安徒生童话之亚麻汇总

安徒生童话之亚麻篇一
&nbsh1;   “people say that i look exceedingly well，” saidthe flax， “and that i am so    fine and long that i shall make a beautiful piece of linen. howfortunate i am;    it makes me so happy， it is such a pleasant thing to know that somethingcan be    made of me. how the sunshine cheers me， and how sweet and refreshing is the    rain;my happiness overpowers me， no one in the world can feel happier than i    am.”
    “ah， yes， no doubt，” said the fern， “but you do not know the world yet as    well as ido， for my sticks are knotty;” and then it sung quite mournfully—
    “snip， snap， snurre，basse lurre：the song is ended.”
    “no， it is not ended，” said the flax. “to-morrow the sun will shine， or the    rain descend.i feel that i am growing. i feel that i am in full blossom. i am    the happiest of all creatures.”
    well， one day some people came， who took hold of the flax， and pulled it up    by theroots; this was painful; then it was laid in water as if they intended to    drown it; and， afterthat， placed near a fire as if it were to be roasted; all    this was very shocking. “we cannotexpect to be happy always，” said the flax; “by    experiencing evil as well as good， we becomewise.” and certainly there was    plenty of evil in store for the flax. it was steeped， androasted， and broken，    and combed; indeed， it scarcely knew what was done to it. at last itwas put on    the spinning wheel. “whirr， whirr，” went the wheel so quickly that the flax    couldnot collect its thoughts. “well， i have been very happy，” he thought in the    midst of hispain， “and must be contented with the past;” and contented he    remained till he was put onthe loom， and became a beautiful piece of white    linen. all the flax， even to the last stalk，was used in making this one piece.    “well， this is quite wonderful; i could not have believedthat i should be so    favored by fortune. the fern was not wrong with its song of
    “snip， snap， snurre，basse lurre.”
    but the song is not ended yet， i am sure; it is only just beginning. how    wonderful it is，that after all i have suffered， i am made something of at last;    i am the luckiest person in theworld—so strong and fine; and how white， and what    a length! this is something different tobeing a mere plant and bearing flowers.    then i had no attention， nor any water unless itrained; now， i am watched and    taken care of. every morning the maid turns me over， and ihave a shower-bath    from the watering-pot every evening. yes， and the clergyman"s wifenoticed me，    and said i was the best piece of linen in the whole parish. i cannot be    happierthan i am now.“
    after some time， the linen was taken into the house， placed under the    scissors， andcut and torn into pieces， and then pricked with needles. this    certainly was not pleasant; butat last it was made into twelve garments of that    kind which people do not like to name， andyet everybody should wear one. “see，    now， then，” said the flax; “i have becomesomething of importance. this was my    destiny; it is quite a blessing. now i shall be of someuse in the world， as    everyone ought to be; it is the only way to be happy. i am now dividedinto    twelve pieces， and yet we are all one and the same in the whole dozen. it is    mostextraordinary good fortune.”
    years passed away， and at last the linen was so worn it could scarcely hold    together. “itmust end very soon，” said the pieces to each other; “we would    gladly have held together alittle longer， but it is useless to expect    impossibilities.” and at length they fell into rags andtatters， and thought it    was all over with them， for they were torn to shreds， and steeped inwater， and    made into a pulp， and dried， and they knew not what besides， till all at    oncethey found themselves beautiful white paper. “well， now， this is a surprise;    a glorioussurprise too，” said the paper. “i am now finer than ever， and i shall    be written upon， andwho can tell what fine things i may have written upon me.    this is wonderful luck!” and sureenough the most beautiful stories and poetry    were written upon it， and only once was there ablot， which was very fortunate.    then people heard the stories and poetry read， and it madethem wiser and better;    for all that was written had a good and sensible meaning， and agreat blessing    was contained in the words on this paper.
    “i never imagined anything like this，” said thepaper， “when i was only a    little blue flower，growing in the fields. how could i fancy that i shouldever be    the means of bringing knowledge and joy toman? i cannot understand it myself，    and yet it isreally so. heaven knows that i have done nothingmyself， but what i    was obliged to do with my weakpowers for my own preservation; and yet i havebeen    promoted from one joy and honor to    time i think that the song is    ended; and thensomething higher and better begins for me. isuppose now i shall    be sent on my travels about the world， so that people may read me. itcannot be    otherwise; indeed， it is more than probable; for i have more splendid    thoughtswritten upon me， than i had pretty flowers in olden times. i am happier    than ever.”
    but the paper did not go on its travels; it was sent to the printer， and    all the wordswritten upon it were set up in type， to make a book， or rather，    many hundreds of books;for so many more persons could derive pleasure and profit    from a printed book， than fromthe written paper; and if the paper had been sent    around the world， it would have been wornout before it had got half through its    journey.
    “this is certainly the wisest plan，” said the written paper; “i really did    not think of that. ishall remain at home， and be held in honor， like some old    grandfather， as i really am to allthese new books. they will do some good. i    could not have wandered about as they do. yet hewho wrote all this has looked at    me， as every word flowed from his pen upon my surface. i amthe most honored of    all.”
    then the paper was tied in a bundle with other papers， and thrown into a    tub that stood inthe washhouse.
    “after work， it is well to rest，” said the paper， “and a very good    opportunity to collectone"s thoughts. now i am able， for the first time， to    think of my real condition; and to knowone"s self is true progress. what will be    done with me now， i wonder? no doubt i shall stillgo forward. i have always    progressed hitherto， as i know quite well.”
    now it happened one day that all the paper in the tub was taken out， and    laid on thehearth to be burnt. people said it could not be sold at the shop， to    wrap up butter andsugar， because it had been written upon. the children in the    house stood round the stove;for they wanted to see the paper burn， because it    flamed up so prettily， and afterwards，among the ashes， so many red sparks could    be seen running one after the other， here andthere， as quick as the wind. they    called it seeing the children come out of school， and the lastspark was the    schoolmaster. they often thought the last spark had come; and one wouldcry，    “there goes the schoolmaster;” but the next moment another spark would    appear，shining so beautifully. how they would like to know where the sparks all    went to! perhaps weshall find out some day， but we don"t know now.
    the whole bundle of paper had been placed on the fire， and was soon alight.    “ugh，” criedthe paper， as it burst into a bright flame; “ugh.” it was certainly    not very pleasant to beburning; but when the whole was wrapped in flames， the    flames mounted up into the air，higher than the flax had ever been able to raise    its little blue flower， and they glistened as thewhite linen never could have    glistened. all the written letters became quite red in a moment，and all the    words and thoughts turned to fire.
    “now i am mounting straight up to the sun，” said a voice in the flames; and    it was as if athousand voices echoed the words; and the flames darted up through    the chimney， andwent out at the top. then a number of tiny beings， as many in    number as the flowers on theflax had been， and invisible to mortal eyes， floated    above them. they were even lighter andmore delicate than the flowers from which    they were born; and as the flames wereextinguished， and nothing remained of the    paper but black ashes， these little beings dancedupon it; and whenever they    touched it， bright red sparks appeared.
    “the children are all out of school， and the schoolmaster was the last of    all，” said thechildren. it was good fun， and they sang over the dead ashes，—
    “snip， snap， snurre，basse lure：the song is ended.”
    but the little invisible