Page 563 - Child's own book

warm sun-beams fell on her cheeks, she used to think of their
kisses.
One day was just as monotonous as another* If the wind
rustled through the large hedges of the rose-bushes, he would
whisper to tbe roses : “ Who can be more beautiful than
you?” But the roses would shake their heads, and answer:
w Elise.” And if the old woman sat before the door, on a
Sunday, reading her psalm-book, the wind would turn over the
leaves, and say to the book : u Who can be more pious than
thou ? ” And then the psalm-book would answer : Elise.'1
And both the roses and the psalm-book spoke the pure truth,
When she was fifteen, she was to return home. But
when the queen saw how beautiful she was, her heart was
filled with hatred and spite. She would willingly have
turned her into a wild swan, like her brothers, but she dared
not do it just yet, because the king wished to see his daughter.
So the wicked queen rubbed the princess with walnut-juice
till she was quite brown, and besmeared her face with rancid
ointment, and tangled her magnificent hair, tili it was im­
possible to recognise the beautiful Elise.
When her father saw her he was quite frightened, and de­
clared she was not his daughter. Nobody but the watch-dog
and the swallows would recognise her — only they were poor
animals, and could not speak a word.
Poor Elise then cried, and thought of her eleven brothers,
who were all away. And she stole out of the palace, in greai
affliction, and walked the whole day long across fields and
marshes, till she reached the large forest. She knew not whither
she was going, but she felt so sad, and she longed to see her
brothers, whom she felt certain had been driven out into the
world like herself and she determined to seek till she found
them.