Showing results by author "Christian Andersen" in All Categories

Grandmother is so very old; she has so many wrinkles, and her hair is completely white, but her eyes shine just like two stars; yes, yet they are much more beautiful; they are so gentle, so wonderful to look into. And then she knows the most delightful stories, and she has a gown of heavy, rustling silk, with great big flowers in it. Grandmother knows a great deal, for she was alive long before father and mother-that much is certain! She has a hymnbook with heavy clasps of silver, and often reads from it.

We're going to Paris to see the exposition! Now we're there! It was a speedy journey, done completely without witchcraft - we went by steam, in a ship and on a railroad. Our time is indeed a time of fairy tales.

In the narrow, crooked street, among several shabby dwellings, stood a very tall and very narrow house, the framework of which had given so that it was out of joint in every direction. Only poor people lived here, and poorest of all were those who lived in the attic. Outside the small attic window an old, bent bird cage hung in the sunshine; it didn't even have a real bird glass, but had only a bottle neck, upside down, with a cork in its mouth, and filled with water.

This story really consists of two parts. The first part might be left out, but it gives us a few particulars, and these are useful. We were staying in the country at a gentleman's seat, where it happened that the master was absent for a few days. In the meantime, there arrived from the next town a lady; she had a pug dog with her, and came, she said, to dispose of shares in her tan-yard.

Of course, you must know what a microscope is, that round magnifying glass which makes everything look hundreds of times larger than it really is. If you take it and hold it close to your eye and look at a single drop of ditchwater, you'll see thousands of strange little creatures, such as you couldn't imagine living in a drop of water. But they are really there. They look almost like a plateful of shrimp, all jumping and crowding against each other, and they are so ferocious they tear off each other's arm and legs; yet in their own way they are happy and merry.

Once upon a time there was a darning needle who imagined she was so fine that she really was a sewing needle. "Be careful and hold me tightly!" she warned the fingers that picked her up. "Don't drop me! If I fall on the floor you may never find me again; that's how fine I am!" "That's what you think!" replied the fingers, and squeezed her around the waist.

By the high road in the forest lay a lonely peasant's hut; the path to it led right through the farmyard. The sun shone, and all the windows were open, and in the house there seemed a great bustle and movement; but in the garden, in an arbor formed of blooming elder-branches, stood an open coffin. A dead man had been carried out, who on this morning was to be buried. Nobody stood by the coffin looking sorrowfully at the dead; no one shed a tear over him.

Now listen to this! Out in the country, close by the side of the road, there stood a country house; you yourself have certainly seen many just like it. In front of it was a little flower garden, with a painted fence around it. Close by the fence, in the midst of the most beautiful green grass beside a ditch, there grew a little daisy. The sun shone just as warmly and brightly on her as on the beautiful flowers inside the garden, and so she grew every hour. Until at last one morning she was in full bloom, with shining white petals spreading like rays around the little yellow sun in the center.

In the midst of a garden there grew a rose bush, quite covered with roses, and in the most beautiful of them all there lived an elf—an elf so tiny that no mortal eye could see him. But he was as well made and as perfect as any child could be, and he had wings reaching from his shoulders to his feet. Behind each petal of the rose he had a tiny bedroom. Oh, how fragrant his rooms were, and how bright and transparent the walls, for they were the beautiful pale pink petals of the rose!

Once there were two cocks, one on a dunghill and one on the roof, both of them conceited; but which of the two did the most? Tell us what you think - we'll keep our own opinion, anyway. The chicken yard was separated by a board fence from another yard, where there lay a manure heap, and on this grew a great cucumber, which was fully aware of being a forcing-bed plant.

There was sorrow in the house; there was sorrow in every heart, for the youngest child, a four-year-old boy, the joy and future hope of his parents, was dead. They had two older daughters, the eldest of whom was to be confirmed that year; sweet, good girls, they both were; but the child one has lost is always the most precious, and this was not only the youngest but the only son. It was indeed a heavy affliction. The sisters grieved as the young grieve, awed by the sorrow of their parents; the father's head bowed in grief; but most of all the mother suffered.

There was an old mansion surrounded by a marshy ditch with a drawbridge which was but seldom let down: not all guests are good people. Under the roof were loopholes to shoot through, and to pour down boiling water or even molten lead on the enemy, should he approach. Inside the house the rooms were very high and had ceilings of beams, and that was very useful considering the great deal of smoke which rose up from the chimney fire where the large, damp logs of wood smoldered.

The Butterfly (Danish: "Sommerfulgen") is a short fantasy story for children by the Danish author Hans Christian Andersen. It was first published in 1861.
The story's title character and protagonist is a butterfly who wishes to marry a flower. Unfortunately for him, the expectations which he has of his future wife are very high. He decides that none of the flowers that he sees are worthy of being his bride. Consequently, he never marries and ends his days as an old bachelor.

This story with a sad ending tells of a young buckwheat growing in a field that became too proud of its own beauty. The buckwheat, blinded by its pride, did not even listen to the advice of the old willow and refused to bow its head even before the dangerous storm.

It is in the hot countries that the sun burns down in earnest, turning the people there a deep mahogany-brown. In the hottest countries of all they are seared into negroes, but it was not quite that hot in this country to which a man of learning had come from the colder north. He expected to go about there just as he had at home, but he soon discovered that this was a mistake. He and other sensible souls had to stay inside. The shutters were drawn and the doors were closed all day long. It looked just as if everyone were asleep or away from home.

This is a story of the sand dunes of Jutland, but it doesn't begin there; no, it begins far away to the south, in Spain. The ocean is the highway between the two countries. So now let your thoughts journey to Spain!

Yes, that was little Tuck. As a matter of fact, his name wasn't really Tuck, but before he could speak plainly he called himself Tuck. That was supposed to mean "Carl," but "Tuck" does just as well if one only knows it.

In The Nightingale, Hans Christian Andersen weaves a timeless fable of authenticity, beauty, and redemption. Set in an enchanted vision of imperial China, the story follows a humble nightingale whose song captivates the hearts of all who hear it—even the mighty emperor himself. When an ornate artificial bird replaces the real one at court, the soul-stirring power of nature is cast aside in favor of predictable perfection. But when illness and death come for the emperor, only the return of the living nightingale's song can offer healing and hope.

Relive the timeless tale of The Little Mermaid in this classic edition sure to delight young listeners and old. Follow the Little Mermaid as she goes on a journey to discover her humanity and find her soul. The adventures of the young mermaid princess splash life in a story full of belonging, hope, love and sacrifice. This classic tale from Hans Christian Anderson will engage listeners with a whole new world

Snuggle down with this collection of magical Christmas fairy tales from some of your favourite storytellers. These calming stories will have your little one dreaming of talking snowmen, magical trees and a talking cuckoo! Get settled, grab your teddy and lets begin on a magical Christmas adventure!