STORY-TELLING 



5580 



STORY-TELLING 



The Little Match Girl 



It was on a bitterly cold, snowy New Year's 

 Eve. A little girl was wandering in the dark, 

 cold streets ; she was bareheaded and barefooted. 

 She had certainly worn slippers when she left 

 home, but they were not much good, for they 

 were so huge. They had last been worn by her 

 mother, and they fell off the child's feet when 

 she was running across the street to avoid some 

 carriages that were rolling by. One of the shoes 

 could not be found at all; and the other was 

 picked up by a boy who fan off with it, saying 

 that it would do for a cradle when he had chil- 

 dren of his own. So the poor little girl had to 

 go on with her little bare feet, which were red 

 and blue with cold. 



She carried a quantity of matches in her 

 apron, and she held a packet of them in her hand. 

 Nobody had bought any of her during all the 



HER LITTLE HANDS WERE STIFF WITH 

 COLD 



long day ; nobody had given her a penny. The 

 poor little creature was hungry and perishing 

 with cold, and she looked the picture of misery. 

 The snowflakes fell upon her long, yellow hair 

 which curled so prettily about her face, but she 

 paid no attention to that. 



Lights were shining from every window, and 

 there was a most delicious odor of roast goose 

 in the streets, for it was New Year's Eve she 

 could not forget that. She found a corner where 

 one house projected a little beyond the next one, 

 and here she crouched, drawing up her feet 



under her, but she was colder than ever. She 

 did not dare go home, for she had not sold any 

 matches, and had not earned a single penny. 

 Her father would beat her ; besides it was almost 

 as cold at home as it was here. They had only 

 the roof over them, and the wind whistled 

 through it, although they stuffed up the biggest 

 cracks with rags and straw. Her little hands 

 were stiff with cold. 



Oh, one little match would do some good ! 

 Should she pull one out of the bundle and strike 

 it on the wall to warm her fingers? She pulled 

 one out. Critch, how it spluttered, how it 

 blazed ! It burned with a bright, clear flame just 

 like a little candle when she held her hand 

 round it. 



It was a very curious candle, too. In its light 

 the little girl fancied she was sitting in front of 

 a big stove with polished brass feet and han- 

 dles. There was a splendid fire blazing in it and 

 warming her so beautifully, but what hap- 

 pened? just as she was stretching out her feet 

 to warm them, the blaze went out, the stove 

 vanished, and she was left sitting with the end 

 of the burned-out match in her. hand. 



She struck a new one ; it burned, blazed up, 

 and where the light fell upon the wall it became 

 transparent like gauze, and she could see right 

 through it into the room. The table was spread 

 with a snowy cloth and pretty china ; a roast 

 goose stuffed with apples and prunes was steam- 

 ing on it. And what was even better, the goose 

 hopped from the dish with the carving knife 

 sticking in his back, and it waddled across the 

 floor. It came right up to the poor child, and 

 then the match went out, and there was noth- 

 ing left to be seen but the thick black wall. 



Again, she lit another match. This time she 

 was sitting under a lovely Christmas tree. It 

 was much larger and more beautifully decorated 

 than the one she had seen when she peeped 

 through glass doors at the rich merchant's house 

 this very last Christmas. Thousands of lighted 

 candles gleamed upon its branches, and colored 

 pictures such as she had seen in the shop win- 

 dows looked down upon her. The little girl 

 stretched out her hands to touch them, but out 

 went the match. 



All the Christmas candles rose higher and 

 higher, till she saw that they were only the 

 twinkling stars. 



So she struck another match against the wall, 

 and this time it was her grandmother who ap- 

 peared in the circle of the flame. She saw her 

 quite clearly and distinctly, looking so gentle and 

 happy. 



"Grandmother!" cried the little creature, "Oh," 

 do take me with you ! I know you will vanish 

 when the match goes out ; you will vanish like 

 the warm stove, and the goose, and the Christ- 

 mas tree." 



She hastily struck a whole bundle of matches, 

 because she did so long to keep her grandmother 

 with her. The light of the matches made it as 

 bright as day. Grandmother had never before 

 looked so big, nor so beautiful. She lifted the 

 little match girl up in her arms, and they soared 

 in a circle of light and joy, far, far above the 

 earth, where there was no more cold, no hunger, 

 no pain, for they were with God. 



