小学英语 安徒生童话系列（七）素材（打包9套）
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安徒生童话系列（七）素材（打包9套）
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thethe daisydaisyby hans christian andersen（1838）now listen！ in the country， close by the highroad， stood a farmhouse； perhaps you havepassed by and seen it yourself. there was a littleflower garden with painted wooden palings in front ofit； close by was a ditch， on its fresh green bankgrew a little daisy； the sun shone as warmly andbrightly upon it as on the magnificent gardenflowers， and therefore it thrived well. one morning ithad quite opened， and its little snow-white petals stood round the yellow centre， like the raysof the sun. it did not mind that nobody saw it in the grass， and that it was a poor despisedflower； on the contrary， it was quite happy， and turned towards the sun， looking upwardand listening to the song of the lark high up in the air.the little daisy was as happy as if the day had been a great holiday， but it was onlymonday. all the children were at school， and while they were sitting on the forms and learningtheir lessons， it sat on its thin green stalk and learnt from the sun and from its surroundingshow kind god is， and it rejoiced that the song of the little lark expressed so sweetly anddistinctly its own feelings. with a sort of reverence the daisy looked up to the bird that couldfly and sing， but it did not feel envious. “i can see and hear，” it thought； “the sun shinesupon me， and the forest kisses me. how rich i am！”in the garden close by grew many large and magnificent flowers， and， strange to say，the less fragrance they had the haughtier and prouder they were. the peonies puffedthemselves up in order to be larger than the roses， but size is not everything！ the tulips hadthe finest colours， and they knew it well， too， for they were standing bolt upright likecandles， that one might see them the better. in their pride they did not see the little daisy，which looked over to them and thought， “how rich and beautiful they are！ i am sure thepretty bird will fly down and call upon them. thank god， that i stand so near and can at leastsee all the splendour.” and while the daisy was still thinking， the lark came flying down，crying “tweet，” but not to the peonies and tulipsno， into the grass to the poor daisy. itsjoy was so great that it did not know what to think. the little bird hopped round it and sang， “how beautifully soft the grass is， and what a lovely little flower with its golden heart and silverdress is growing here.” the yellow centre in the daisy did indeed look like gold， while the littlepetals shone as brightly as silver.how happy the daisy was！ no one has the least idea. the bird kissed it with its beak，sang to it， and then rose again up to the blue sky. it was certainly more than a quarter of anhour before the daisy recovered its senses. half ashamed， yet glad at heart， it looked over tothe other flowers in the garden； surely they had witnessed its pleasure and the honour thathad been done to it； they understood its joy. but the tulips stood more stiffly than ever，their faces were pointed and red， because they were vexed. the peonies were sulky； it waswell that they could not speak， otherwise they would have given the daisy a good lecture. thelittle flower could very well see that they were ill at ease， and pitied them sincerely.shortly after this a girl came into the garden， with a large sharp knife. she went to thetulips and began cutting them off， one after another. “ugh！” sighed the daisy， “that isterrible； now they are done for.”the girl carried the tulips away. the daisy was glad that it was outside， and only a smallflowerit felt very grateful. at sunset it folded its petals， and fell asleep， and dreamt allnight of the sun and the little bird.w&ww.zzstep.c%omon the following morning， when the flower once more stretched forth its tender petals，like little arms， towards the air and light， the daisy recognised the birds voice， but what itsang sounded so sad. indeed the poor bird had good reason to be sad， for it had been caughtand put into a cage close by the open window. it sang of the happy days when it could merrilyfly about， of fresh green corn in the fields， and of the time when it could soar almost up tothe clouds. the poor lark was most unhappy as a prisoner in a cage. the little daisy wouldhave liked so much to help it， but what could be done？ indeed， that was very difficult forsuch a small flower to find out. it entirely forgot how beautiful everything around it was， howwarmly the sun was shining， and how splendidly white its own petals were. it could only thinkof the poor captive bird， for which it could do nothing. then two little boys came out of thegarden； one of them had a large sharp knife， like that with which the girl had cut the tulips.they came straight towards the little daisy， which could not understand what they wanted.