the flax was in full bloom; it had pretty littleblue flowers as delicate as the wings of a moth， oreven more so. The sun shone， and the showerswatered it; and this was just as good for the flaxas it is for little children to be washed and thenkissed by their mother. They look much prettier forit， and so did the flax.
“People say that I look exceedingly well，” saidthe flax， “and that I am so fine and long that I shall make a beautiful piece of linen. Howfortunate I am; it makes me so happy， it is such a pleasant thing to know that somethingcan be made of me. How the sunshine cheers me， and how sweet and refreshing is the rain;my happiness overpowers me， no one in the world can feel happier than I am.”
“Ah， yes， no doubt，” said the fern， “but you do not know the world yet as well as Ido， for my sticks are knotty;” and then it sung quite mournfully—
“Snip， snap， snurre，Basse lurre：the song is ended.”
“No， it is not ended，” said the flax. “To-morrow the sun will shine， or the rain descend.I feel that I am growing. I feel that I am in full blossom. I am the happiest of all creatures.”
Well， one day some people came， who took hold of the flax， and pulled it up by theroots; this was painful; then it was laid in water as if they intended to drown it; and， afterthat， placed near a fire as if it were to be roasted; all this was very shocking. “We cannotexpect to be happy always，” said the flax; “by experiencing evil as well as good， we becomewise.” And certainly there was plenty of evil in store for the flax. It was steeped， androasted， and broken， and combed; indeed， it scarcely knew what was done to it. At last itwas put on the spinning wheel. “Whirr， whirr，” went the wheel so quickly that the flax couldnot collect its thoughts. “Well， I have been very happy，” he thought in the midst of hispain， “and must be contented with the past;” and contented he remained till he was put onthe loom， and became a beautiful piece of white linen. All the flax， even to the last stalk，was used in making this one piece. “Well， this is quite wonderful; I could not have believedthat I should be so favored by fortune. The fern was not wrong with its song of
“Snip， snap， snurre，Basse lurre.”
But the song is not ended yet， I am sure; it is only just beginning. How wonderful it is，that after all I have suffered， I am made something of at last; I am the luckiest person in theworld—so strong and fine; and how white， and what a length! This is something different tobeing a mere plant and bearing flowers. Then I had no attention， nor any water unless itrained; now， I am watched and taken care of. Every morning the maid turns me over， and Ihave a shower-bath from the watering-pot every evening. Yes， and the clergyman's wifenoticed me， and said I was the best piece of linen in the whole parish. I cannot be happierthan I am now.“
After some time， the linen was taken into the house， placed under the scissors， andcut and torn into pieces， and then pricked with needles. This certainly was not pleasant; butat last it was made into twelve garments of that kind which people do not like to name， andyet everybody should wear one. “See， now， then，” said the flax; “I have becomesomething of importance. This was my destiny; it is quite a blessing. Now I shall be of someuse in the world， as everyone ought to be; it is the only way to be happy. I am now dividedinto twelve pieces， and yet we are all one and the same in the whole dozen. It is mostextraordinary good fortune.”
Years passed away， and at last the linen was so worn it could scarcely hold together. “Itmust end very soon，” said the pieces to each other; “we would gladly have held together alittle longer， but it is useless to expect impossibilities.” And at length they fell into rags andtatters， and thought it was all over with them， for they were torn to shreds， and steeped inwater， and made into a pulp， and dried， and they knew not what besides， till all at oncethey found themselves beautiful white paper. “Well， now， this is a surprise; a glorioussurprise too，” said the paper. “I am now finer than ever， and I shall be written upon， andwho can tell what fine things I may have written upon me. This is wonderful luck!” And sureenough the most beautiful stories and poetry were written upon it， and only once was there ablot， which was very fortunate. Then people heard the stories and poetry read， and it madethem wiser and better; for all that was written had a good and sensible meaning， and aGREat blessing was contained in the words on this paper.
“I never imagined anything like this，” said thepaper， “when I was only a little blue flower，growing in the fields. How could I fancy that I shouldever be the means of bringing knowledge and joy toman? I cannot understand it myself， and yet it isreally so. Heaven knows that I have done nothingmyself， but what I was obliged to do with my weakpowers for my own preservation; and yet I havebeen promoted from one joy and honor to another.Each time I think that the song is ended; and thensomething higher and better begins for me. Isuppose now I shall be sent on my travels about the world， so that people may read me. Itcannot be otherwise; indeed， it is more than probable; for I have more splendid thoughtswritten upon me， than I had pretty flowers in olden times. I am happier than ever.”
But the paper did not go on its travels; it was sent to the printer， and all the wordswritten upon it were set up in type， to make a book， or rather， many hundreds of books;for so many more persons could derive pleasure and profit from a printed book， than fromthe written paper; and if the paper had been sent around the world， it would have been wornout before it had got half through its journey.
“This is certainly the wisest plan，” said the written paper; “I really did not think of that. Ishall remain at home， and be held in honor， like some old grandfather， as I really am to allthese new books. They will do some good. I could not have wandered about as they do. Yet hewho wrote all this has looked at me， as every word flowed from his pen upon my surface. I amthe most honored of all.”