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The woman who lies here was so remarkably stingy, that during
her life she would get up in the night and mew, that her neighbors
might think she kept a cat. What a miser she was!
Here rests a young lady, of a good family, who would always make
her voice heard in society, and when she sang "Mi manca la voce,"*
it was the only true thing she ever said in her life.
* "I want a voice," or, "I have no voice."
Here lies a maiden of another description. She was engaged to be
married,- but, her story is one of every-day life; we will leave her
to rest in the grave.
* "I want a voice," or, "I have no voice."
Here lies a maiden of another description. She was engaged to be
married,- but, her story is one of every-day life; we will leave her
to rest in the grave.
Here rests a widow, who, with music in her tongue, carried gall in
her heart. She used to go round among the families near, and search
out their faults, upon which she preyed with all the envy and malice
of her nature. This is a family grave. The members of this family held
so firmly together in their opinions, that they would believe in no
other.
This is a family grave. The members of this family held
so firmly together in their opinions, that they would believe in no
other. If the newspapers, or even the whole world, said of a certain
subject, "It is so-and-so;" and a little schoolboy declared he had
learned quite differently, they would take his assertion as the only
true one, because he belonged to the family. And it is well known that
if the yard-cock belonging to this family happened to crow at
midnight, they would declare it was morning, although the watchman and
all the clocks in the town were proclaiming the hour of twelve at
night.
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"Oh what a prize!" she exclaimed, "I hope it is not a drake, for
then I shall have some duck's eggs. I must wait and see." So the
duckling was allowed to remain on trial for three weeks, but there
were no eggs. Now the tom cat was the master of the house, and the hen
was mistress, and they always said, "We and the world," for they
believed themselves to be half the world, and the better half too. The
duckling thought that others might hold a different opinion on the
subject, but the hen would not listen to such doubts.
"Can you lay
eggs?" she asked. "No." "Then have the goodness to hold your
tongue." "Can you raise your back, or purr, or throw out sparks?" said
the tom cat. "No." "Then you have no right to express an opinion
when sensible people are speaking." So the duckling sat in a corner,
feeling very low spirited, till the sunshine and the fresh air came
into the room through the open door, and then he began to feel such
a great longing for a swim on the water, that he could not help
telling the hen.
"What an absurd idea," said the hen. "You have nothing else to do,
therefore you have foolish fancies. If you could purr or lay eggs,
they would pass away."
"But it is so delightful to swim about on the water," said the
duckling, "and so refreshing to feel it close over your head, while
you dive down to the bottom."
"Delightful, indeed!" said the hen, "why you must be crazy! Ask
the cat, he is the cleverest animal I know, ask him how he would
like to swim about on the water, or to dive under it, for I will not
speak of my own opinion; ask our mistress, the old woman- there is
no one in the world more clever than she is.
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The summer and the autumn passed; the rose-tree bore roses and
buds till the snow fell and the weather became raw and wet; then it
bent down its head, and the snail crept into the ground.
A new year began; the roses made their appearance, and the snail
made his too.
"You are an old rose-tree now," said the snail. "You must make
haste and die. You have given the world all that you had in you;
whether it was of much importance is a question that I have not had
time to think about.
But this much is clear and plain, that you have
not done the least for your inner development, or you would have
produced something else. Have you anything to say in defence? You will
now soon be nothing but a stick. Do you understand what I say?"
"You frighten me," said the rose- tree. "I have never thought of
that."
"No, you have never taken the trouble to think at all. Have you
ever given yourself an account why you bloomed, and how your
blooming comes about- why just in that way and in no other?"
"No," said the rose-tree.
Have you
ever given yourself an account why you bloomed, and how your
blooming comes about- why just in that way and in no other?"
"No," said the rose-tree. "I bloom in gladness, because I cannot
do otherwise. The sun shone and warmed me, and the air refreshed me; I
drank the clear dew and the invigorating rain. I breathed and I lived!
Out of the earth there arose a power within me, whilst from above I
also received strength; I felt an ever-renewed and ever-increasing
happiness, and therefore I was obliged to go on blooming.
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