“Where do you come from? and what do you know?” asked the mice， who were full ofcuriosity. “Have you seen the most beautiful places in the world， and can you tell us all aboutthem? and have you been in the storeroom， where cheeses lie on the shelf， and hams hangfrom the ceiling? One can run about on tallow candles there， and go in thin and come outfat.”
“I know nothing of that place，” said the fir-tree， “but I know the wood where the sunshines and the birds sing.” And then the tree told the little mice all about its youth. They hadnever heard such an account in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively， theysaid， “What a number of things you have seen? you must have been very happy.”
“Happy!” exclaimed the fir-tree， and then as he reflected upon what he had been tellingthem， he said， “Ah， yes! after all those were happy days.” But when he went on andrelated all about Christmas-eve， and how he had been dressed up with cakes and lights， themice said， “How happy you must have been， you old fir-tree.”
“I am not old at all，” replied the tree， “I only came from the forest this winter， I am nowchecked in my growth.”
“What splendid stories you can relate，” said the little mice. And the next night four othermice came with them to hear what the tree had to tell. The more he talked the more heremembered， and then he thought to himself， “Those were happy days， but they may comeagain. Humpty Dumpty fell down stairs， and yet he married the princess; perhaps I maymarry a princess too.” And the fir-tree thought of the pretty little birch-tree that GREw in theforest， which was to him a real beautiful princess.
“Who is Humpty Dumpty?” asked the little mice. And then the tree related the wholestory; he could remember every single word， and the little mice was so delighted with it， thatthey were ready to jump to the top of the tree. The next night a GREat many more mice madetheir appearance， and on Sunday two rats came with them; but they said， it was not apretty story at all， and the little mice were very sorry， for it made them also think less of it.
“Do you know only one story?” asked the rats.
“Only one，” replied the fir-tree; “I heard it on the happiest evening of my life; but I didnot know I was so happy at the time.”
“We think it is a very miserable story，” said the rats. “Don't you know any story aboutbacon， or tallow in the storeroom.”
“No，” replied the tree.
“Many thanks to you then，” replied the rats， and they marched off.
the little mice also kept away after this， and the tree sighed， and said， “It was verypleasant when the merry little mice sat round me and listened while I talked. Now that is allpassed too. However， I shall consider myself happy when some one comes to take me out ofthis place.” But would this ever happen? Yes; one morning people came to clear out thegarret， the boxes were packed away， and the tree was pulled out of the corner， and thrownroughly on the garret floor; then the servant dragged it out upon the staircase where thedaylight shone. “Now life is beginning again，” said the tree， rejoicing in the sunshine and freshair. Then it was carried down stairs and taken into the courtyard so quickly， that it forgot tothink of itself， and could only look about， there was so much to be seen. The court was closeto a garden， where everything looked blooming. Fresh and fragrant roses hung over thelittle palings. The linden-trees were in blossom; while the swallows flew here and there，crying， “Twit， twit， twit， my mate is coming，”—
but it was not the fir-tree they meant. “Now I shall live，” cried the tree， joyfully spreadingout its branches; but alas! they were all withered and yellow， and it lay in a corner amongstweeds and nettles. The star of gold paper still stuck in the top of the tree and glittered in thesunshine. In the same courtyard two of the merry children were playing who had danced roundthe tree at Christmas， and had been so happy. The youngest saw the gilded star， and ranand pulled it off the tree. “Look what is sticking to the ugly old fir-tree，” said the child，treading on the branches till they crackled under his boots.
And the tree saw all the fresh bright flowers in the garden， and then looked at itself， andwished it had remained in the dark corner of the garret. It thought of its fresh youth in theforest， of the merry Christmas evening， and of the little mice who had listened to the story of“Humpty Dumpty.” “Past! past!” said the old tree; “Oh， had I but enjoyed myself while Icould have done so! but now it is too late.” Then a lad came and chopped the tree into smallpieces， till a large bundle lay in a heap on the ground. The pieces were placed in a fire underthe copper， and they quickly blazed up brightly， while the tree sighed so deeply that eachsigh was like a pistol-shot.
then the children， who were at play， came and seated themselves in front of the fire，and looked at it and cried， “Pop， pop.” But at each “pop，” which was a deep sigh， the treewas thinking of a summer day in the forest; and of Christmas evening， and of “HumptyDumpty，” the only story it had ever heard or knew how to relate， till at last it was consumed.The boys still played in the garden， and the youngest wore the golden star on his breast，with which the tree had been adorned during the happiest evening of its existence. Now all waspast; the tree's life was past， and the story also，—for all stories must come to an end atlast.