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making the most wonderful movements； but at last he became quite
still。 After a while； a flash of lightning seemed to pass through him；
and then the daylight approached； and a voice cried out； 〃I declare
here is the tin soldier。〃 The fish had been caught； taken to the
market and sold to the cook； who took him into the kitchen and cut him
open with a large knife。 She picked up the soldier and held him by the
waist between her finger and thumb； and carried him into the room。
They were all anxious to see this wonderful soldier who had
travelled about inside a fish； but he was not at all proud。 They
placed him on the table； and… how many curious things do happen in the
world！… there he was in the very same room from the window of which he
had fallen； there were the same children； the same playthings；
standing on the table； and the pretty castle with the elegant little
dancer at the door； she still balanced herself on one leg； and held up
the other； so she was as firm as himself。 It touched the tin soldier
so much to see her that he almost wept tin tears； but he kept them
back。 He only looked at her and they both remained silent。 Presently
one of the little boys took up the tin soldier； and threw him into the
stove。 He had no reason for doing so； therefore it must have been
the fault of the black goblin who lived in the snuff…box。 The flames
lighted up the tin soldier； as he stood； the heat was very terrible；
but whether it proceeded from the real fire or from the fire of love
he could not tell。 Then he could see that the bright colors were faded
from his uniform； but whether they had been washed off during his
journey or from the effects of his sorrow； no one could say。 He looked
at the little lady； and she looked at him。 He felt himself melting
away； but he still remained firm with his gun on his shoulder。
Suddenly the door of the room flew open and the draught of air
caught up the little dancer； she fluttered like a sylph right into the
stove by the side of the tin soldier； and was instantly in flames
and was gone。 The tin soldier melted down into a lump； and the next
morning； when the maid servant took the ashes out of the stove； she
found him in the shape of a little tin heart。 But of the little dancer
nothing remained but the tinsel rose； which was burnt black as a
cinder。
THE END
。