“我的可怜的花儿都已经死了!”小意达说。“昨天晚上他们还是那么美丽，现在他们的叶子却都垂下来了，枯萎了。他们为什么要这样呢?”她问一个坐在沙发上的学生。因为她很喜欢他。他会讲一些非常美丽的故事，会剪出一些很有趣的图案：小姑娘在一颗心房里跳舞的图案、花朵的图案，还有门可以自动开启的一个大宫殿的图案。他是一个快乐的学生。
“为什么花儿今天显得这样没有精神呢?”她又问，同时把一束已经枯萎了的花指给他看。
“你可知道他们做了什么事情!”学生问，“这些花儿昨夜去参加了一个跳舞会啦，因此他们今天把头垂下来了。”
“可是花儿并不会跳舞呀，”小意达说。
“嗨，他们可会跳啦，”学生说，“天一黑，我们去睡了以后，他们就兴高采烈地围着跳起来。差不多每天晚上他们都有一个舞会。”
“小孩子可不可以去参加这个舞会呢?”
“当然可以的，”学生说，“小小的雏菊和铃兰花都可以的。”
“这些顶美丽的花儿在什么地方跳舞呢?”小意达问。
“你到城门外的那座大宫殿里去过吗?国王在夏天就搬到那儿去住，那儿有最美丽的花园，里面有各种颜色的花。你看到过那些天鹅吗?当你要抛给它们面包屑的时候，它们就向你游来。美丽的舞会就是在那儿举行的，你相信我的话吧。”
“我昨天就和我的妈妈到那个花园里去过，”小意达说，“可是那儿树上的叶子全都落光了，而且一朵花儿都没有!它们到什么地方去了呀?我在夏天看到过那么多的花。”
“它们都搬进宫里去了呀，”学生说。“你要知道，等到国王和他的臣仆们迁到城里去了以后，这些花儿就马上从花园跑进宫里去，在那儿欢乐地玩起来。你应该看看它们的那副样儿才好。那两朵顶美丽的玫瑰花自己坐上王位，做起花王和花后来。所有的红鸡冠花都排在两边站着，弯着腰行礼，它们就是花王的侍从。各种好看的花儿都来了，于是一个盛大的舞会就开始了。蓝色的紫罗兰就是小小的海军学生，它们把风信子和番红花称为小姐，跟她们一起跳起舞来。郁金香和高大的卷丹花就是老太太。她们在旁监督，要舞会开得好，要大家都守规矩。”
“不过，”小意达问，“这些花儿在国王的宫里跳起舞来，难道就没有人来干涉它们吗?”
“因为没有谁真正知道这件事情呀，”学生说，“当然喽，有时那位年老的宫殿管理人夜间到那里去，因为他得在那里守夜。他带着一大把钥匙。可是当花儿一听到钥匙响的时候，它们马上就静下来，躲到那些长窗帘后面去，只是把头偷偷地伸出来。那位老管理人只是说，‘我闻到这儿有点花香’;但是他却看不见它们。”
“这真是滑稽得很!”小意达说，拍着双手，“不过我可不可以瞧瞧这些花儿呢?”
“可以的，”学生说，“你再去的时候，只须记住偷偷地朝窗子里看一眼，就可以瞧见它们。今天我就是这样做的。有一朵长长的黄水仙花懒洋洋地躺在沙发上，她满以为自己是一位宫廷的贵妇人呢!”
“植物园的花儿也可以到那儿去吗?它们能走那么远的路吗?”
