"
And then it told all about its youth.
And the little Mice had never heard anything of the kind; and they
listened and said:
"What a number of things you have seen! How happy you must have been!"
"I?" replied the Fir Tree; and it thought about what it had told.
"Yes, those were really quite happy times." But then he told of the
Christmas Eve, when he had been hung with sweetmeats and candles.
"Oh!" said the little Mice, "how happy you have been, you old Fir
Tree!"
"I'm not old at all," said the Tree. "I only came out of the wood this
winter. I'm only rather backward in my growth."
"What splendid stories you can tell!" said the little Mice.
And next night they came with four other little Mice, to hear what
the Tree had to relate; and the more it said, the more clearly did it
remember everything, and thought, "Those were quite merry days! But
they may come again. Klumpey-Dumpey fell downstairs and yet he married
the Princess. Perhaps I may marry a Princess too?" And then the
Fir Tree thought of a pretty little Birch Tree that grew out in the
forest: for the Fir Tree, that Birch was a real Princess.
"Who's Klumpey-Dumpey?" asked the little Mice.
And then the Fir Tree told the whole story.
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