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母亲的故事
A mother sat there with her little child. She was so downcast, so afraid that
it should die! It was so pale, the small eyes had closed themselves, and it
drew its breath so softly, now and then, with a deep respiration, as if it
sighed; and the mother looked still more sorrowfully on the little creature.
Then a knocking was heard at the door, and in came a poor old man wrapped up
as in a large horse-cloth, for it warms one, and he needed it, as it was the
cold winter season! Everything out-of-doors was covered with ice and snow, and
the wind blew so that it cut the face.
As the old man trembled with cold, and the little child slept a moment, the
mother went and poured some ale into a pot and set it on the stove, that it
might be warm for him; the old man sat and rocked the cradle, and the mother
sat down on a chair close by him, and looked at her little sick child that
drew its breath so deep, and raised its little hand.
Do you not think that I shall save him? said she. Our Lord will not take
him from me!
And the old man--it was Death himself--he nodded so strangely, it could just
as well signify yes as no. And the mother looked down in her lap, and the
tears ran down over her cheeks; her head became so heavy--she had not closed
her eyes for three days and nights; and now she slept, but only for a minute,
when she started up and trembled with cold.
What is that? said she, and looked on all sides; but the old man was gone,
and her little child was gone--he had taken it with him; and the old clock in
the corner burred, and burred, the great leaden weight ran down to the floor,
bump! and then the clock also stood still.
But the poor mother ran out of the house and cried aloud for her child.
Out there, in the midst of the snow, there sat a woman in long, black clothes;
and she said, Death has been in thy chamber, and I saw him hasten away with
thy little child; he goes faster than the wind, and he never brings back what
he takes!
Oh, only tell me which way h
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