“能的，这点你可以放心，”学生说。“如果它们愿意的话，它们还可以飞呢。你看到过那些红的、黄的、白的蝴蝶吗?它们看起来差不多像花朵一样，它们本来也是花朵。它们曾经从花枝上高高地跳向空中，拍着它们的花瓣，好像这就是小小的翅膀似的。这么着，它们就飞起来啦。因为它们很有礼貌，所以得到许可也能在白天飞，它们不必再回到家里去，死死地呆在花枝上了。这样，它们的花瓣最后也就变成真正的翅膀了。这些东西你已经亲眼看过。很可能植物园的花儿从来没有到国王的宫里去过，而且很可能它们完全不知道那儿晚间是多么有趣。唔，我现在可以教你一件事，准叫那位住在这附近的植物学教授感到非常惊奇。你认识他，不是么?下次你走到他的花园里去的时候，请你带一个信给一朵花儿，说是宫里有人在开一个盛大的舞会。那么这朵花就会转告所有别的花儿，于是它们就会全部飞走的。等那位教授走到花园来的时候，他将一朵花也看不见。他决不会猜得出花儿都跑到什么地方去了。”
“不过，花儿怎么会互相传话呢?花儿是不会讲话的呀。”
“当然咯，它们是不会讲话的，”学生回答说，“不过它们会做表情呀。你一定注意到，当风在微微吹动着的时候，花儿就点起头来，把它们所有的绿叶子全都摇动着。这些姿势它们都明白，跟讲话一样。”
“那位教授能懂得它们的表情吗?”小意达问。
“当然懂得。有一天早晨他走进他的花园，看到一棵有刺的大荨麻正在那儿用它的叶子对美丽的红荷兰石竹花打着手势。它是在说：‘你是那么美丽，我多么爱你呀!’可是老教授看不惯这类事儿，所以他就马上在荨麻的叶子上打了一巴拿，因为叶子就是它的手指。不过这样他就刺痛了自己，所以从此以后他再也不敢碰一下荨麻了。”
“这倒很滑稽，”小意达说，同时大笑起来。
“居然把这样的怪想头灌进一个孩子的脑子里去!”一位怪讨厌的枢密顾问官说。他这时恰好来拜访，坐在一个沙发上。他不太喜欢这个学生，当他一看到这个学生剪出一些滑稽好笑的图案时，他就要发牢骚。这些图案有时剪的是一个人吊在绞架上，手里捧着一颗心，表示他曾偷过许多人的心;有时剪的是一个老巫婆，把自己的丈夫放在鼻梁上，骑着一把扫帚飞行。这位枢密顾问官看不惯这类东西，所以常常喜欢说刚才那样的话：“居然把这样的怪想头灌进一个孩子的脑子里去，全是些没有道理的幻想!”
不过，学生所讲的关于花儿的事情，小意达感到非常有趣，她在这个问题上想了很久。花儿垂下了头，是因为它们跳了通宵的舞，很疲倦了，无疑地，它们是病倒了。所以她就把它们带到她的别的一些玩具那儿去。这些玩具是放在一个很好看的小桌子上的，抽屉里面装的全是她心爱的东西。她的玩具娃娃苏菲亚正睡在玩偶的床里，不过小意达对她说：“苏菲亚啦，你真应该起来了。今晚你应该设法在抽屉里睡才好。可怜的花儿全都病了，它们应该睡在你的床上。这样它们也许就可以好起来。”于是她就把这玩偶移开。可是苏菲亚显出很不高兴的样子，一句话也不说。她因为不能睡在自己的床上，就生起气来了。
小意达把花儿放到玩偶的床上，用小被子把它们盖好。她还告诉它们说，现在必须安安静静地睡觉，她自己得去为它们泡一壶茶来喝，使得它们的身体可以复原，明天可以起床。同时她把窗帘拉拢，严严地遮住它们的床，免得太阳射着它们的眼睛。
这一整夜她老是想着那个学生告诉她的事情。当她自己要上床去睡的时候，她不得不先在拉拢了的窗帘后面瞧瞧。沿着窗子陈列着她母亲的一些美丽的花儿——有风信子，也有番红花。她悄悄地低声对它们说：“我知道今晚你们要去参加一个舞会。”可是这些花儿装做一句话也听不懂，连一片叶儿也不动一下。可是小意达自己心里有数。
她上了床以后，静静地躺了很久。她想，要是能够看到这些可爱的花儿在国王的宫殿里跳舞，那该多有趣啊!“我不知道我的花儿真的到那儿去过没有?”于是她就睡着了。夜里她又醒来;她梦见那些花儿和那个学生——那位枢密顾问官常常责备他，说他把一些无聊的怪想头灌到她的脑子里。小意达睡的房间是很静的，灯还在桌子上亮着，爸爸和妈妈已经睡着了。
“我不知道我的花儿现在是不是仍旧睡在苏菲亚的床上?”她对自己说。“我多么希望知道啊!”她把头稍微抬起一点，对那半掩着的房门看了一眼。她的花儿和她的所有的玩具都放在门外。她静静地听着，这时好像听到了外面房间里有个人在弹钢琴，弹得很美，很轻柔，她从来没有听过这样的琴声。
“现在花儿一定在那儿跳起舞来了!”她说，“哦，上帝，我是多么想瞧瞧它们啊!”可是她不敢起床，因为她怕惊醒了她的爸爸和妈妈。
“我只希望它们到这儿来!”她说。可是花儿并不走进来，音乐还是继续在演奏着，非常悦耳。她再也忍不住了，因为这一切是太美了。她爬出小床，静静地走到门那儿，朝着外边那个房间偷偷地望。啊，她所瞧见的那幅景象是多么有趣啊!
