The Bride of Dreams
THE BRIDE OF DREAMS BY FREDERIK VAN EEDEN AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY MELLIE VON AUW THE-PLIMPTON-PRESS NORWOOD-MASS-U-S-A I As one approaches my little city from the sea on a summer's day, one sees only the tall, round clump of trees on the ramparts and, overtopping it, the old bell-tower with its fantastically shaped and ornamented stories and dome-top of deep cobalt blue. The land to either side is barely visible, and the green foliage flooded with pale sunshine seems to drift in the sun-mist on the grayish yellow waters. It is a dreamy little town, that once in Holland's prime had a
to kill me, be-cause I was not a-live, and one must first live in
or-der to die. So that all his beat-ing did me no harm, and mere-ly
kept my cop-per bod-y well pol-ished.
"This cru-el king had a love-ly wife and ten beau-ti-ful
chil-dren--five boys and five girls--but in a fit of an-ger he sold
them all to the Nome King, who by means of his mag-ic arts changed
them all in-to oth-er forms and put them in his un-der-ground pal-ace
to or-na-ment the rooms.
"Af-ter-ward the King of Ev re-gret-ted his wick-ed ac-tion, and tried
to get his wife and chil-dren a-way from the Nome King, but with-out
a-vail. So, in de-spair, he locked me up in this rock, threw the key
in-to the o-cean, and then jumped in af-ter it and was drowned."
"How very dreadful!" exclaimed Dorothy.
"It is, in-deed," said the machine. "When I found my-self
im-pris-oned I shout-ed for help un-til my voice ran down; and then I
walked back and forth in this lit-tle room un-til my ac-tion ran down;
and then I stood still and thought un-til my thoughts ran down.
Af-ter that I re-mem-ber noth-ing un-til you wound me up a-gain."
"It's a very wonderful story," said Dorothy, "and proves that the Land
of Ev is really a fairy land, as I thought it was."
THE BRIDE OF DREAMS BY FREDERIK VAN EEDEN AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY MELLIE VON AUW THE-PLIMPTON-PRESS NORWOOD-MASS-U-S-A I As one approaches my little city from the sea on a summer's day, one sees only the tall, round clump of trees on the ramparts and, overtopping it, the old bell-tower with its fantastically shaped and ornamented stories and dome-top of deep cobalt blue. The land to either side is barely visible, and the green foliage flooded with pale sunshine seems to drift in the sun-mist on the grayish yellow waters. It is a dreamy little town, that once in Holland's prime had a