HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN This story of the Flax was written by Hans Christian Andersen, the "King of Story Tellers," who lived in Denmark a hundred years ago. He wrote a great many stories which children all over the world love to read. "The Princess and the Pea," and "The Daisy and the Lark," are both very good stories. Almost every one likes "The Fir Tree" very much, but perhaps the best story of all is "The Ugly Duckling." This is a great favorite. There are also several stories about "What the Moon Saw," which are interesting, and some of them are very funny. When Hans was a little boy he lived with his father and mother in the village of Odense, Denmark. They had two little rooms at the top of a house where the father worked as a shoemaker. Hans and his father used to take long walks through the fields and woods where they could hear the birds sing, and could pick wild flowers. His father would often read to him and tell him stories, and this always pleased Hans very much. He liked a good story as well as you do, I have no doubt. Then after they came home Hans would sit with his mother on the roof, and would try to tell the stories to her as his father had told them to him. Very often he went to call on some old ladies in the village, who used to tell him many a pleasant tale. These stories he wrote years afterwards for other children to enjoy. When Hans was eleven years old, his kind father died, and he and his mother were left alone. Now the boy must decide what he would do. "You might learn to be a tailor," suggested his mother. "I would rather learn to write books, Mother." "But you must go to school and we have no money." "I will work hard and God will take care of me," said brave little Hans. So he left his happy childhood home and walked all the way to Copenhagen. There the poor little fellow worked and studied month after month. He lived in a little attic room, so high that he could not see the busy streets, only the roofs and chimneys. But he could look up at the moon and at the stars, and he could think of green fields and sweet woodland places which he had known in his child hood. Sometimes he would tell stories to groups of people on the street, who would give him a few pennies for the entertainment. At last a kind man heard of this boy who told stories so well, and who wanted to learn how to write books. He sent him to school and helped him, until he was old enough to take care of himself. And so Hans did learn to write books, and he became very famous indeed. famous indeed. The people in Denmark were very proud of him and wished to do him great honor. They had a beautiful statue made and placed in the king's garden where children of the city often go to play. every In one hand he holds a book, and with the other he seems to be blessing the children who are romping under the beeches. By his delightful stories, this King of Story Tellers has brought a blessing to many, many children in land. We might say of his life those very words which he made the flax say, "The song is not ended." For as long as there are children in the world who love to read a good story, so long will Hans Christian Andersen be loved and honored. THE LAND OF STORYBOOKS At evening when the lamp is lit, There, in the night, where none can spy, All in my hunter's camp I lie, And play at books that I have read Till it is time to go to bed. These are the hills, these are the woods, The roaring lions come to drink. I see the others far away So, when my nurse comes in for me, From "Poems and Ballads." ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Copyright, 1895, 1896, by Charles Scribner's Sons. |