那个房间里没有点灯，但是仍然很亮，因为月光射进窗子，正照在地板的中央。房间里亮得差不多像白天一样，所有的风信子和番红花排成两行在地板上站着。窗槛上现在一朵花儿也没有了，只有一些空空的花盆。各种花儿在地板上团团地舞起来，它们是那么娇美。它们形成一条整齐的、长长的舞链;它们把绿色的长叶子联结起来，扭动着腰肢;钢琴旁边坐着一朵高大的黄百合花。小意达在夏天看到过他一次，因为她记得很清楚，那个学生曾经说过，“这朵花儿多么像莉妮小姐啊!”那时大家都笑他。不过现在小意达的确觉得这朵高大的黄花像那位小姐。她弹钢琴的样子跟她一模一样——把她那鹅蛋形的黄脸庞一忽儿偏向这边，一忽儿又偏向那边，同时还不时点点头，合着这美妙音乐打拍子!
一朵花都没有注意到小意达。她看到一朵很大的蓝色早春花跳到桌子的中央来。玩具就放在那上面。它一直走到那个玩偶的床旁边去，把窗帘向两边拉开。那些生病的花儿正躺在床上，但是它们马上站起来，向一些别的花儿点着头，表示它们也想参加跳舞。那个年老的扫烟囱的玩偶站了起来，它的下嘴唇有一个缺口，它对这些美丽的花儿鞠了个躬，这些花儿一点也不像害病的样子。它们跳下床来，跟其他的花儿混在一起，非常快乐。
这时好像有一件什么东西从桌上落了下来。小意达朝那儿望去，那原来是别人送给她过狂欢节的一根桦木条①。它从桌子上跳了下来!它也以为它是这些花儿中的一员。它的样子也是很可爱的。一个小小的蜡人骑在它的身上。蜡人头上戴着一顶宽大的帽子，跟枢密顾问官所戴的那顶差不多。这桦木条用它的三条红腿子径直跳到花群中去，重重地在地板上跺着脚，因为它在跳波兰的玛祖卡舞②啦。可是别的花儿没有办法跳这种舞，因为它们的身段很轻，不能够那样跺脚。
骑在桦木条上的那个蜡人忽然变得又高又大了。他像一阵旋风似地扑向纸花那儿去，说：“居然把这样的怪想头灌进一个孩子的脑子里去!全是些没有道理的幻想!”这蜡人跟那位戴宽帽子的枢密顾问官一模一样，而且他的那副面孔也是跟顾问官一样发黄和生气。可是那些纸花在他的瘦腿上打了一下，于是他缩做一团，又变成了一个渺小的蜡人。瞧他那副神气倒是满有趣的'!小意达忍不住要大笑起来了。桦木条继续跳着他的舞，弄得这位枢密顾问官也不得不跳了。现在不管他变得粗大也好，瘦长也好，或者仍然是一个戴大黑帽子的黄蜡人也好;完全没有关系。这时一些别的花儿，尤其是曾经在玩偶的床上睡过一阵子的那几朵花儿，对他说了句恭维话，于是那根桦木条也就停下让他休息了。
这时抽屉里忽然起了一阵很大的敲击声——小意达的玩偶苏菲亚跟其他许多的玩具都睡在里面。那个扫烟囱的人赶快跑到桌子旁边去，直直地趴在地上，拱起腰把抽屉顶出了一点。这时苏菲亚坐起来，向四周望了一眼，非常惊奇。
“这儿一定有一个舞会，”她说。“为什么没有人告诉我呢?”
