Stories for the household (1889) (14566102259)

Identifier: storiesforhouseh00ande (find matches)

Title: Stories for the household

Year: 1889 (1880s)

Authors: Andersen, H. C. (Hans Christian), 1805-1875 Dulcken, H. W. (Henry William), 1832-1894 Bayes, Alfred Walter, 1832-1909, ill

Subjects: Fairy tales

Publisher: London : G. Routledge and Sons

Text Appearing Before Image:

own valley and themountains of his home; but he was not discouraged. When the sunrose next morning his good humour already stood high, for it hadnever set. Babette is at Interlakeu, many days journey from here, he said tohimself. It is a long way thither if a man travels along the broadhigh road, but it is not so far if one takes the short cut across themountains, and the chamois hunters path is straight forward. Ive beenthat way already: yonder is my early home, where I lived as a child ingrandfathers house, and theres a shooting match at Interlaken. Illbe there too, and be the best shot; and Ill be with Babette too, whenonce I have made her acquaintance. AVith a light knapsack containing his Sunday clothes on his back,and his gun and hunting bag across his shoulder, Rudy mounted thehill by the short cut, which was, nevertheless, tolerably long ; but theshooting match had only begun that clay, and was to last a week ormore; and they had told him that the miller and Babette would pass

Text Appearing After Image:

The Ice Maiden. G65 the whole time with their friends at Interlaken. Rudy inarched acrossthe Gemrni, intending to descend at Grindelwald. Fresh and merry, he walked on in the strengthening light mountainair. The valley sank deeper and deeper behind him, and his horizonbecame more and more extended ; here a snowy peak appeared, and the™another, and presently the whole gleaming white chain of the Alpscould be seen. Eudy knew every peak, and he made straight towardsthe Schreckhorn, that raised its white-powdered, stony fingers up intothe blue air. At last he had crossed the ridge. The grassy pastures bent down to-wards the valley of his old home. The air was light and his spirits werelight. Mountain and valley bloomed fair with verdure and with flowers,and his heart was filled with the feeling of youth, that recks not ofcoining age or of death. To live, to conquer, to enjoy, free as a bird!—and light as a bird he felt. And the swallows flew past him, and sang, asthey had sang in his

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1889

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