126 GRANDMOTHER.

as they never dream afterwards. All parents are glad to have
such a child, and ail children want to have a sister or a brother.
Now we will fly to the pond, and bring one for each of the chil-
dren who have not sung the naughty song and laughed at the
storks.”

“ But hewho began to sing—that naughty, ugly boy !” screamed
the young Storks ; “ what shall we do with him?”

“There is a little dead child in the pond, one that has dreamed
itself to death ; we will bring that for him. Then he will cry be-
cause we have brought him a little dead brother. But that good
boy—you have not forgotten him, the one who said, ‘It is wrong
to laugh at animals!’ for him we will bring a brother and a sister
too. And as his name is Peter, all of you shall be called Peter
too.” ,

And it was done as she said; all the storks were named Peter,
and so they are all called even now.

GRANDMOTHER.

RANDMOTHER is very old; she has many wrinkles,
and her hair is quite white; but her eyes, which are like
two stars, and even more beautiful, look at you mildly

and pleasantly, and it does you good to look into them. And then

she can tell the most wonderful stories ; and she has a gown with
great flowers worked in it, and it is of heavy silk, and it rustles.

Grandmother knows a great deal, for she was alive before father

and mother, that’s quite certain! Grandmother has a hymn-

book with great silver clasps, and she often reads in that book;
in the middle of the book lies a rose, quite flat and dry; it is not
as pretty as the roses she has standing in the glass, and yet she
smiles at it most pleasantly of all, and tears even come into her
eyes. I wonder why Grandmother looks at the withered flower in
the old book in that way? Do you know? Why, each time that
Grandmother's tears fall upon the rose, its colours become fresh
again; the rose swells and fills the whole roonrgwith its fragrance ;
the walls sink as if they were but mist, and all around her is the
glorious green wood, where in summer the sunlight streams
through the leaves of the trees; and Grandmother—why, she is
young again, a charming maid with light curls and full blooming
cheeks, pretty and graceful, fresh as any rose; but the eyes, the

mild blessed eyes, they have been left to Grandmother. At her

side sits 2 young man, tall and strong: he gives the rose to her,