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    The Story Without an End
    The Story Without an End
    The Story Without an End
    Ebook62 pages52 minutes

    The Story Without an End

    By Sarah Austin and Eleanor Vere Boyle

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    About this ebook

    In this classic of children's literature, a child takes an idyllic journey of discovery through the natural world. Awakened by birdsong and the rays of the sun, the child listens to stories of the butterfly and the ocean's waves, dines on strawberries, gossips with fireflies, and sleeps on a couch of moss. Generations of readers have joined the youngster in these dreamlike adventures amid blooming gardens and on a golden boat under starry skies.
    Author Sarah Austin translated this timeless tale from the German original by Friedrich Wilhelm Carové. This version, reproduced from a magnificent Victorian-era edition, features all fifteen of the original full-color plates.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDover Publications
    Release dateNov 4, 2015
    ISBN9780486809007
    The Story Without an End

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      Book preview

      The Story Without an End - Sarah Austin

      I.

      THERE was once a Child who lived in a little hut, and in the hut there was nothing but a little bed, and a looking-glass which hung in a dark corner. Now the Child cared nothing at all about the looking-glass, but as soon as the first sunbeam glided softly through the casement and kissed his sweet eyelids, and the finch and the linnet waked him merrily with their morning songs, he arose, and went out into the green meadow. And he begged flour of the primrose, and sugar of the violet, and butter of the buttercup ; he shook dew-drops from the cowslip into the cup of a harebell ; spread out a large lime-leaf, set his little break fast upon it, and feasted daintily. Sometimes he invited a humming-bee, oftener a gay butterfly, to partake of his feast; but his favourite guest was the blue dragon-fly. The bee murmured a good deal, in a solemn tone, about his riches ; but the Child thought that if he were a bee, heaps of treasure would not make him gay and happy ; and that it must be much more delightful and glorious to float about in the free and fresh breezes of spring, and to hum joyously in the web of the sunbeams, than, with heavy feet and heavy heart, to stow the silver wax and the golden honey into cells.

      To this the butterfly assented ; and he told how, once on a time, he too had been greedy and sordid ; how he had thought of nothing but eating, and had never once turned his eyes upwards to the blue heavens. At length, however, a complete change had come over him ; and instead of crawling spiritless about the dirty earth, half dreaming, he all at once awaked as out of a deep sleep. And now he could rise into the air;—and it was his greatest joy sometimes to play with the light, and to reflect the heavens in the bright eyes of his wings ; sometimes to listen to the soft language of the flowers, and catch their secrets. Such talk delighted the Child, and his breakfast was the sweeter to him, and the sunshine on leaf and flower seemed to him more bright and

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