ade of marble--some few of plaster, but this is the same thing to a
sparrow. Upon the roof stood a metal chariot and horses, and the goddess
of victory, also of metal, was seated in the chariot driving the horses.

It was Thorwaldsen's museum. "How it shines and glitters," said the
maiden sparrow. "This must be _the beautiful_,--tweet,--only this is
larger than a peacock." She remembered what her mother had told them in
her childhood, that the peacock was one of the greatest examples of _the
beautiful_. She flew down into the courtyard, where everything also was
very grand. The walls were painted to represent palm branches, and in
the midst of the court stood a large, blooming rose tree, spreading its
young, sweet, rose-covered branches over a grave. Thither the maiden
sparrow flew, for she saw many others of her own kind.

"Tweet," said she, drawing back her foot three times. She had, during
the years that had passed, often made the usual greeting to the sparrows
she met, but without receiving any acknowledgment; for friends who are
once separated do not meet every day. This manner of greeting was become
a habit to her, and to-day two old sparrows and a young one returned the
greeting.

"Tweet," they replied and drew back the left foot three times. They were
two old sparrows out of the nest, and a young one belonging to the
family. "Ah, good day; how do you do? To think of our meeting here! This
is a very grand place, but there is not much to eat; this is _the
beautiful_. Tweet!"

A great many people now came out of the side rooms, in which the marble
statues stood, and approached the grave where rested the remains of the
great master who carved them. As they stood round Thorwaldsen's grave,
each face had a reflected glory, and some few gathered up the fallen
rose leaves to preserve them. They had all come from afar; one from
mighty England, others from Germany and France. One very handsome lady
plucked a rose and concealed it in her bosom. Then the sparrows thought
that the roses ruled in this place, and that the whole house had been
built for them--which seemed really too much honor; but as all the
people showed their love for the roses, the sparrows thought they would
not remain behindhand in paying their respects.

"Tweet," they said, and swept the ground with their tails, and glanced
with one eye at the roses. They had not looked at them very long,
however, before they felt convinced that they were old acquain