and how fast the stream rolled on! for therain had been very heavy. The paper boat rocked up and down, andturned itself round sometimes so quickly that the tin soldiertrembled; yet he remained firm; his countenance did not change; helooked straight before him, and shouldered his musket. Suddenly theboat shot under a bridge which formed a part of a drain, and then itwas as dark as the tin soldier's box.
  "Where am I going now?" thought he. "This is the black goblin'sfault, I am sure. Ah, well, if the little lady were only here withme in the boat, I should not care for any darkness."
  Suddenly there appeared a great water-rat, who lived in the drain.
  "Have you a passport?" asked the rat, "give it to me at once." Butthe tin soldier remained silent and held his musket tighter than ever.The boat sailed on and the rat followed it. How he did gnash his teethand cry out to the bits of wood and straw, "Stop him, stop him; he hasnot paid toll, and has not shown his pass." But the stream rushed onstronger and stronger. The tin soldier could already see daylightshining where the arch ended. Then he heard a roaring sound quiteterrible enough to frighten the bravest man. At the end of thetunnel the drain fell into a large canal over a steep place, whichmade it as dangerous for him as a waterfall would be to us. He was tooclose to it to stop, so the boat rushed on, and the poor tin soldiercould only hold himself as stiffly as possible, without moving aneyelid, to show that he was not afraid. The boat whirled round threeor four times, and then filled with water to the very edge; nothingcould save it from sinking. He now stood up to his neck in water,while deeper and deeper sank the boat, and the paper became soft andloose with the wet, till at last the water closed over the soldier'shead. He thought of the elegant little dancer whom he should never seeagain, and the words of the song sounded in his ears-
  "Farewell, warrior! ever brave,
  Drifting onward to thy grave."
  Then the paper boat fell to pieces, and the soldier sank intothe water and immediately afterwards was swallowed up by a great fish.Oh how dark it was inside the fish! A great deal darker than in thetunnel, and narrower too, but the tin soldier continued firm, andlay at full length shouldering his musket. The fish swam to and fro,making the most wonderful movements, but at last he became quitestill. After a while, a flash of lightning seemed to pass through him,and then the daylight approached, and a voice cried out, "I declarehere is the tin soldier." The fish had been caught, taken to themarket and sold to the cook, who took him into the kitchen and cut himopen with a large knife. She picked up the soldier and held him by thewaist between her finger and thumb, and carried him into the room.They were all anxious to see this wonderful soldier who hadtravelled about inside a fish; but he was not at all proud. Theyplaced him on the table, and- how many curious things do happen in theworld!- there he was in the very same room from the window of which hehad fallen, there were the same children, the same playthings,standing on the table, and the pretty castle with the elegant littledancer at the door; she still balanced herself on one leg, and held upthe other, so she was as firm as himself. It touched the tin soldierso much to see her that he almost wept tin tears, but he kept themback. He only looked at her and they both remained silent. Presentlyone of the little boys took up the tin soldier, and threw him into thestove. He had no reason for doing so, therefore it must have beenthe fault of the black goblin who lived in the snuff-box. The flameslighted up the tin soldier, as he stood, the heat was very terrible,but whether it proceeded from the real fire or from the fire of lovehe could not tell. Then he could see that the bright colors were fadedfrom his uniform, but whether they had been washed off during hisjourney or from the effects of his sorrow, no one could say. He lookedat the little lady, and she looked at him. He felt himself meltingaway, but he still remained firm with his gun on his shoulder.Suddenly the door of the room flew open and the draught of aircaught up the little dancer, she fluttered like a sylph right into thestove by the side of the tin soldier, and was instantly in flamesand was gone. The tin soldier melted down into a lump, and the nextmorning, when the maid servant took the ashes out of the stove, shefound him in the shape of a little tin heart. But of the little dancernothing remained but the tinsel rose, which was burnt black as acinder.
  THE END.
  1872
  FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
  THE BUCKWHEAT
  by Hans Christian Andersen
  VERY often, after a violent thunder-storm, a field of buckwheatappears blackened and singed, as if a flame of fire had passed overit. The country people say that this appearance is caused bylightning; but I will tell you what the sparrow says, and thesparrow heard it from an old willow-tree which grew near a field ofbuckwheat, and is there still. It is a large venerable tree, thougha little crippled by age. The trunk has been split, and out of thecrevice grass and brambles grow. The tree bends for-ward slightly, andthe branches hang quite down to the ground just like green hair.Corn grows in the surrounding fields, not only rye and barley, butoats,-pretty oats that, when ripe, look like a number of little goldencanary-birds sitting on a bough. The corn has a smiling look and theheaviest and richest ears bend their heads low as if in pioushumility. Once there was also a field of buckwheat, and this field wasexactly opposite to old willow-tree. The buckwheat did not bend likethe other grain, but erected its head proudly and stiffly on the stem."I am as valuable as any other corn," said he, "and I am muchhandsomer; my flowers are as beautiful as the bloom of the appleblossom, and it is a pleasure to look at us. Do you know of anythingprettier than we are, you old willow-tree?"