he fields were covered with snow, and the
water filled with large blocks of ice which I had blown up to the
coast," continued the Wind, "great flocks of crows and ravens, dark
and black as they usually are, came and alighted on the lonely,
deserted ship. Then they croaked in harsh accents of the forest that
now existed no more, of the many pretty birds' nests destroyed and the
little ones left without a home; and all for the sake of that great
bit of lumber, that proud ship, that never sailed forth. I made the
snowflakes whirl till the snow lay like a great lake round the ship,
and drifted over it. I let it hear my voice, that it might know what
the storm has to say. Certainly I did my part towards teaching it
seamanship.

"That winter passed away, and another winter and summer both
passed, as they are still passing away, even as I pass away. The
snow drifts onwards, the apple-blossoms are scattered, the leaves
fall,--everything passes away, and men are passing away too. But the
great man's daughters are still young, and little Ida is a rose as
fair to look upon as on the day when the shipbuilder first saw her.
I often tumbled her long, brown hair, while she stood in the garden by
the apple-tree, musing, and not heeding how I strewed the blossoms
on her hair, and dishevelled it; or sometimes, while she stood
gazing at the red sun and the golden sky through the opening
branches of the dark, thick foliage of the garden trees. Her sister
Joanna was bright and slender as a lily; she had a tall and lofty
carriage and figure, though, like her mother, rather stiff in back.
She was very fond of walking through the great hall, where hung the
portraits of her ancestors. The women were represented in dresses of
velvet and silk, with tiny little hats, embroidered with pearls, on
their braided hair. They were all handsome women. The gentlemen
appeared clad in steel, or in rich cloaks lined with squirrel's fur;
they wore little ruffs, and swords at their sides. Where would
Joanna's place be on that wall some day? and how would he look,--her
noble lord and husband? This is what she thought of, and often spoke
of in a low voice to herself. I heard it as I swept into the long
hall, and turned round to come out again. Anna Dorothea, the pale
hyacinth, a child of fourteen, was quiet and thoughtful; her large,
deep, blue eyes had a dreamy look, but a childlike smile still
played round her mouth. I was not able to blow it away, neither did