he can make a story out of anything. "They peep over his
shoulder," as he once wrote to me, a long time ago. And one time, when
he was just going to set off on a journey, his friend said to him, "My
little Erich possesses two leaden soldiers, and he has given one of
them to me for you, that you may take it with you on your travels."

Now I should not at all wonder if this were the very "Resolute Leaden
Soldier" you read of in the "**Tales From Denmark**;" but this one, it
is true, was a Turk, and I don't think the other was. And then, too,
there is nothing said about this one having but one leg. However, it
may be the same, after all.

As to the tale called "The Naughty Boy," that, it is true, is an old
story. The poet Anacreon wrote it long, long ago; but Andersen has
here re-told it in so humorous a manner, that it will no doubt amuse
you as much as though it had been written originally by him. He has
given the whole, too, quite another dress; and "the naughty boy"
himself he has tricked out so drolly, and related such amusing tricks
of him, that I think Mr. Andersen had better take care the young rogue
does not play him a sly turn some day or other, for the little
incorrigible rascal respects nobody.

Before I say farewell, there is one thing I must tell you; which is,
there are two persons you certainly little think of, to whom you owe
some thanks for the pretty tales of Anderson that have so greatly
delighted you, as well as for those he may still write. You will never
guess who they are, so I will tell you. They are Frederick VI., the
late, and Christian VIII., the present King of Denmark. The former
gave Andersen a pension to relieve him from the necessity of depending
on his pen for bread; so that, free from cares, he was able to pursue
his own varied fancies. Though not much, it was sufficient; but the
present king, who has always been most kind to your friend
Andersen--for so you surely consider him--increased his pension
considerably, in order that, he might be able to travel, and follow in
full liberty the bent of his genius.

Now do you not like a king who thus holds out his hand to genius, who
delights to honor the man who has done honor to their common country,
and who is proud to interest himself in his fate as in that of a
friend? And this King Christian VIII. does. Am I not right, then, in
saying that you owe him your thanks?

Farewell, my little friends, and believe that I am always ready and
wi