A whole life drama is unfolding itself before her inward gaze.
  "The poor little children, how happy they are- how merrily theyplay and romp together! What red cheeks and what angels' eyes! butthey have no shoes nor stockings. They dance on the green rampart,just on the place where, according to the old story, the ground alwayssank in, and where a sportive, frolicsome child had been lured bymeans of flowers, toys and sweetmeats into an open grave ready dug forit, and which was afterwards closed over the child; and from thatmoment, the old story says, the ground gave way no longer, the moundremained firm and fast, and was quickly covered with the green turf.The little people who now play on that spot know nothing of the oldtale, else would they fancy they heard a child crying deep below theearth, and the dewdrops on each blade of grass would be to themtears of woe. Nor do they know anything of the Danish King who here,in the face of the coming foe, took an oath before all his tremblingcourtiers that he would hold out with the citizens of his capital, anddie here in his nest; they know nothing of the men who have foughthere, or of the women who from here have drenched with boiling waterthe enemy, clad in white, and 'biding in the snow to surprise thecity.
  "No! the poor little ones are playing with light, childishspirits. Play on, play on, thou little maiden! Soon the years willcome- yes, those glorious years. The priestly hands have been laidon the candidates for confirmation; hand in hand they walk on thegreen rampart. Thou hast a white frock on; it has cost thy mother muchlabor, and yet it is only cut down for thee out of an old largerdress! You will also wear a red shawl; and what if it hang too fardown? People will only see how large, how very large it is. You arethinking of your dress, and of the Giver of all good- so glorious isit to wander on the green rampart!
  "And the years roll by; they have no lack of dark days, but youhave your cheerful young spirit, and you have gained a friend- youknow not how. You met, oh, how often! You walk together on the rampartin the fresh spring, on the high days and holidays, when all the worldcome out to walk upon the ramparts, and all the bells of the churchsteeples seem to be singing a song of praise for the coming spring.
  "Scarcely have the violets come forth, but there on the rampart,just opposite the beautiful Castle of Rosenberg, there is a treebright with the first green buds. Every year this tree sends forthfresh green shoots. Alas! It is not so with the human heart! Darkmists, more in number than those that cover the northern skies,cloud the human heart. Poor child! thy friend's bridal chamber is ablack coffin, and thou becomest an old maid. From the almshousewindow, behind the balsams, thou shalt look on the merry children atplay, and shalt see thine own history renewed."
  And that is the life drama that passes before the old maid whileshe looks out upon the rampart, the green, sunny rampart, where thechildren, with their red cheeks and bare shoeless feet, arerejoicing merrily, like the other free little birds.
  THE END.
  1872
  FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
  CHILDREN'S PRATTLE
  by Hans Christian Andersen
  AT a rich merchant's house there was a children's party, and thechildren of rich and great people were there. The merchant was alearned man, for his father had sent him to college, and he had passedhis examination. His father had been at first only a cattle dealer,but always honest and industrious, so that he had made money, andhis son, the merchant, had managed to increase his store. Clever as hewas, he had also a heart; but there was less said of his heart than ofhis money. All descriptions of people visited at the merchant's house,well born, as well as intellectual, and some who possessed neitherof these recommendations.
  Now it was a children's party, and there was children's prattle,which always is spoken freely from the heart. Among them was abeautiful little girl, who was terribly proud; but this had beentaught her by the servants, and not by her parents, who were far toosensible people.
  Her father was groom of the Chambers, which is a high office atcourt, and she knew it. "I am a child of the court," she said; now shemight just as well have been a child of the cellar, for no one canhelp his birth; and then she told the other children that she waswell-born, and said that no one who was not well-born could rise inthe world. It was no use to read and be industrious, for if a personwas not well-born, he could never achieve anything. "And those whosenames end with 'sen,'" said she, "can never be anything at all. Wemust put our arms akimbo, and make the elbow quite pointed, so as tokeep these 'sen' people at a great distance." And then she stuck outher pretty little arms, and made the elbows quite pointed, to show howit was to be done; and her little arms were very pretty, for she was asweet-looking child.
  But the little daughter of the merchant became very angry atthis speech, for her father's name was Petersen, and she knew that thename ended in "sen," and therefore she said as proudly as she could,"But my papa can buy a hundred dollars' worth of bonbons, and givethem away to children. Can your papa do that?"