There's nobody in the whole world who knows so many stories as Ole Luk-Oie. He can tell capital histories.

Well on in the evening, when the children still sit nicely at table, or upon their stools, Ole Luk-Oie comes. He comes up the stairs quite softly, for he walks in his socks; he opens the door noiselessly, and whisk! he squirts sweet milk in the children's eyes, a small, small stream, but enough to prevent them from keeping their eyes open; and thus they cannot see him. He creeps just among them, and blows softly upon their necks, and this makes their heads heavy. Yes, but it doesn't hurt them, for Ole Luk-Oie is very fond of the children; he only wants them to be quiet, and that they are not until they are taken to bed; they are to be quiet that he may tell them stories.

When the children sleep, Ole Luk-Oie sits down upon their bed. He is well dressed: his coat is of silk, but it is impossible to say of what colour,for it shines red, green, and blue, according as he turns. Under each arm he carries an umbrella; the one with pictures on it he spreads overthegood children, and then theydreamall nightthemostglorious stories; but on his other umbrella nothing at all is painted; this he spreads over the naughty children, and these sleep in a dull way, and when they awake in the morning they have not dreamed of anything.

Now we shall hear how Ole Luk-Oie, every evening through one whole week, came to a little boy named Hjalmar, and what he told him. There are seven stories, for there are seven days in the week.

MONDAY

"Listen," said Ole Luk-Oie in the evening, when he had put Hjalmar to bed; "now I'll decorate." And all the flowers in the flower-pots became great trees, stretching out their long branches under the ceiling of the room and along the walls, so that the whole room looked like a beauteous bower; and all the twigs were covered with flowers, and each flower was more beautiful than a rose, and smelt so sweet that one wanted to eat it--it was sweeter than jam. The fruit gleamed like gold, and there were cakes bursting with raisins. It was incomparably beautiful. But at the same time a terrible wail sounded from the table drawer, where Hjalmar's school-book lay.

"Whatever can that be?" said Ole Luk-Oie; and he went to the table, and opened the drawer. It was the slate which was suffering from convulsions, for a wrong number had got into the sum, so that it was nearly falling in pieces; the slate pencil tugged and jumped at its string, as if it had been a little dog who wanted to help the sum; but he could not. And thus there was a great lamentation in Hjalmar's copy-book; it was quite terrible to hear. On each page the great letters stood in a row, one underneath the other, and each with a little one at its side; that was the copy; and next to these were a few more letters which thought they looked just like the first; and these Hjalmar had written; but they lay down just as if they had tumbled over the pencil lines on which they were to stand.

"See, this is how you should hold yourselves," said the Copy. "Look, sloping in this way, with a powerful swing!"

"Oh, we should be very glad to do that,"

replied Hjalmar's Letters, "but we cannot; we are too weakly."

"Then you must take medicine," said Ole Luk-Oie.

"Oh, no," cried they; and they immediately stood up so gracefully that it was beautiful to behold.

"Yes, now we cannot tell any stories," said Ole Luk-Oie; "now I must exercise them. One, two! one, two!" and thus he exercised the Letters; and they stood quite slender, and as beautiful as any copy can be. But when Ole Luk-Oie went away, and Hjalmar looked at them next morning, they were as weak and miserable as ever.

（To be continued）

世界上再没有人比奥列·路却埃知道的故事多了，他会讲许多很好听的故事。

晚上，当孩子们还规规距距地坐在桌边，或者坐在凳子上的时候，奥列·路却埃就来了。他上楼时脚步很轻，因为他是穿着袜子走的。他轻手轻脚地打开门，“扑!”他喷了一点甜牛奶在孩子们的眼里，只是一小点儿，但也足以让他们睁不开眼睛。这样一来，孩子们就看不见他了。他悄悄地走在孩子们中间，轻轻地吹他们的脖子，让他们脑袋发胀。是的，这伤不着他们，因为奥列·路却埃是很喜欢小孩子的。他只是想让他们静下来，而只有上床后他们才能做到这一点。他们必须安静下来，他才能给他们讲故事。

孩子们入睡以后，奥列·路却埃就坐到了他们的床上。他穿得很漂亮，上衣是丝的，但说不清是什么颜色，因为随着他的转动，衣服一会儿闪着红光，一会儿闪着绿光，一会儿又闪光蓝光。他的双腋下各夹着一把伞。绘有图案的那把伞，他支在好孩子头上，这样他们就可以整夜梦见美妙的故事了；另一把伞上面什么也没画，他把这把伞支在淘气的孩子头上，这样他们的睡眠一点意思也没有，当他们早晨醒来的时候，什么也没有梦见。

现在我们来听听，一星期里的每个晚上，奥列·路却埃是如何来到一个名叫哈尔马的孩子身边，又给他讲了什么故事。总共是七个故事，因为一星期有七天呀。

星期一

“听着，”晚上，奥列·路却埃把哈尔马哄上床后，说，“现在我要开始装点了。”花盆里所有的花儿都成了大树，长长的树枝一直伸到屋顶下和墙边，整个房间看起来就像个美丽的花亭。所有的枝条上都开满了花儿，每朵花儿都比玫瑰还要美，发出浓浓的香气，真让人想尝尝——比果酱还要香哪!果实都像金子般闪烁，还有露着葡萄干的蛋糕呢。真是美得无可比拟。但同时，放着哈尔马课本的桌子抽屉里，发出了可怕的哭声。

“这是怎么回事?”奥列·路却埃说。他来到桌子边，打开了抽屉。原来是一块写字板在抽筋，因为数字的总和算错了，差点让写字板散了架。拴着线的粉笔在上面跳来跳去，好像一个小狗一样。它想帮助总和，但又办不到。这时，哈尔马的抄写本里又发出一声哀鸣，声音听起来真是怕人。在每一页里，大大的字母都排成队，一个摞着一个，每个旁边都有一个小小的字母。这是抄写本。在这些字母旁边，还有几个字母，这些字母是哈尔马抄写的，它们以为自己跟前面的字母都一样呢。但它们歪歪扭扭的，都出了自己该呆的铅笔格儿。

“瞧，你们应该这样站好，”抄写本说，“看，朝这边斜一点儿，用力一划!”

“啊，我们很乐意这样做，”哈尔马的字母答道，“但我们做不到啊，我们太软弱了。”

“那你们得吃点药，”奥列·路却埃说。

“啊，不行，”它们叫道。它们马上优雅地站好了，煞是好看。

“好吧，现在我不能讲故事了，”奥列·路却埃说，“我要训练训练你们。一，二!一，二！”他就这样训练那些字母。它们很苗条地站着，像范本上的一样漂亮。奥列·路却埃走了以后，哈尔马第二天早晨一看，它们还是老样子，又虚弱，又难看。

（待续）