and the man came to the house where I was in service, to fetch away the dust. I went down to him with the dust box, and stood for a moment at the door,—what shocking weather it was!—and while I stood there, the postman came up and brought me a letter from you. How that letter had travelled about! I tore it open and read it. I laughed and wept at the same time, I was so happy. It said that you were in warm countries, where the coffee berries grew, and what a beautiful country it was, and described many other wonderful things; and so I stood reading by the dust-bin, with the rain pouring down, when, all at once, somebody came, and clasped me round the waist.’ ‘Yes; and you gave him such a box on the ears, that they tingled,’ said the old man. ‘I did not know that it was you,’ she replied, ‘but you had arrived as quickly as your letter, and you looked so handsome, and, indeed, so you are still. You had a large yellow silk handkerchief in your pocket, and a shiny hat on your head. You looked quite fine. And, all the time, what weather it was! and how dismal the street looked!’ ‘And then do you remember,’ said he, ‘when we were married, and our first boy came, and then Marie, and Niels, and Peter, and Hans Christian?’ ‘Indeed I do,’ she replied; ‘and they are all grown up respectable men and women, whom every one likes’ ‘And now their children have little ones,’ said the old sailor. ‘There are great-grandchildren for us, strong and healthy too.’ ‘Was it not about this time of the year that we were married?’ ‘Yes; and to-day is the golden wedding-day,’ said the Elder-tree mother, popping her head out just between the two old people; and they thought it was a neighbour nodding to them. Then they looked at each other, and clasped their hands together. Presently came their children and grandchildren, who knew very well that it was the golden wedding-day. They had already wished them joy on that very morning; but the old people had forgotten it, although they remembered so well all that had happened many years before. And the elder-tree smelt sweetly, and the setting sun shone upon the faces of the old people till they looked quite ruddy; and the youngest of their grandchildren danced round them joyfully, and said they were going to have a feast in the evening, and there were to be hot potatoes. Then the Elder-mother nodded in the tree, and cried ‘Hurrah,’ with all the rest.”
“But that is not a story,” said the little boy, who had been listening.
“Not till you understand it,” said the old man; “but let us ask the Elder-mother to explain it.”
“It was not exactly a story,” said the Elder-mother; “but the story is coming now, and it is a true one. For out of truth grow the most wonderful stories, just as my beautiful elder-bush has sprung out of the tea-pot.” And then she took the little boy out of bed, and laid him on her bosom; and the blooming branches of elder closed over them, so that they sat as it were in a leafy bower; and the bower flew with them through the air in the most delightful manner. Then the Elder-mother all at once changed to a beautiful young maiden; but her dress was still of the same green stuff, ornamented with a border of white elder-blossoms, such as the Elder-mother had worn. In her bosom she wore a real elder-flower, and a wreath of the