“你愿意跟我跳舞么?”扫烟囱的人说。
“你倒是一个蛮漂亮的舞伴啦!”她回答说，把背掉向他。
于是她在抽屉上坐下来。她以为一定会有一朵花儿来请她跳舞的。可是什么花儿也没有来。因此她就故意咳嗽了几声：“咳!咳!咳!”然而还是没有花儿来请她。扫烟囱的人这时独个儿在跳，而且跳得还不坏哩。
苏菲亚看着没有什么花儿来理她，就故意从抽屉上倒下来，一直落到地板上，发出很大的响声。所有的花儿都跑过来，围着她，问她是不是跌伤了。这些花儿——尤其是曾经在她床上睡过的花儿——对她都非常亲切。可是她一点也没有跌伤。小意达的花儿都因为睡过那张很舒服的床而对她表示谢意。它们把她捧得很高，请她到月亮正照着的地板中央来，和她一起跳舞。所有其余的花儿在她周围围成一个圆圈。现在苏菲亚可高兴了!她说它们可以随便用她的床，她自己睡在抽屉里也不碍事。
可是花儿们说：“我们从心里感谢你，不过我们活不了多久。明天我们就要死了。但是请你告诉小意达，叫她把我们埋葬在花园里——那个金丝雀也是躺在那儿的。到明年夏天，我们就又可以活转来，长得更美丽了。”
“不成，你们决不能死去!”苏菲亚说。她把这些花儿吻了一下。
这时客厅的门忽然开了。一大群美丽的花儿跳着舞走进来。小意达想不出它们是从什么地方来的。它们一定是国王宫殿里的那些花儿。最先进来的是两朵鲜艳的玫瑰花。它们都戴着一顶金皇冠——原来它们就是花王和花后啦。随后就跟进来了一群美丽的紫罗兰花和荷兰石竹花。它们向各方面致敬。它们还带来了一个乐队。大朵的花和牡丹花使劲地吹着豆荚，把脸都吹红了。蓝色的风信子和小小的白色雪形花发出丁当丁当的响声，好像它们身上戴有铃似的。这音乐真有些滑稽!不一会儿，许多别的花儿也来了，它们一起跳着舞。蓝色的堇菜花、粉红的樱草花、雏菊花、铃兰花都来了。这些花儿互相接着吻。它们看起来真是美极了!
最后这些花儿互相道着晚安。于是小意达也上床去睡了。她所见到的这一切情景，又在她的梦里出现了。
当她第二天起来的时候，她急忙跑到小桌子那儿去，看看花儿是不是仍然还在。她把遮着小床的幔帐向两边拉开。是的，花儿全在，可是比起昨天来，它们显得更憔悴了。苏菲亚仍然躺在抽屉里——是小意达把她送上床的。她的样子好像还没有睡醒似的。
“你还记得你要和我说的话么?”小意达问。不过苏菲亚的样子显得很傻。她一句话也不说。
“你太不好了!”小意达说。“但是它们还是跟你一起跳了舞啦。”
于是她取出一个小小的纸盒子，上面绘了一些美丽的鸟儿。她把这盒子打开，把死了的花儿都装了进去。
“这就是你们的漂亮的棺材!”她说，“等我那住在挪威的两位表兄弟来看我的时候，他们会帮助我把你们葬在花园里的，好叫你们在来年夏天再长出来，成为更美丽的花朵。”
挪威的表兄弟是两个活泼的孩子。一个叫约那斯。一个叫亚多尔夫。他们的父亲送给了他们两张弓，他们把这东西也一起带来给小意达看。她把那些已经死去了的可怜的花儿的故事全部告诉给他们。他们就来为这些花儿举行葬礼。这两个孩子肩上背着弓，走在前面;小意达托着那装着死去的花儿的美丽匣子，走在后面。他们在花园里掘了一个小小的坟墓。小意达先吻了吻这些花，然后把它们连匣子一起埋在土里。约那斯和亚多尔夫在坟上射着箭，作为敬礼，因为他们既没有枪，又没有炮。
①狂欢节的桦木条(Fastelasns-Riset)是一根涂着彩色的桦木棍子;丹麦的小孩子把它拿来当作马骑。
②玛祖卡舞是一种轻快活泼的波兰舞。
小意达的花儿英文版：
Little Ida’s Flowers
MY poor flowers are quite dead,” said little Ida, “they were so pretty yesterday evening, and now all the leaves are hanging down quite withered. What do they do that for,” she asked, of the student who sat on the sofa; she liked him very much, he could tell the most amusing stories, and cut out the prettiest pictures; hearts, and ladies dancing, castles with doors that opened, as well as flowers; he was a delightful student. “Why do the flowers look so faded to-day?” she asked again, and pointed to her nosegay, which was quite withered.
