The Sand-Hills of Jutland

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Hans Christian Andersen. The Sand-Hills of Jutland

The Sand-hills of Jutland

The Mud-king's Daughter

The Quickest Runners

The Bell's Hollow

Soup made of a Sausage-stick

I

II. WHAT THE FIRST LITTLE MOUSE HAD SEEN AND LEARNT ON HER JOURNEY

III. WHAT THE SECOND MOUSE HAD TO RELATE

IV. WHAT THE FOURTH MOUSE – WHO SPOKE BEFORE THE THIRD ONE HAD SPOKEN – HAD TO RELATE

V. HOW THE SOUP WAS MADE

The Neck of a Bottle

The Old Bachelor's Nightcap

Something

The Old Oak Tree's Last Dream

The Wind relates the Story of Waldemar Daae and his Daughters

The Girl who Trod upon Bread

Olé, the Watchman of the Tower

THE FIRST VISIT

THE SECOND VISIT

Anne Lisbeth; or, The Apparition of the Beach

Children's Prattle

A Row of Pearls

I

II

The Pen and the Inkstand

The Child in the Grave

Charming

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This is a story from the Jutland sand-hills, but it does not commence there; on the contrary, it commences far away towards the south, in Spain. The sea is the highway between the two countries. Fancy yourself there. The scenery is beautiful; the climate is warm. There blooms the scarlet pomegranate amidst the dark laurel trees; from the hills a refreshing breeze is wafted over the orange groves and the magnificent Moorish halls, with their gilded cupolas and their painted walls. Processions of children parade the streets with lights and waving banners; and, above these, clear and lofty rises the vault of heaven, studded with glittering stars. Songs and castanets are heard; youths and girls mingle in the dance under the blossoming acacias; whilst beggars sit upon the sculptured blocks of marble, and refresh themselves with the juicy water-melon. Life dozes here: it is all like a charming dream, and one indulges in it. Yes, thus did two young newly-married persons, who also possessed all the best gifts of earth – health, good humour, riches, and rank.

"Nothing could possibly exceed our happiness," they said in the fulness of their joyful hearts; yet there was one degree of still higher happiness to which they might attain, and that would be when God blessed them with a child – a son, to resemble them in features and in disposition.

.....

"Father, allow me," he cried, and his eye glanced over Morten and over the waves; but just then every oar was raised for the great struggle, and as the first enormous billow came, he observed his father's pale suffering countenance, and he could not carry out the wicked design that had suggested itself to his mind. The boat got safely over the reefs, and in to the land; but Jörgen's evil thoughts remained, and his blood boiled at every little disagreeable act that started up in his recollection from the time that he and Morten had been comrades, and his anger increased as he remembered each offence. Morten had supplanted him, he felt assured of that; and that was enough to make him hateful to him. A few of the fishermen remarked his scowling looks at Morten, but Morten himself did not; he was, just as usual, ready to give every assistance, and very talkative – a little too much of the latter, perhaps.

Jörgen's foster-father was obliged to keep his bed; he became worse, and died within a week; and Jörgen inherited the house behind the sand-hills – a humble habitation to be sure, but it was always something. Morten had not so much.

.....