But I suppose you heardwhat was said? I heard it with my own ears, and one has to hear agreat deal before they fall off. There is one among the fowls whohas so far forgotten what is becoming to a hen that she plucks out allher feathers and lets the cock see it."
  "Prenez garde aux enfants!" said father owl; "children shouldnot hear such things."
  "But I must tell our neighbour owl about it; she is such anestimable owl to talk to." And with that she flew away.
  "Too-whoo! Too-whoo!" they both hooted into the neighbour'sdove-cot to the doves inside. "Have you heard? Have you heard?Too-whoo! There is a hen who has plucked out all her feathers forthe sake of the cock; she will freeze to death, if she is not frozenalready. Too-whoo!"
  "Where? where?" cooed the doves.
  "In the neighbour's yard. I have as good as seen it myself. Itis almost unbecoming to tell the story, but there is no doubt aboutit."
  "Believe every word of what we tell you," said the doves, andcooed down into their poultry-yard. "There is a hen- nay, some saythat there are two- who have plucked out all their feathers, inorder not to look like the others, and to attract the attention of thecock. It is a dangerous game, for one can easily catch cold and diefrom fever, and both of these are dead already."
  "Wake up! wake up!" crowed the cock, and flew upon his board.Sleep was still in his eyes, but yet he crowed out: "Three hens havedied of their unfortunate love for a cock. They had plucked out alltheir feathers. It is a horrible story: I will not keep it tomyself, but let it go farther."
  "Let it go farther," shrieked the bats, and the hens clucked andthe cocks crowed, "Let it go farther! Let it go farther!" In thisway the story travelled from poultry-yard to poultry-yard, and at lastcame back to the place from which it had really started.
  "Five hens," it now ran, "have plucked out all their feathers toshow which of them had grown leanest for love of the cock, and thenthey all pecked at each other till the blood ran down and they felldown dead, to the derision and shame of their family, and to the greatloss of their owner."
  The hen who had lost the loose little feather naturally did notrecognise her own story, and being a respectable hen, said: "I despisethose fowls; but there are more of that kind. Such things ought not tobe concealed, and I will do my best to get the story into thepapers, so that it becomes known throughout the land; the hens haverichly deserved it, and their family too."
  It got into the papers, it was printed; and there is no doubtabout it, one little feather may easily grow into five hens.
  THE END.
  1872
  FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
  TWO BROTHERS
  by Hans Christian Andersen
  ON one of the Danish islands, where old Thingstones, the seatsof justice of our forefathers, still stand in the cornfields, and hugetrees rise in the forests of beech, there lies a little town whose lowhouses are covered with red tiles. In one of these houses strangethings were brewing over the glowing coals on the open hearth; therewas a boiling going on in glasses, and a mixing and distilling,while herbs were being cut up and pounded in mortars. An elderly manlooked after it all.
  "One must only do the right thing," he said; "yes, the right-the correct thing. One must find out the truth concerning everycreated particle, and keep to that."
  In the room with the good housewife sat her two sons; they werestill small, but had great thoughts. Their mother, too, had alwaysspoken to them of right and justice, and exhorted them to keep tothe truth, which she said was the countenance of the Lord in thisworld.
  The elder of the boys looked roguish and enterprising. He took adelight in reading of the forces of nature, of the sun and the moon;no fairy tale pleased him so much. Oh, how beautiful it must be, hethought, to go on voyages of discovery, or to find out how toimitate the wings of birds and then to be able to fly!