“Don’t you know what is the matter with them?” said the student. “The flowers were at a ball last night, and therefore, it is no wonder they hang their heads.”
“But flowers cannot dance?” cried little Ida.
“Yes indeed, they can,” replied the student. “When it grows dark, and everybody is asleep, they jump about quite merrily. They have a ball almost every night.”
“Can children go to these balls?”
“Yes,” said the student, “little daisies and lilies of the valley.”
“Where do the beautiful flowers dance?” asked little Ida.
“Have you not often seen the large castle outside the gates of the town, where the king lives in summer, and where the beautiful garden is full of flowers? And have you not fed the swans with bread when they swam towards you? Well, the flowers have capital balls there, believe me.”
“I was in the garden out there yesterday with my mother,” said Ida, “but all the leaves were off the trees, and there was not a single flower left. Where are they? I used to see so many in the summer.”
“They are in the castle,” replied the student. “You must know that as soon as the king and all the court are gone into the town, the flowers run out of the garden into the castle, and you should see how merry they are. The two most beautiful roses seat themselves on the throne, and are called the king and queen, then all the red cockscombs range themselves on each side, and bow, these are the lords-in-waiting. After that the pretty flowers come in, and there is a grand ball. The blue violets represent little naval cadets, and dance with hyacinths and crocuses which they call young ladies. The tulips and tiger-lilies are the old ladies who sit and watch the dancing, so that everything may be conducted with order and propriety.”
“But,” said little Ida, “is there no one there to hurt the flowers for dancing in the king’s castle?”
“No one knows anything about it,” said the student. “The old steward of the castle, who has to watch there at night, sometimes comes in; but he carries a great bunch of keys, and as soon as the flowers hear the keys rattle, they run and hide themselves behind the long curtains, and stand quite still, just peeping their heads out. Then the old steward says, ‘I smell flowers here,’ but he cannot see them.”
“Oh how capital,” said little Ida, clapping her hands. “Should I be able to see these flowers?”
“Yes,” said the student, “mind you think of it the next time you go out, no doubt you will see them, if you peep through the window. I did so to-day, and I saw a long yellow lily lying stretched out on the sofa. She was a court lady.”
“Can the flowers from the Botanical Gardens go to these balls?” asked Ida. “It is such a distance!”
“Oh yes,” said the student “whenever they like, for they can fly. Have you not seen those beautiful red, white. and yellow butterflies, that look like flowers? They were flowers once. They have flown off their stalks into the air, and flap their leaves as if they were little wings to make them fly. Then, if they behave well, they obtain permission to fly about during the day, instead of being obliged to sit still on their stems at home, and so in time their leaves become real wings. It may be, however, that the flowers in the Botanical Gardens have never been to the king’s palace, and, therefore, they know nothing of the merry doings at night, which take place there. I will tell you what to do, and the botanical professor, who lives close by here, will be so surprised. You know him very well, do you not? Well, next time you go into his garden, you must tell one of the flowers that there is going to be a grand ball at the castle, then that flower will tell all the others, and they will fly away to the castle as soon as possible. And when the professor walks into his garden, there will not be a single flower left. How he will wonder what has become of them!”
“But how can one flower tell another? Flowers cannot speak?”
“No, certainly not,” replied the student; “but they can make signs. Have you not often seen that when the wind blows they nod at one another, and rustle all their green leaves?”
“Can the professor understand the signs?” asked Ida.
“Yes, to be sure he can. He went one morning into his garden, and saw a stinging nettle making signs with its leaves to a beautiful red carnation. It was saying, ‘You are so pretty, I like you very much.’ But the professor did not approve of such nonsense, so he clapped his hands on the nettle to stop it. Then the leaves, which are its fingers, stung him so sharply that he has never ventured to touch a nettle since.”
“Oh how funny!” said Ida, and she laughed.
