- nearlyall the shields had changed places. In some places the inscriptionswere so malicious, that grandfather would not speak of them at all;but I saw that he was chuckling secretly, and there may have been someinaccuracy in his description, after all.
  The poor people in the town, and still more the strangers, werecontinually making mistakes in the people they wanted to see; norwas this to be avoided, when they went according to the shields thatwere hung up. Thus, for instance, some who wanted to go to a verygrave assembly of elderly men, where important affairs were to bediscussed, found themselves in a noisy boys' school, where all thecompany were leaping over the chairs and tables.
  There were also people who made a mistake between the church andthe theatre, and that was terrible indeed!
  Such a storm we have never witnessed in our day; for that onlyhappened in grandpapa's time, when he was quite a little boy.Perhaps we shall never experience a storm of the kind, but ourgrandchildren may; and we can only hope and pray that all may stayat home while the storm is moving the shields.
  THE END.
  1872
  FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
  THE STORY OF A MOTHER
  by Hans Christian Andersen
  A MOTHER sat by her little child; she was very sad, for she fearedit would die. It was quite pale, and its little eyes were closed,and sometimes it drew a heavy deep breath, almost like a sigh; andthen the mother gazed more sadly than ever on the poor littlecreature. Some one knocked at the door, and a poor old man walkedin. He was wrapped in something that looked like a greathorse-cloth; and he required it truly to keep him warm, for it wascold winter; the country everywhere lay covered with snow and ice, andthe wind blew so sharply that it cut one's face. The little childhad dozed off to sleep for a moment, and the mother, seeing that theold man shivered with the cold, rose and placed a small mug of beer onthe stove to warm for him. The old man sat and rocked the cradle;and the mother seated herself on a chair near him, and looked at hersick child who still breathed heavily, and took hold of its littlehand.
  "You think I shall keep him, do you not?" she said. "Ourall-merciful God will surely not take him away from me."
  The old man, who was indeed Death himself, nodded his head in apeculiar manner, which might have signified either Yes, or No; and themother cast down her eyes, while the tears rolled down her cheeks.Then her head became heavy, for she had not closed her eyes forthree days and nights, and she slept, but only for a moment. Shiveringwith cold, she started up and looked round the room. The old man wasgone, and her child- it was gone too!- the old man had taken it withhim. In the corner of the room the old clock began to strike;"whirr" went the chains, the heavy weight sank to the ground, andthe clock stopped; and the poor mother rushed out of the house callingfor her child. Out in the snow sat a woman in long black garments, andshe said to the mother, "Death has been with you in your room. I sawhim hastening away with your little child; he strides faster thanthe wind, and never brings back what he has taken away."
  "Only tell me which way he has gone," said the mother; tell me theway, I will find him."
  "I know the way," said the woman in the black garments; "butbefore I tell you, you must sing to me all the songs that you havesung to your child; I love these songs, I have heard them before. I amNight, and I saw your tears flow as you sang."
  "I will sing them all to you," said the mother; "but do not detainme now. I must overtake him, and find my child."
  But Night sat silent and still. Then the mother wept and sang, andwrung her hands. And there were many songs, and yet even more tears;till at length Night said, "Go to the right, into the dark forest offir-trees; for I saw Death take that road with your little child."
  Within the wood the mother came to cross roads, and she knew notwhich to take. Just by stood a thorn-bush; it had neither leaf norflower, for it was the cold winter time, and icicles hung on thebranches. "Have you not seen Death go by, with my little child?"