soon became cold and stiff as marble. Her foot was still fastened to the loaf, which bowed her down as a golden ear of corn bends the stem.
An evil spirit soon took possession of Inge, and carried her to a still worse place, in which she saw crowds of unhappy people, waiting in a state of agony for the gates of mercy to be opened to them, and in every heart was a miserable and eternal feeling of unrest. It would take too much time to describe the various tortures these people suffered, but Inge’s punishment consisted in standing there as a statue, with her foot fastened to the loaf. She could move her eyes about, and see all the misery around her, but she could not turn her head; and when she saw the people looking at her she thought they were admiring her pretty face and fine clothes, for she was still vain and proud. But she had forgotten how soiled her clothes had become while in the Marsh Woman’s brewery, and that they were covered with mud; a snake had also fastened itself in her hair, and hung down her back, while from each fold in her dress a great toad peeped out and croaked like an asthmatic poodle. Worse than all was the terrible hunger that tormented her, and she could not stoop to break off a piece of the loaf on which she stood. No; her back was too stiff, and her whole body like a pillar of stone. And then came creeping over her face and eyes flies without wings; she winked and blinked, but they could not fly away, for their wings had been pulled off; this, added to the hunger she felt, was horrible torture.
“If this lasts much longer,” she said, “I shall not be able to bear it.” But it did last, and she had to bear it, without being able to help herself.
A tear, followed by many scalding tears, fell upon her head, and rolled over her face and neck, down to the loaf on which she stood. Who could be weeping for Inge? She had a mother in the world still, and the tears of sorrow which a mother sheds for her child will always find their way to the child’s heart, but they often increase the torment instead of being a relief. And Inge could hear all that was said about her in the world she had left, and every one seemed cruel to her. The sin she had committed in treading on the loaf was known on earth, for she had been seen by the cowherd from the hill, when she was crossing the marsh and had disappeared.
When her mother wept and exclaimed, “Ah, Inge! what grief thou hast caused thy mother” she would say, “Oh that I had never been born! My mother’s tears are useless now.”
And then the words of the kind people who had adopted her came to her ears, when they said, “Inge was a sinful girl, who did not value the gifts of God, but trampled them under her feet.”
“Ah,” thought Inge, “they should have punished me, and driven all my naughty tempers out of me.”
A song was made about “The girl who trod on a loaf to keep her shoes from being soiled,” and this song was sung everywhere. The story of her sin was also told to the little children, and they called her “wicked Inge,” and said she was so naughty that she ought to be punished. Inge heard all this, and her heart became hardened and full of bitterness.
But one day, while hunger and grief were gnawing in her hollow frame, she heard a little, innocent child, while listening to the tale of the vain, haughty Inge, burst into tears and exclaim, “But will she never come up again?”
And she heard the reply, “No, she will never come up again.”
“But if she were to say she was sorry, and ask pardon, and promise never to do so again?” asked the little one.
“Yes, then she might come; but she will not beg pardon,” was the answer.
“Oh, I wish she would!” said the child, who was quite unhappy about it. “I should be so glad. I would give up my doll and all my playthings, if she could only come here again. Poor Inge! it is so dreadful for her.”
These pitying words penetrated to Inge’s inmost heart, and seemed to do her good. It was the first time any one had said, “Poor Inge!” without saying something about her faults. A little innocent child was weeping, and praying for mercy for her. It made her feel quite strange, and she would gladly have wept herself, and it added to her torment to find she could not do so. And while she thus suffered in a place where nothing changed, years passed away on earth, and she heard her name less frequently mentioned. But one day a sigh reached her ear, and the words, “Inge! Inge! what a grief thou hast been to me! I said it would be so.” It was the last sigh of her dying mother.
After this, Inge heard her kind mistress say, “Ah, poor Inge! shall I ever see thee again? Perhaps I may, for we know not what may happen in the future.” But Inge knew right well that her mistress would never come to that dreadful place.
Time-passed—a long bitter time—then Inge heard her name pronounced once more, and saw what seemed two bright stars shining above her. They were two gentle eyes closing on earth. Many years had passed since the little girl had lamented and wept about “poor Inge.” That child was now an old woman, whom God was taking to Himself. In the last hour of existence the events of a whole life often appear before us; and this hour the old woman remembered how, when a child, she had shed tears over the story of Inge, and she prayed for her now. As the eyes of the old woman closed to earth, the eyes of the soul opened upon the hidden things of eternity, and then she, in whose last thoughts Inge had been so vividly present, saw how deeply the poor girl had sunk. She burst into tears at the sight, and in heaven, as she had done when a little child on earth, she wept and prayed for poor Inge. Her tears and her prayers echoed through the dark void that surrounded the tormented captive soul, and the unexpected mercy was obtained for it through an angel’s tears. As in thought Inge seemed to act over again every sin she had committed on earth, she trembled, and tears she had never yet been able to weep rushed to her eyes. It seemed impossible that the gates of mercy could ever be opened to her; but while she acknowledged this in deep penitence, a beam of radiant light shot suddenly into the depths upon her. More powerful than the sunbeam that dissolves the man of snow which the children have raised, more quickly than the snowflake melts and becomes a drop of water on the warm lips of a child, was the stony form of Inge changed, and as a little bird she soared, with the speed of lightning, upward to the world of mortals. A bird that felt timid and shy to all things around it, that seemed to shrink with shame from meeting any living creature, and hurriedly sought to conceal itself in a dark corner of an old ruined wall; there it sat cowering and unable to utter a sound, for it was voiceless. Yet how quickly the little bird discovered the beauty of everything around it. The sweet, fresh air; the soft radiance of the moon, as its light spread over the earth; the fragrance which exhaled from bush and tree, made it feel happy as it sat there clothed in its fresh, bright plumage. All creation seemed to speak of beneficence and love. The bird wanted to give utterance to thoughts that stirred in his breast, as the cuckoo and the nightingale in the spring, but it could not. Yet in heaven can be heard the song of praise, even from a worm; and the notes trembling in the breast of the bird were as audible to Heaven even as the psalms of David before they had fashioned themselves into words and song.
Christmas-time drew near, and a peasant who dwelt close by the old wall stuck up a pole with some ears of corn fastened to the top, that the birds of heaven might have feast, and rejoice in the happy, blessed time. And on Christmas morning the sun arose and shone upon the ears of corn, which were quickly surrounded by a number of twittering birds. Then, from a hole in the wall, gushed forth in song the swelling thoughts of the bird as he issued from his hiding place to perform his first good deed on earth,—and in heaven it was well known who that bird was.
The winter was very hard; the ponds were covered with ice, and there was very little food for either the beasts of the field or the birds of the air. Our little bird flew away into the public roads, and found here and there, in the ruts of the sledges, a grain of corn, and at the halting places some crumbs. Of these he ate only a few, but he called around him the other birds and the hungry sparrows, that they too might have food. He flew into the towns, and looked about, and wherever a kind hand had strewed bread on the window-sill for the birds, he only ate a single crumb himself, and gave all the rest to the rest of the other birds. In the course of the winter the bird had in this way collected many crumbs and given them to other birds, till they equalled the weight of the loaf on which Inge had trod to keep her shoes clean; and when the last bread-crumb had been found and given, the gray wings of the bird became white, and spread themselves out for flight.
“See, yonder is a sea-gull!” cried the children, when they saw the white bird, as it dived into the sea, and rose again into the clear sunlight, white and glittering. But no one could tell whither it went then although some declared it flew straight to the sun.
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