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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES


Obvious spelling, typographical and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the
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  WONDERFUL STORIES
  FOR CHILDREN.

  BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN,
  AUTHOR OF "THE IMPROVISATORE," ETC.

  TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH BY MARY HOWITT.

  NEW YORK.
  WILEY & PUTNAM,
  161 Broadway.

  1846.




CONTENTS.


                                                     PAGE

  OLE LUCKOIE--THE STORY-TELLER AT NIGHT                5

  THE DAISY                                            28

  THE NAUGHTY BOY                                      37

  TOMMELISE                                            42

  THE ROSE-ELF                                         64

  THE GARDEN OF PARADISE                               74

  A NIGHT IN THE KITCHEN                              102

  LITTLE IDA'S FLOWERS                                108

  THE CONSTANT TIN SOLDIER                            124

  THE STORKS                                          133




OLE LUCKOIE, (SHUT-EYE.)


There is nobody in all this world who knows so many tales as Ole
Luckoie! He can tell tales! In an evening, when a child sits so nicely
at the table, or on its little stool, Ole Luckoie comes. He comes
so quietly into the house, for he walks without shoes; he opens the
door without making any noise, and then he flirts sweet milk into the
children's eyes; but so gently, so very gently, that they cannot keep
their eyes open, and, therefore, they never see him; he steals softly
behind them and blows gently on their necks, and thus their heads
become heavy. Oh yes! But then it does them no harm; for Ole Luckoie
means nothing but kindness to the children, he only wants to amuse
them; and the best thing that can be done is for somebody to carry them
to bed, where they may lie still and listen to the tales that he will
tell them.

Now when the children are asleep, Ole Luckoie sits down on the bed;
he is very well dressed; his coat is of silk, but it is not possible
to tell what color it is, because it shines green, and red, and blue,
just as if one color ran into another. He holds an umbrella under each
arm; one of them is covered all over the inside with pictures, and
this he sets over the good child, and it dreams all night long the
most beautiful histories. The other umbrella has nothing at all within
it; this he sets over the heads of naughty children, and they sleep so
heavily, that next morning when they wake they have not dreamed the
least in the world.

Now we will hear how Ole Luckoie came every evening for a whole week to
a little boy, whose name was Yalmar, and what he told him. There are
seven stories, because there are seven days in a week.


MONDAY.

"Just listen!" said Ole Luckoie, in the evening, when they had put
Yalmar in bed; "now I shall make things fine!"--and with that all the
plants in the flower-pots grew up into great trees which stretched
out their long branches along the ceiling and the walls, till the
whole room looked like the most beautiful summer-house; and all the
branches were full of flowers, and every flower was more beautiful than
a rose, and was so sweet, that if anybody smelt at it, it was sweeter
than raspberry jam! The fruit on the trees shone like gold, and great
big bunches of raisins hung down--never had any thing been seen like
it!--but all at once there began such a dismal lamentation in the
table-drawer where Yalmar kept his school-books.

"What is that?" said Ole Luckoie, and went to the table and opened
the drawer. It was the slate that was in great trouble; for there was
an addition sum on it that was added up wrong, and the slate-pencil
was hopping and jumping about in its string, like a little dog that
wanted to help the sum, but it could not! And besides this, Yalmar's
copy-book was crying out sadly! All the way down each page stood a
row of great letters, each with a little one by its side; these were
the copy; and then there stood other letters, which fancied that they
looked like the copy; and these Yalmar had written; but they were
some one way and some another, just as if they were tumbling over the
pencil-lines on which they ought to have stood.

"Look, you should hold yourselves up--thus!" said the copy; "thus, all
in a line, with a brisk air!"

"Oh! we would so gladly, if we could," said