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Andersen's Fairy Tales
Fairy tales and stories of H.C. Andersen
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Puss in Boots
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The raven
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The shepherd boy
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Fairytales and stories of Hans Christian Andersen
List of fairytales (Page 5)
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081
The last dream of the old oak
In the forest, high up on the steep shore, and not far from the open seacoast, stood a very old oak-tree. It was just three hundred and sixty-five years old, but that long time was to the tree as the same number of days might be to us; we wake by day and sleep by night, and then we have our dreams.
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082
The A-B-C book
Once there was a man who had written some new rhymes for the A-B-C Book - two lines for each letter, just as in the old A-B-C Book. He believed the old rhymes were too antiquated, that something new was needed, and he thought well indeed of his own rhymes.
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083
The marsh king's daughter
The storks relate to their little ones a great many stories, and they are all about moors and reed banks, and suited to their age and capacity. The youngest of them are quite satisfied with kribble, krabble, or such nonsense, and think it very grand; but the elder ones want something with a deeper meaning, or at least something about their own family.
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084
The races
A prize, or rather two prizes, a great one and a small one, had been awarded for the greatest swiftness in running,– not in a single race, but for the whole year. I obtained the first prize, said the hare.
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085
The stone of the wise man
You know the story of Holger Danske, so we won't repeat it, but will ask you if you remember how Holger Danske conquered the great land of India, eastward at the end of the world, to the tree called 'the Tree of the Sun,' as Christen Pedersen says. Do you know Christen Pedersen? It makes no difference if you don't. Holger Danske gave Prester John his power and rule over India.
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086
The wind tells about Valdemar Daae and his daughters
When the wind sweeps over the grass, the blades of grass ripple like the water of a lake; and when it sweeps over the cornfield, the ears of corn curl into waves like those on a lake; this is the dance of the Wind. But listen to him tell the story; he sings it out; and how different his song among the trees of the forest is from his shriek through the cracks, crannies, and crevices of old walls.
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087
The girl who trod on the loaf
There was once a girl who trod on a loaf to avoid soiling her shoes, and the misfortunes that happened to her in consequence are well known. Her name was Inge; she was a poor child, but proud and presuming, and with a bad and cruel disposition. When quite a little child she would delight in catching flies, and tearing off their wings, so as to make creeping things of them.
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088
Ole the tower-keeper
In the world it's always going up and down; and now I can't go up any higher! So said Ole the tower-keeper. Most people have to try both the ups and the downs; and, rightly considered, we all get to be watchmen at last, and look down upon life from a height.
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089
Anne Lisbeth
Anne Lisbeth's complexion was like peaches and cream; her eyes were bright, her teeth shiny white; she was young, gay, and beautiful to look upon; her steps were light and her mind was even lighter. What would come of all this? That awful brat, people said about her baby; and indeed he wasn't pretty, so he was left with the ditchdigger's wife. Anne Lisbeth went into service in the Count's castle.
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090
Children's prattle
There was a large party for children at the house of the merchant; rich people's children and important people's children were all there. Their host, the merchant, was a learned man; his father had insisted that he have a college education. You see, his father had been only a cattle dealer, but he had always been honest and thrifty.
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091
The child in the grave
It was a very sad day, and every heart in the house felt the deepest grief; for the youngest child, a boy of four years old, the joy and hope of his parents, was dead. Two daughters, the elder of whom was going to be confirmed, still remained: they were both good, charming girls; but the lost child always seems the dearest; and when it is youngest, and a son, it makes the trial still more heavy.
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092
Pen and inkstand
In a poet's study, somebody made a remark as he looked at the inkstand that was standing on the table: It's strange what can come out of that inkstand! I wonder what the next thing will be. Yes, it's strange! That it is! said the Inkstand. It's unbelievable, that's what I have always said. The Inkstand was speaking to the Pen and to everything else on the table that could hear it.
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093
The farm-yard cock and the weather-cock
There were two cocks– one on the dung-hill, the other on the roof. They were both arrogant, but which of the two rendered most service? Tell us your opinion– we'll keep to ours just the same though. The poultry yard was divided by some planks from another yard in which there was a dung-hill, and on the dung-hill lay and grew a large cucumber which was conscious of being a hot-bed plant.
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094
"Beautiful"
Alfred the sculptor - yes, you know him, don't you? We all know him; he was awarded the gold medal, traveled to Italy, and came home again. He was young then; in fact, he is still young, though he is ten years older than he was at that time. After he returned home, he visited one of the little provincial towns on the island of Zealand.
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095
A story from the sand dunes
This is a story of the sand dunes of Jutland, but it doesn't begin there; no, it begins far away to the south, in Spain. The ocean is the highway between the two countries. So now let your thoughts journey to Spain! It is warm there, and it is beautiful.
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096
Two brothers
On one of the Danish islands, where old Thingstones, the seats of justice of our forefathers, still stand in the cornfields, and huge trees rise in the forests of beech, there lies a little town whose low houses are covered with red tiles.
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097
Moving day
You surely remember Ole, the tower watchman. I have told you about two visits I paid him, and now I'll tell you of a third, although it won't be the last one.
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098
The butterfly
There was once a butterfly who wished for a bride, and, as may be supposed, he wanted to choose a very pretty one from among the flowers.
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099
The bishop of Börglum and his men
We are up in Jutland, near the wild marsh. We can hear the North Sea, hear it tossing about, for it is quite close by. Before us there rises a great sand dune; we have been looking at it for a long while, and we've been, and still are, driving toward it, very slowly, through the deep sand.
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100
Twelve by the mail
It was very frosty, starry clear weather, quiet and calm. Bump! A pot was thrown against a door. Bang! Fireworks were shot off to welcome the new year, for it was New Year's Eve; and now the clock struck twelve! Trateratra! There came the mail. The big mail coach stopped outside the gate to the town. It carried twelve people and couldn't hold more, for all the seats were taken.
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The most beautiful fairytales of Andersen
The best fairytales →
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