Classic Fairy Tales

There was a little sea fish of good family, the name of which I don’t remember; that the more learned will have to tell you. This little fish had eighteen hundred brothers and sisters, all the same age; they didn’t know their father or mother, so they had to care for themselves and swim about on their own, but that was a lot of fun. They had plenty of water to drink – the entire ocean. They didn’t think about their food; that was sure to come their way. Each did as he pleased; each would have his own story, but then none of them thought about that.

“Such lovely roses!” said the Sunshine. “And each bud will soon burst in bloom and be equally beautiful. These are my children. It is I who have kissed them to life.”

There was a proud Teapot, proud of being made of porcelain, proud of its long spout and its broad handle. It had something in front of it and behind it; the spout was in front, and the handle behind, and that was what it talked about. But it didn’t mention its lid, for it was cracked and it was riveted and full of defects, and we don’t talk about our defects – other people do that. The cups, the cream pitcher, the sugar bowl – in fact, the whole tea service – thought much more about the defects in the lid and talked more about it than about the sound handle and the distinguished spout. The Teapot knew this.

The Emperor’s horse was shod with gold – a golden shoe on each of its feet.

You know the story of Holger Danske, so we won’t repeat it, but will ask you if you remember how “Holger Danske conquered the great land of India, eastward at the end of the world, to the tree called ‘the Tree of the Sun,’ ” as Christen Pedersen says. Do you know Christen Pedersen? It makes no difference if you don’t.

In a nursery where a number of toys lay scattered about, a money-box stood on the top of a very high wardrobe. It was made of clay in the shape of a pig, and had been bought of the potter.

Yes, in a thousand years people will fly on the wings of steam through the air, over the ocean! The young inhabitants of America will become visitors of old Europe. They will come over to see the monuments and the great cities, which will then be in ruins, just as we in our time make pilgrimages to the tottering splendors of Southern Asia.

It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and the darkness, a poor little girl, with bare head and naked feet, roamed through the streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she left home, but they were not of much use.

There was once a poor Prince, who had a kingdom. His kingdom was very small, but still quite large enough to marry upon; and he wished to marry.