She now sat under the most magnificent Christmas tree, that was larger, and more superbly decked, than even the one she had seen through the glass door at the rich merchant's. A thousand tapers burned on its green branches, and gay pictures, such as one sees on targets, seemed to be looking down upon her. The match then went out.
The Christmas lights kept rising higher and higher. They now looked like stars in the sky.
One of them fell down, and left a long streak of fire. "Somebody is now dying," thought the little girl—for her old grandmother, the only person who had ever loved her, and who was now dead, had told her, that when a star falls, it is a sign that a soul is going up to heaven.
She again rubbed a match upon the wall, and it was again light all round; and in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining like a spirit, yet looking so mild and loving.
"Grandmother," cried the little one, "oh! take me with you! I know you will go away when the match goes out—you will vanish like the warm stove, and the delicious roast goose, and the fine, large Christmas-tree?"
And she made haste to rub the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to hold her grandmother fast.
And the matches gave a light that was brighter than noonday. Her grandmother had never appeared so beautiful nor so large. She took the little girl in her arms, and both flew upwards, all radiant and joyful, far—far above mortal ken—where there was neither cold, nor hunger, nor care to be found; for it was to the land of the blessed that they had flown.
But, in the cold dawn, the poor girl might be seen leaning against the wall, with red cheeks and smiling mouth: she had been frozen on the last night of the old year.
The new year's sun shone upon the little corpse.
The child sat in the stiffness of death, still holding the matches, one bundle of which was burned.
People said: "She tried to warm herself"
Nobody dreamed of the fine things she had seen, nor in what splendour she had entered upon the joys of the new year, together with her grandmother.
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he Real Princess
THERE was once a prince who wished to marry a princess; but he wanted her to be a real princess. He travelled all round the world to find such one, but there was always something wrong. Not that there was any lack of princesses, but as to whether or no they were real ones, he could not always make out. There was sure to be something in the way that was not quite satisfactory. At length he returned home, quite out of spirits, for he wished so to find a real princess.
One evening there was a dreadful storm. It thundered and lightened, and poured of rain, till it was quite dreadful. There came a knock at the town-gate, and the old king went and opened it. A princess stood outside the gate—but, oh dear I what a state she was in from the rain and the bad weather! The water was dripping down from her hair and her clothes, and running in at the tips of her shoes and coming out at the heels. Yet she said she was a real princess.
"Well, that we'll presently see," thought the old