“How can anyone put such notions into a child’s head?” said a tiresome lawyer, who had come to pay a visit, and sat on the sofa. He did not like the student, and would grumble when he saw him cutting out droll or amusing pictures. Sometimes it would be a man hanging on a gibbet and holding a heart in his hand as if he had been stealing hearts. Sometimes it was an old witch riding through the air on a broom and carrying her husband on her nose. But the lawyer did not like such jokes, and he would say as he had just said, “How can anyone put such nonsense into a child’s head! what absurd fancies there are!”
But to little Ida, all these stories which the student told her about the flowers, seemed very droll, and she thought over them a great deal. The flowers did hang their heads, because they had been dancing all night, and were very tired, and most likely they were ill. Then she took them into the room where a number of toys lay on a pretty little table, and the whole of the table drawer besides was full of beautiful things. Her doll Sophy lay in the doll’s bed asleep, and little Ida said to her, “You must really get up Sophy, and be content to lie in the drawer to-night; the poor flowers are ill, and they must lie in your bed, then perhaps they will get well again.” So she took the doll out, who looked quite cross, and said not a single word, for she was angry at being turned out of her bed. Ida placed the flowers in the doll’s bed, and drew the quilt over them. Then she told them to lie quite still and be good, while she made some tea for them, so that they might be quite well and able to get up the next morning. And she drew the curtains close round the little bed, so that the sun might not shine in their eyes. During the whole evening she could not help thinking of what the student had told her. And before she went to bed herself, she was obliged to peep behind the curtains into the garden where all her mother’s beautiful flowers grew, hyacinths and tulips, and many others. Then she whispered to them quite softly, “I know you are going to a ball to-night.” But the flowers appeared as if they did not understand, and not a leaf moved; still Ida felt quite sure she knew all about it. She lay awake a long time after she was in bed, thinking how pretty it must be to see all the beautiful flowers dancing in the king’s garden. “I wonder if my flowers have really been there,” she said to herself, and then she fell asleep. In the night she awoke; she had been dreaming of the flowers and of the student, as well as of the tiresome lawyer who found fault with him. It was quite still in Ida’s bedroom; the night-lamp burnt on the table, and her father and mother were asleep. “I wonder if my flowers are still lying in Sophy’s bed,” she thought to herself; “how much I should like to know.” She raised herself a little, and glanced at the door of the room where all her flowers and playthings lay; it was partly open, and as she listened, it seemed as if some one in the room was playing the piano, but softly and more prettily than she had ever before heard it. “Now all the flowers are certainly dancing in there,” she thought, “oh how much I should like to see them,” but she did not dare move for fear of disturbing her father and mother. “If they would only come in here,” she thought; but they did not come, and the music continued to play so beautifully, and was so pretty, that she could resist no longer. She crept out of her little bed, went softly to the door and looked into the room. Oh what a splendid sight there was to be sure! There was no night-lamp burning, but the room appeared quite light, for the moon shone through the window upon the floor, and made it almost like day. All the hyacinths and tulips stood in two long rows down the room, not a single flower remained in the window, and the flower-pots were all empty. The flowers were dancing gracefully on the floor, making turns and holding each other by their long green leaves as they swung round. At the piano sat a large yellow lily which little Ida was sure she had seen in the summer, for she remembered the student saying she was very much like Miss Lina, one of Ida’s friends. They all laughed at him then, but now it seemed to little Ida as if the tall, yellow flower was really like the young lady. She had just the same manners while playing, bending her long yellow face from side to side, and nodding in time to the beautiful music. Then she saw a large purple crocus jump into the middle of the table where the playthings stood, go up to the doll’s bedstead and draw back the curtains; there lay the sick flowers, but they got up directly, and nodded to the others as a sign that they wished to dance with them. The old rough doll, with the broken mouth, stood up and bowed to the pretty flowers. They did not look ill at all now, but jumped about and were very merry, yet none of them noticed little Ida. Presently it seemed as if something fell from the table. Ida looked that way, and saw a slight carnival rod jumping down among the flowers as if it belonged to them; it was, however, very smooth and neat, and a little wax doll with a broad brimmed hat on her head, like the one worn by the lawyer, sat upon it. The carnival rod hopped about among the flowers on its three red stilted feet, and stamped quite loud when it danced the Mazurka; the flowers could not perform this dance, they were too light to stamp in that manner. All at once the wax doll which rode on the carnival rod seemed to grow larger and taller, and it turned round and said to the paper flowers, “How can you put such things in a child’s head? they are all foolish fancies;” and then the doll was exactly like the lawyer with the broad brimmed hat, and looked as yellow and as cross as he did; but the paper dolls struck him on his thin legs, and he shrunk up again and became quite a little wax doll. This was very amusing, and Ida could not help laughing. The carnival rod went on dancing, and the lawyer was obliged to dance also. It was no use, he might make himself great and tall, or remain a little wax doll with a large black hat; still he must dance. Then at last the other flowers interceded for him, especially those who had lain in the doll’s bed, and the carnival rod gave up his dancing. At the same moment a loud knocking was heard in the drawer, where Ida’s doll Sophy lay with many other toys. Then the rough doll ran to the end of the table, laid himself flat down upon it, and began to pull the drawer out a little way.
