the story of the wind-第3部分

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them　all。　She　could　relate　the　history。　Yonder；　on　the　heath；　near　the

town　of　Wiborg；　in　Jutland；　stood　the　fine　new　house　of　the　canon。　It

was　built　of　red　brick；　with　projecting　gables。　It　was　inhabited；　for

the　smoke　curled　up　thickly　from　the　chimneys。　The　canon's　gentle　lady

and　her　beautiful　daughters　sat　in　the　bay…window；　and　looked　over　the

hawthorn　hedge　of　the　garden　towards　the　brown　heath。　What　were　they

looking　at？　Their　glances　fell　upon　a　stork's　nest；　which　was　built

upon　an　old　tumbledown　hut。　The　roof；　as　far　as　one　existed　at　all；

was　covered　with　moss　and　lichen。　The　stork's　nest　covered　the　greater

part　of　it；　and　that　alone　was　in　a　good　condition；　for　it　was　kept　in

order　by　the　stork　himself。　That　is　a　house　to　be　looked　at；　and　not

to　be　touched；〃　said　the　Wind。　〃For　the　sake　of　the　stork's　nest　it

had　been　allowed　to　remain；　although　it　is　a　blot　on　the　landscape。

They　did　not　like　to　drive　the　stork　away；　therefore　the　old　shed　was

left　standing；　and　the　poor　woman　who　dwelt　in　it　allowed　to　stay。　She

had　the　Egyptian　bird　to　thank　for　that；　or　was　it　perchance　her

reward　for　having　once　interceded　for　the　preservation　of　the　nest　of

its　black　brother　in　the　forest　of　Borreby？　At　that　time　she；　the

poor　woman；　was　a　young　child；　a　white　hyacinth　in　a　rich　garden。　She

remembered　that　time　well；　for　it　was　Anna　Dorothea。

　　　　〃'O…h；　o…h；'　she　sighed；　for　people　can　sigh　like　the　moaning　of

the　wind　among　the　reeds　and　rushes。　'O…h；　o…h；'　she　would　say；　'no

bell　sounded　at　thy　burial；　Waldemar　Daa。　The　poor　school…boys　did　not

even　sing　a　psalm　when　the　former　lord　of　Borreby　was　laid　in　the

earth　to　rest。　O…h；　everything　has　an　end；　even　misery。　Sister　Ida

became　the　wife　of　a　peasant；　that　was　the　hardest　trial　which

befell　our　father；　that　the　husband　of　his　own　daughter　should　be　a

miserable　serf；　whom　his　owner　could　place　for　punishment　on　the

wooden　horse。　I　suppose　he　is　under　the　ground　now；　and　Ida…　alas！

alas！　it　is　not　ended　yet；　miserable　that　I　am！　Kind　Heaven；　grant

me　that　I　may　die。'

　　　　〃That　was　Anna　Dorothea's　prayer　in　the　wretched　hut　that　was　left

standing　for　the　sake　of　the　stork。　I　took　pity　on　the　proudest　of　the

sisters；〃　said　the　Wind。　〃Her　courage　was　like　that　of　a　man；　and　in

man's　clothes　she　served　as　a　sailor　on　board　ship。　She　was　of　few

words；　and　of　a　dark　countenance；　but　she　did　not　know　how　to　climb；

so　I　blew　her　overboard　before　any　one　found　out　that　she　was　a　woman；

and；　in　my　opinion；　that　was　well　done；〃　said　the　Wind。

　　　　On　such　another　Easter　morning　as　that　on　which　Waldemar　Daa

imagined　he　had　discovered　the　art　of　making　gold；　I　heard　the　tones

of　a　psalm　under　the　stork's　nest；　and　within　the　crumbling　walls。

It　was　Anna　Dorothea's　last　song。　There　was　no　window　in　the　hut；　only

a　hole　in　the　wall；　and　the　sun　rose　like　a　globe　of　burnished　gold；

and　looked　through。　With　what　splendor　he　filled　that　dismal　dwelling！

Her　eyes　were　glazing；　and　her　heart　breaking；　but　so　it　would　have

been；　even　had　the　sun　not　shone　that　morning　on　Anna　Dorothea。　The

stork's　nest　had　secured　her　a　home　till　her　death。　I　sung　over　her

grave；　I　sung　at　her　father's　grave。　I　know　where　it　lies；　and　where

her　grave　is　too；　but　nobody　else　knows　it。

　　　　〃New　times　now；　all　is　changed。　The　old　high…road　is　lost　amid

cultivated　fields；　the　new　one　now　winds　along　over　covered　graves；

and　soon　the　railway　will　come；　with　its　train　of　carriages；　and

rush　over　graves　where　lie　those　whose　very　names　are　forgoten。　All

passed　away；　passed　away！

　　　　〃This　is　the　story　of　Waldemar　Daa　and　his　daughters。　Tell　it

better；　any　of　you；　if　you　know　how；〃　said　the　Wind；　and　he　rushed

away；　and　was　gone。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　END

。