評(píng)論
打印
“Well， every one flies in his own fashion，” said the papa stork. “The swans fly in an oblique line； the cranes， in the form of a triangle； and the plovers， in a curved line like a snake.”
“Don't talk about snakes while we are flying up here，” said stork-mamma. “It puts ideas into the children's heads that can not be realized.”
“Are those the high mountains I have heard spoken of？” asked Helga， in the swan's plumage.
“they are storm-clouds driving along beneath us，” replied her mother.
“What are yonder white clouds that rise so high？” again inquired Helga.
“Those are mountains covered with perpetual snows， that you see yonder，” said her mother. And then they flew across the Alps towards the blue Mediterranean.
“Africa's land！ Egyptia's strand！” sang the daughter of the Nile， in her swan's plumage， as from the upper air she caught sight of her native land， a narrow， golden， wavy strip on the shores of the Nile； the other birds espied it also and hastened their flight.
“I can smell the Nile mud and the wet frogs，” said the stork-mamma， “and I begin to feel quite hungry. Yes， now you shall taste something nice， and you will see the marabout bird， and the ibis， and the crane. They all belong to our family， but they are not nearly so handsome as we are. They give themselves GREat airs， especially the ibis. The Egyptians have spoilt him. They make a mummy of him， and stuff him with spices. I would rather be stuffed with live frogs， and so would you， and so you shall. Better have something in your inside while you are alive， than to be made a parade of after you are dead. That is my opinion， and I am always right.”
“the storks are come，” was said in the GREat house on the banks of the Nile， where the lord lay in the hall on his downy cushions， covered with a leopard skin， scarcely alive， yet not dead， waiting and hoping for the lotus-flower from the deep moorland in the far north. Relatives and servants were standing by his couch， when the two beautiful swans who had come with the storks flew into the hall. They threw off their soft white plumage， and two lovely female forms approached the pale， sick old man， and threw back their long hair， and when Helga bent over her grandfather， redness came back to his cheeks， his eyes brightened， and life returned to his benumbed limbs. The old man rose up with health and energy renewed； daughter and grandchild welcomed him as joyfully as if with a morning greeting after a long and troubled dream.
Joy reigned through the whole house， as well as in the stork's nest； although there the chief cause was really the good food， especially the quantities of frogs， which seemed to spring out of the ground in swarms.
then the learned men hastened to note down， in flying characters， the story of the two princesses， and spoke of the arrival of the health-giving flower as a mighty event， which had been a blessing to the house and the land. Meanwhile， the stork-papa told the story to his family in his own way； but not till they had eaten and were satisfied； otherwise they would have had something else to do than to listen to stories.
“Well，” said the stork-mamma， when she had heard it， “you will be made something of at last； I suppose they can do nothing less.”
“What could I be made？” said stork-papa； “what have I done？— just nothing.”
“You have done more than all the rest，” she replied. “But for you and the youngsters the two young princesses would never have seen Egypt again， and the recovery of the old man would not have been effected. You will become something. They must certainly give you a doctor's hood， and our young ones will inherit it， and their children after them， and so on. You already look like an Egyptian doctor， at least in my eyes.”
“I cannot quite remember the words I heard when I listened on the roof，” said stork-papa， while relating the story to his family； “all I know is， that what the wise men said was so complicated and so learned， that they received not only rank， but presents； even the head cook at the GREat house was honored with a mark of distinction， most likely for the soup.”
“And what did you receive？” said the stork-mamma. “They certainly ought not to forget the most important person in the affair， as you really are. The learned men have done nothing at all but use their tongues. Surely they will not overlook you.”
Late in the night， while the gentle sleep of peace rested on the now happy house， there was still one watcher. It was not stork-papa， who， although he stood on guard on one leg， could sleep soundly. Helga alone was awake. She leaned over the balcony， gazing at the sparkling stars that shone clearer and brighter in the pure air than they had done in the north， and yet they were the same stars. She thought of the Viking's wife in the wild moorland， of the gentle eyes of her foster-mother， and of the tears she had shed over the poor frog-child that now lived in splendor and starry beauty by the waters of the Nile， with air balmy and sweet as spring. She thought of the love that dwelt in the breast of the heathen woman， love that had been shown to a wretched creature， hateful as a human being， and hideous when in the form of an animal. She looked at the glittering stars， and thought of the radiance that had shone forth on the forehead of the dead man， as she had fled with him over the woodland and moor. Tones were awakened in her memory； words which she had heard him speak as they rode onward， when she was carried， wondering and trembling， through the air； words from the GREat Fountain of love， the highest love that embraces all the human race. What had not been won and achieved by this love？
Day and night beautiful Helga was absorbed in the contemplation of the GREat amount of her happiness， and lost herself in the contemplation， like a child who turns hurriedly from the giver to examine the beautiful gifts. She was over-powered with her good fortune， which seemed always increasing， and therefore what might it become in the future？ Had she not been brought by a wonderful miracle to all this joy and happiness？ And in these thoughts she indulged， until at last she thought no more of the Giver. It was the over-abundance of youthful spirits unfolding its wings for a daring flight. Her eyes sparkled with energy， when suddenly arose a loud noise in the court below， and the daring thought vanished. She looked down， and saw two large ostriches running round quickly in narrow circles； she had never seen these creatures before，—great， coarse， clumsy-looking birds with curious wings that looked as if they had been clipped， and the birds themselves had the appearance of having been roughly used. She inquired about them， and for the first time heard the legend which the Egyptians relate respecting the ostrich.
Once， say they， the ostriches were a beautiful and glorious race of birds， with large， strong wings. One evening the other large birds of the forest said to the ostrich， “Brother， shall we fly to the river to-morrow morning to drink， God willing？” and the ostrich answered， “I will.”
With the break of day， therefore， they commenced their flight； first rising high in the air， towards the sun， which is the eye of God； still higher and higher the ostrich flew， far above the other birds， proudly approaching the light， trusting in its own strength， and thinking not of the Giver， or saying， “if God will.” When suddenly the avenging angel drew back the veil from the flaming ocean of sunlight， and in a moment the wings of the proud bird were scorched and shrivelled， and they sunk miserably to the earth. Since that time the ostrich and his race have never been able to rise in the air； they can only fly terror-stricken along the ground， or run round and round in narrow circles. It is a warning to mankind， that in all our thoughts and schemes， and in every action we undertake， we should say， “if God will.”
