THE CONCEITED APPLE-BRANCH

                                  1872

                 FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

                       THE CONCEITED APPLE-BRANCH

                       by Hans Christian Andersen



IT was the month of May. The wind still blew cold; but from bush

and tree, field and flower, came the welcome sound, "Spring is

come." Wild-flowers in profusion covered the hedges. Under the

little apple-tree, Spring seemed busy, and told his tale from one of

the branches which hung fresh and blooming, and covered with

delicate pink blossoms that were just ready to open. The branch well

knew how beautiful it was; this knowledge exists as much in the leaf

as in the blood; I was therefore not surprised when a nobleman's

carriage, in which sat the young countess, stopped in the road just

by. She said that an apple-branch was a most lovely object, and an

emblem of spring in its most charming aspect. Then the branch was

broken off for her, and she held it in her delicate hand, and

sheltered it with her silk parasol. Then they drove to the castle,

in which were lofty halls and splendid drawing-rooms. Pure white

curtains fluttered before the open windows, and beautiful flowers

stood in shining, transparent vases; and in one of them, which

looked as if it had been cut out of newly fallen snow, the

apple-branch was placed, among some fresh, light twigs of beech. It

was a charming sight. Then the branch became proud, which was very

much like human nature.

People of every description entered the room, and, according to

their position in society, so dared they to express their

admiration. Some few said nothing, others expressed too much, and

the apple-branch very soon got to understand that there was as much

difference in the characters of human beings as in those of plants and

flowers. Some are all for pomp and parade, others have a great deal to

do to maintain their own importance, while the rest might be spared

without much loss to society. So thought the apple-branch, as he stood

before the open window, from which he could see out over gardens and

fields, where there were flowers and plants enough for him to think

and reflect upon; some rich and beautiful, some poor and humble

indeed.

"Poor, despised herbs," said the apple-branch; "there is really

a difference between them and such as I am. How unhappy they must

be, if they can feel as those in my position do! There is a difference

indeed, and so there ought to be, or we should all be equals."

And the apple-branch looked with a sort of pity upon them,

especially on a certain little flower that is found in fields and in

ditches. No one bound these flowers together in a nosegay; they were

too common; they were even known to grow between the paving-stones,

shooting up everywhere, like bad weeds; and they bore the very ugly

name of "dog-flowers" or "dandelions."

"Poor, despised plants," said the apple-bough, "it is not your

fault that you are so ugly, and that you have such an ugly name; but

it is with plants as with men,- there must be a difference."

"A difference!" cried the sunbeam, as he kissed the blooming

apple-branch, and then kissed the yellow dandelion out in the

fields. All were brothers, and the sunbeam kissed them- the poor

flowers as well as the rich.

The apple-bough had never thought of the boundless love of God,

which extends over all the works of creation, over everything which

lives, and moves, and has its being in Him; he had never thought of

the good and beautiful which are so often hidden, but can never remain

forgotten by Him,- not only among the lower creation, but also among

men. The sunbeam, the ray of light, knew better.

"You do not see very far, nor very clearly," he said to the

apple-branch. "Which is the despised plant you so specially pity?"

"The dandelion," he replied. "No one ever places it in a

nosegay; it is often trodden under foot, there are so many of them;

and when they run to seed, they have flowers like wool, which fly away

in little pieces over the roads, and cling to the dresses of the

people. They are only weeds; but of course there must be weeds. O, I

am really very thankful that I was not made like one of these

flowers."

There came presently across the fields a whole group of

children, the youngest of whom was so small that it had to be

carried by the others; and when he was seated on the grass, among

the yellow flowers, he laughed aloud with joy, kicked out his little

legs, rolled about, plucked the yellow flowers, and kissed them in

childlike innocence. The elder children broke off the flowers with

long stems, bent the stalks one round the other, to form links, and

made first a chain for the neck, then one to go across the

shoulders, and hang down to the waist, and at last a wreath to wear

round the head, so that they looked quite splendid in their garlands

of green stems and golden flowers. But the eldest among them

gathered carefully the faded flowers, on the stem of which was grouped

together the seed, in the form of a white feathery coronal. These

loose, airy wool-flowers are very beautiful, and look like fine

snowy feathers or down. The children held them to their mouths, and

tried to blow away the whole coronal with one puff of the breath. They

had been told by their grandmothers that who ever did so would be sure

to have new clothes before the end of the year. The despised flower

was by this raised to the position of a prophet or foreteller of

events.

"Do you see," said the sunbeam, "do you see the beauty of these

flowers? do you see their powers of giving pleasure?"

"Yes, to children," said the apple-bough.

By-and-by an old woman came into the field, and, with a blunt

knife without a handle, began to dig round the roots of some of the

dandelion-plants, and pull them up. With some of these she intended to

make tea for herself; but the rest she was going to sell to the

chemist, and obtain some money.

"But beauty is of higher value than all this," said the apple-tree

branch; "only the chosen ones can be admitted into the realms of the

beautiful. There is a difference between plants, just as there is a

difference between men."

Then the sunbeam spoke of the boundless love of God, as seen in

creation, and over all that lives, and of the equal distribution of

His gifts, both in time and in eternity.

"That is your opinion," said the apple-bough.

Then some people came into the room, and, among them, the young

countess,- the lady who had placed the apple-bough in the

transparent vase, so pleasantly beneath the rays of the sunlight.

She carried in her hand something that seemed like a flower. The

object was hidden by two or three great leaves, which covered it

like a shield, so that no draught or gust of wind could injure it, and

it was carried more carefully than the apple-branch had ever been.

Very cautiously the large leaves were removed, and there appeared

the feathery seed-crown of the despised dandelion. This was what the

lady had so carefully plucked, and carried home so safely covered,

so that not one of the delicate feathery arrows of which its mist-like

shape was so lightly formed, should flutter away. She now drew it

forth quite uninjured, and wondered at its beautiful form, and airy

lightness, and singular construction, so soon to be blown away by

the wind.

"See," she exclaimed, "how wonderfully God has made this little

flower. I will paint it with the apple-branch together. Every one

admires the beauty of the apple-bough; but this humble flower has been

endowed by Heaven with another kind of loveliness; and although they

differ in appearance, both are the children of the realms of beauty."

Then the sunbeam kissed the lowly flower, and he kissed the

blooming apple-branch, upon whose leaves appeared a rosy blush.

                        THE END

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