Then Sophy raised himself, and looked round quite astonished, “There must be a ball here to-night,” said Sophy. “Why did not somebody tell me?”
“Will you dance with me?” said the rough doll.
“You are the right sort to dance with, certainly,” said she, turning her back upon him.
Then she seated herself on the edge of the drawer, and thought that perhaps one of the flowers would ask her to dance; but none of them came. Then she coughed, “Hem, hem, a-hem;” but for all that not one came. The shabby doll now danced quite alone, and not very badly, after all. As none of the flowers seemed to notice Sophy, she let herself down from the drawer to the floor, so as to make a very great noise. All the flowers came round her directly, and asked if she had hurt herself, especially those who had lain in her bed. But she was not hurt at all, and Ida’s flowers thanked her for the use of the nice bed, and were very kind to her. They led her into the middle of the room, where the moon shone, and danced with her, while all the other flowers formed a circle round them. Then Sophy was very happy, and said they might keep her bed; she did not mind lying in the drawer at all. But the flowers thanked her very much, and said,—
“We cannot live long. To-morrow morning we shall be quite dead; and you must tell little Ida to bury us in the garden, near to the grave of the canary; then, in the summer we shall wake up and be more beautiful than ever.”
“No, you must not die,” said Sophy, as she kissed the flowers.
Then the door of the room opened, and a number of beautiful flowers danced in. Ida could not imagine where they could come from, unless they were the flowers from the king’s garden. First came two lovely roses, with little golden crowns on their heads; these were the king and queen. Beautiful stocks and carnations followed, bowing to every one present. They had also music with them. Large poppies and peonies had pea-shells for instruments, and blew into them till they were quite red in the face. The bunches of blue hyacinths and the little white snowdrops jingled their bell-like flowers, as if they were real bells. Then came many more flowers: blue violets, purple heart’s-ease, daisies, and lilies of the valley, and they all danced together, and kissed each other. It was very beautiful to behold.
At last the flowers wished each other good-night. Then little Ida crept back into her bed again, and dreamt of all she had seen. When she arose the next morning, she went quickly to the little table, to see if the flowers were still there. She drew aside the curtains of the little bed. There they all lay, but quite faded; much more so than the day before. Sophy was lying in the drawer where Ida had placed her; but she looked very sleepy.
“Do you remember what the flowers told you to say to me?” said little Ida. But Sophy looked quite stupid, and said not a single word.
“You are not kind at all,” said Ida; “and yet they all danced with you.”
Then she took a little paper box, on which were painted beautiful birds, and laid the dead flowers in it.
“This shall be your pretty coffin,” she said; “and by and by, when my cousins come to visit me, they shall help me to bury you out in the garden; so that next summer you may grow up again more beautiful than ever.”
Her cousins were two good-tempered boys, whose names were James and Adolphus. Their father had given them each a bow and arrow, and they had brought them to show Ida. She told them about the poor flowers which were dead; and as soon as they obtained permission, they went with her to bury them. The two boys walked first, with their crossbows on their shoulders, and little Ida followed, carrying the pretty box containing the dead flowers. They dug a little grave in the garden. Ida kissed her flowers and then laid them, with the box, in the earth. James and Adolphus then fired their crossbows over the grave, as they had neither guns nor cannons.