round one another, puffed out their chests mightily, and had their own
private views and opinions.

"Do you see that pouter pigeon?" said one to the other. "Do you
see how she swallows the peas? She eats too many, and the best ones
too. Curoo! Curoo! How she lifts her crest, the ugly, spiteful
creature! Curoo! Curoo!" And the eyes of all sparkled with malice.
"Stand in groups! Stand in groups! Little grey ones, little grey ones!
Curoo, curoo, curoo!"

So their chatter ran on, and so it will run on for thousands of
years. The sparrows ate lustily; they listened attentively, and even
stood in the ranks with the others, but it did not suit them at all.
They were full, and so they left the pigeons, exchanging opinions
about them, slipped in under the garden palings, and when they found
the door leading into the house open, one of them, who was more than
full, and therefore felt brave, hopped on to the threshold. "Peep!"
said he; "I may venture that."

"Peep!" said the other; "so may I, and something more too!" and he
hopped into the room. No one was there; the third sparrow, seeing
this, flew still farther into the room, exclaiming, "All or nothing!
It is a curious man's nest all the same; and what have they put up
here? What is it?"

Close to the sparrows the roses were blooming; they were reflected
in the water, and the charred beams leaned against the overhanging
chimney. "Do tell me what this is. How comes this in a room at the
Hall?" And all three sparrows wanted to fly over the roses and the
chimney, but flew against a flat wall. It was all a picture, a great
splendid picture, which the artist had painted from a sketch.

"Peep!" said the sparrows, "it's nothing. It only looks like
something. Peep! that is 'the beautiful.' Do you understand it? I
don't."

And they flew away, for some people came into the room.

Days and years went by. The pigeons had often cooed, not to say
growled--the spiteful creatures; the sparrows had been frozen in
winter and had lived merrily in summer: they were all betrothed, or
married, or whatever you like to call it. They had little ones, and of
course each one thought his own the handsomest and cleverest; one flew
this way, another that, and when they met they recognised each other
by their "Peep!" and the three scrapes with the left foot. The
eldest had remained an old maid and had no nest nor young ones. It was
her pet idea to see a great city, so she flew to Copenhagen.

Ther