wed with the power of falling
into decay from rust when he pleased, he did not make use of it. He
was therefore put into the melting-furnace and changed into as elegant
an iron candlestick as you could wish to see, one intended to hold a
wax taper. The candlestick was in the form of an angel holding a
nosegay, in the centre of which the wax taper was to be placed. It was
to stand on a green writing table, in a very pleasant room; many books
were scattered about, and splendid paintings hung on the walls. The
owner of the room was a poet, and a man of intellect; everything he
thought or wrote was pictured around him. Nature showed herself to him
sometimes in the dark forests, at others in cheerful meadows where the
storks were strutting about, or on the deck of a ship sailing across
the foaming sea with the clear, blue sky above, or at night the
glittering stars. "What powers I possess!" said the lamp, awaking from
his dream; "I could almost wish to be melted down; but no, that must
not be while the old people live. They love me for myself alone,
they keep me bright, and supply me with oil. I am as well off as the
picture of the congress, in which they take so much pleasure." And
from that time he felt at rest in himself, and not more so than such
an honorable old lamp really deserved to be.

OLE-LUK-OIE, THE DREAM-GOD

There is nobody in the world who knows so many stories as
Ole-Luk-Oie, or who can relate them so nicely. In the evening, while
the children are seated at the table or in their little chairs, he
comes up the stairs very softly, for he walks in his socks, then he
opens the doors without the slightest noise, and throws a small
quantity of very fine dust in their eyes, just enough to prevent
them from keeping them open, and so they do not see him. Then he
creeps behind them, and blows softly upon their necks, till their
heads begin to droop. But Ole-Luk-Oie does not wish to hurt them,
for he is very fond of children, and only wants them to be quiet
that he may relate to them pretty stories, and they never are quiet
until they are in bed and asleep. As soon as they are asleep,
Ole-Luk-Oie seats himself upon the bed. He is nicely dressed; his coat
is made of silken stuff; it is impossible to say of what color, for it
changes from green to red, and from red to blue as he turns from
side to side. Under each arm he carries an umbrella; one of them, with
pictures on the inside, he spreads over the good child