FAIRY　TALES　OF　HANS　CHRISTIAN　ANDERSEN
  BY　THE　ALMSHOUSE　WINDOW
  by　Hans　Christian　Andersen
  NEAR　the　grass…covered　rampart　which　encircles　Copenhagen　lies　a
  great　red　house。　Balsams　and　other　flowers　greet　us　from　the　long　rows
  of　windows　in　the　house；　whose　interior　is　sufficiently
  poverty…stricken；　and　poor　and　old　are　the　people　who　inhabit　it。
  The　building　is　the　Warton　Almshouse。
  Look！　at　the　window　there　leans　an　old　maid。　She　plucks　the
  withered　leaf　from　the　balsam；　and　looks　at　the　grass…covered　rampart；
  on　which　many　children　are　playing。　What　is　the　old　maid　thinking
  of？　A　whole　life　drama　is　unfolding　itself　before　her　inward　gaze。
  〃The　poor　little　children；　how　happy　they　are…　how　merrily　they
  play　and　romp　together！　What　red　cheeks　and　what　angels'　eyes！　but
  they　have　no　shoes　nor　stockings。　They　dance　on　the　green　rampart；
  just　on　the　place　where；　according　to　the　old　story；　the　ground　always
  sank　in；　and　where　a　sportive；　frolicsome　child　had　been　lured　by
  means　of　flowers；　toys　and　sweetmeats　into　an　open　grave　ready　dug　for
  it；　and　which　was　afterwards　closed　over　the　child；　and　from　that
  moment；　the　old　story　says；　the　ground　gave　way　no　longer；　the　mound
  remained　firm　and　fast；　and　was　quickly　covered　with　the　green　turf。
  The　little　people　who　now　play　on　that　spot　know　nothing　of　the　old
  tale；　else　would　they　fancy　they　heard　a　child　crying　deep　below　the
  earth；　and　the　dewdrops　on　each　blade　of　grass　would　be　to　them
  tears　of　woe。　Nor　do　they　know　anything　of　the　Danish　King　who　here；
  in　the　face　of　the　coming　foe；　took　an　oath　before　all　his　trembling
  courtiers　that　he　would　hold　out　with　the　citizens　of　his　capital；　and
  die　here　in　his　nest；　they　know　nothing　of　the　men　who　have　fought
  here；　or　of　the　women　who　from　here　have　drenched　with　boiling　water
  the　enemy；　clad　in　white；　and　'biding　in　the　snow　to　surprise　the
  city。
  〃No！　the　poor　little　ones　are　playing　with　light；　childish
  spirits。　Play　on；　play　on；　thou　little　maiden！　Soon　the　years　will
  come…　yes；　those　glorious　years。　The　priestly　hands　have　been　laid
  on　the　candidates　for　confirmation；　hand　in　hand　they　walk　on　the
  green　rampart。　Thou　hast　a　white　frock　on；　it　has　cost　thy　mother　much
  labor；　and　yet　it　is　only　cut　down　for　thee　out　of　an　old　larger
  dress！　You　will　also　wear　a　red　shawl；　and　what　if　it　hang　too　far
  down？　People　will　only　see　how　large；　how　very　large　it　is。　You　are
  thinking　of　your　dress；　and　of　the　Giver　of　all　good…　so　glorious　is
  it　to　wander　on　the　green　rampart！
  〃And　the　years　roll　by；　they　have　no　lack　of　dark　days；　but　you
  have　your　cheerful　young　spirit；　and　you　have　gained　a　friend…　you
  know　not　how。　You　met；　oh；　how　often！　You　walk　together　on　the　rampart
  in　the　fresh　spring；　on　the　high　days　and　holidays；　when　all　the　world
  come　out　to　walk　upon　the　ramparts；　and　all　the　bells　of　the　church
  steeples　seem　to　be　singing　a　song　of　praise　for　the　coming　spring。
  〃Scarcely　have　the　violets　come　forth；　but　there　on　the　rampart；
  just　opposite　the　beautiful　Castle　of　Rosenberg；　there　is　a　tree
  bright　with　the　first　green　buds。　Every　year　this　tree　sends　forth
  fresh　green　shoots。　Alas！　It　is　not　so　with　the　human　heart！　Dark
  mists；　more　in　number　than　those　that　cover　the　northern　skies；
  cloud　the　human　heart。　Poor　child！　thy　friend's　bridal　chamber　is　a
  black　coffin；　and　thou　becomest　an　old　maid。　From　the　almshouse
  window；　behind　the　balsams；　thou　shalt　look　on　the　merry　children　at
  play；　and　shalt　see　thine　own　history　renewed。〃
  And　that　is　the　life　drama　that　passes　before　the　old　maid　while
  she　looks　out　upon　the　rampart；　the　green；　sunny　rampart；　where　the
  children；　with　their　red　cheeks　and　bare　shoeless　feet；　are
  rejoicing　merrily；　like　the　other　free　little　birds。
  THE　END
  。