stories: my mother likes them to be grand and very proper, but my father likes them to be merry, so that he can laugh at them."
"Well, a story will be my only wedding-gift!" he said, and then they separated: but the princess gave him a sword encrusted with gold. It was the kind of present he needed badly.
He flew away and bought himself a new dressing-gown, and sat down in the wood to make up a new story; it had to be ready by Saturday, and it is not always so easy to make up a story.
However, he had it ready in time, and Saturday came.
The king, the queen and the whole court were waiting for him round the princess's tea-table. He had a charming reception.
"Now will you tell us a story," said the Queen, "one which is both thoughtful and instructive."
"But one that we can laugh at too," said the King.
"All right!" said he, and then he began. We must listen to his story attentively.
"There was once a bundle of matches, and they were frightfully proud because of their high origin. Their family tree, that is to say the great pine tree of which they were each a little splinter, had been the giant of the forest. The matches now lay on a shelf between a tinderbox and an old iron pot, and they told the whole story of their youth to these two. 'Ah, when we were a living tree,' said they, 'we were indeed a green branch! Every morning and every evening we had diamond-tea, that was the dew-drops. In the day we had the sunshine, and all the little birds to tell us stories. We could see, too, that we were very rich, for most of the other trees were only clad in summer, but our family could afford to have green clothes both summer and winter. But then the wood-cutters came, and there was a great revolution, and our family was sundered. The head of the tribe got a place