“here is a fine piece of turf for the lark，” said one of the boys， and began to cut out asquare round the daisy， so that it remained in the centre of the grass.“pluck the flower off” said the other boy， and the daisy trembled for fear， for to be pulledoff meant death to it； and it wished so much to live， as it was to go with the square of turfinto the poor captive larks cage.“no let it stay，” said the other boy， “it looks so pretty.”and so it stayed， and was brought into the larks cage. the poor bird was lamenting itslost liberty， and beating its wings against the wires； and the little daisy could not speak orutter a consoling word， much as it would have liked to do so. so the forenoon passed.“i have no water，” said the captive lark， “they have all gone out， and forgotten to giveme anything to drink. my throat is dry and burning. i feel as if i had fire and ice within me， andthe air is so oppressive. alas！ i must die， and part with the warm sunshine， the freshgreen meadows， and all the beauty that god has created.” and it thrust its beak into thepiece of grass， to refresh itself a little. then it noticed the little daisy， and nodded to it， andkissed it with its beak and said： “you must also fade in here， poor little flower. you and thepiece of grass are all they have given me in exchange for the whole world， which i enjoyedoutside. each little blade of grass shall be a green tree for me， each of your white petals afragrant flower. alas！ you only remind me of what i have lost.”“i wish i could console the poor lark，” thought the daisy. it could not move one of itsleaves， but the fragrance of its delicate petals streamed forth， and was much stronger thansuch flowers usually have： the bird noticed it， although it was dying with thirst， and in itspain tore up the green blades of grass， but did not touch the flower.the evening came， and nobody appeared to bring the poor bird a drop of water； itopened its beautiful wings， and fluttered about in its anguish； a faint and mournful “tweet，tweet，” was all it could utter， then it bent its little head towards the flower， and its heartbroke for want and longing. the flower could not， as on the previous evening， fold up itspetals and sleep； it dropped sorrowfully. the boys only came the next morning； when theysaw the dead bird， they began to cry bitterly， dug a nice grave for it， and adorned it withflowers. the birds body was placed in a pretty red box； they wished to bury it with royalhonours. while it was alive and sang they forgot it， and let it suffer want in the cage； now，they cried over it and covered it with flowers. the piece of turf， with the little daisy in it， wasthrown out on the dusty highway. nobody thought of the flower which had felt so much for thebird and had so greatly desired to comfort it.thethe darning-needledarning-needleby hans christian andersen（1846）there was once a darning-needle who thoughtherself so fine that she fancied she must be fit forembroidery. “hold me tight，” she would say to thefingers， when they took her up， “dont let me fall；if you do i shall never be found again， i am so veryfine.”“that is your opinion， is it？” said the fingers，as they seized her round the body.“see， i am coming with a train，” said the darning-needle， drawing a long thread afterher； but there was no knot in the thread.the fingers then placed the point of the needle against the cooks slipper. there was acrack in the upper leather， which had to be sewn together.“what coarse work！” said the darning-needle， “i shall never get through. i shall break！i am breaking！” and sure enough she broke. “did i not say so？” said the darning-needle， “i know i am too fine for such work as that.”“this needle is quite useless for sewing now，” said the fingers； but they still held it fast，and the cook dropped some sealing-wax on the needle， and fastened her handkerchief with itin front.“so now i am a breast-pin，” said the darning-needle； “i knew very well i should come tohonor some day： merit is sure to rise；” and she laughed， quietly to herself， for of courseno one ever saw a darning-needle laugh. and there she sat as proudly as if she were in a statecoach， and looked all around her. “may i be allowed to ask if you are made of gold？” sheinquired of her neighbor， a pin； “you have a very pretty appearance， and a curious head，although you are rather small. you must take pains to grow， for it is not every one who hassealing-wax dropped upon him；” and as she spoke， the darning-needle drew herself up soproudly that she fell out of the handkerchief right into the sink， which the cook was cleaning. “now i am going on a journey，” said the needle， as she floated away with the dirty water， “ido hope i shall not be lost.” but she really was lost in a gutter. “i am too fine for this world，”said the darning-needle， as she lay in the gutter； “but i know who i am， and that is alwayssome comfort.” so the darning-needle kept up her proud behavior， and did not lose hergood humor. then there floated over her all sorts of things，chips and straws， and pieces ofold newspaper. “see how they sail，” said the darning-needle； “they do not know what isunder them. i am here， and here i shall stick. see， there goes a chip， thinking of nothing inthe world but himself only a chip. theres a straw going by now； how he turns and twistsabout！ dont be thinking too much of yourself， or you may chance to run against a stone.there swims a piece of newspaper； what is written upon it has been forgotten long ago， andyet it gives itself airs. i sit here patiently and quietly. i know who i am， so i shall not move.”one day something lying close to the darning-needle glittered so splendidly that shethought it was a diamond； yet it was only a piece of broken bottle. the darning-needlespoke to it， because it sparkled， and represented herself as a breast-pin. “i suppose you arereally a diamond？” she said.“why yes， something of the kind，” he replied； and so each believed the other to be veryvaluable， and then they began to talk about the world， and the conceited people in it.“i have been in a ladys work-box，” said the darning-needle， “and this lady was the cook.she had on each hand five fingers， and anything so conceited as these five fingers i havenever seen； and yet they were only employed to take me out of the box and to put me backagain.”“were they not high-born？”“high-born！” said the darning-needle， “no indeed， but so haughty. they were fivebrothers， all born fingers； they kept very proudly together， though they were of differentlengths. the one who stood first in the rank was named the thumb， he was short and thick，and had only one joint in his back， and could therefore make but one bow； but he said thatif he were cut off from a mans hand， that man would be unfit for a soldier. sweet-tooth， hisneighbor， dipped himself into sweet or sour， pointed to the sun and moon， and formed theletters when the fingers wrote. longman， the middle finger， looked over the heads of all theothers. gold-band， the next finger， wore a golden circle round his waist. and little playmandid nothing at all， and seemed proud of it. they were boasters， and boasters they willremain； and therefore i left them.”“and now we sit here and glitter，” said the piece of broken bottle.at the same moment more water streamed into the gutter， so that it overflowed， andthe piece of bottle was carried away.“so he is promoted，” said the darning-needle， “while i remain here； i am too fine， butthat is my pride， and what do i care？” and so she sat there in her pride， and had manysuch thoughts as these，“i could almost fancy that i came from a sunbeam， i am so fine. itseems as if the sunbeams were always looking for me under the water. ah！ i am so fine thateven my mother cannot find me. had i still my old eye， which was broken off， i believe ishould weep； but no， i would not do that， it is not genteel to cry.”one day a couple of street boys were paddling in the gutter， for they sometimes foundold nails， farthings， and other treasures. it was dirty work， but they took great pleasure init. “hallo！” cried one， as he pricked himself with the darning-needle， “heres a fellow foryou.”“i am not a fellow， i am a young lady，” said the darning-needle； but no one heard her.the sealing-wax had come off， and she was quite black； but black makes a person lookslender， so she thought herself even finer than before.“here comes an egg-shell sailing along，” said one of the boys； so they stuck the darning-needle into the egg-shell.“white walls， and i am black myself，” said the darning-needle， “that looks well； now ican be seen， but i hope i shall not be sea-sick， or i shall break again.” she was not sea-sick， and she did not break. “it is a good thing against sea-sickness to have a steel stomach，and not to forget ones own importance. now my sea-sickness has past： delicate people canbear a great deal.”crack went the egg-shell， as a waggon passed over it. “good heavens， how it crushes！”said the darning-needle. “i shall be sick now. i am breaking！” but she did not break， thoughthe waggon went over her as she lay at full length； and there let her lie.从前有一根织补衣服的针。作为一根织补针来说，她倒还算细巧，因此她就想像自己是一根绣花针。“请你们注意你们现在拿着的这东西吧！”她对那几个取她出来的手指说。“你们不要把我失掉！我一落到地上去，你们就决不会找到我的，因为我是那么细呀！”“细就细好了，”手指说。它们把她拦腰紧紧地捏住。“你们看，我还带着随从啦！”她说。她后面拖着一根长线，不过线上并没有打结。手指正把这根针钉着女厨子的一只拖鞋，因为拖鞋的皮面裂开了，需要缝一下。“这是一件庸俗的工作，”织补针说。“我怎么也不愿钻进去。我要折断！我要折断了！”於是她真的折断了。“我不是说过吗？”织补针说，“我是非常细的呀！”手指想：她现在没有甚么用了。不过它们仍然不愿意放弃她，因为女厨子在针头上滴了一点封蜡，同时把她别在一块手帕上。“现在我成为一根领针（註：领针（brystnaal）是一种装饰*？，穿西装时插在领带上；针头上一般镶有一颗珍珠。）了！”织补针说。“我早就知道我会得到光荣的：一个不平凡的人总会得到一个不平凡的地位！”於是她心里笑了当一根织补针在笑的时候，人们是没有办法看到她的外部表情的。她别在那儿，显得很骄傲，好像她是坐在轿车里，左顾右盼似的。“请准许我问一声：您是金子做的吗？”她问她旁边的一根别针。“你有一张非常好看的面孔，一个自己的头脑只是小了一点。你得使它再长大一点才成，因为封蜡并不会滴到每根针头上的呀。”织补针很骄傲地挺起身子，结果弄得自己从手帕上落下来了，一直落到厨子正在沖洗的污水沟里去了。“现在我要去旅行了，”织补针说。“我只希望我不要迷了路！”不过她却迷了路。“就这个世界说来，我是太细了，”她来到了排水沟的时候说。“不过我知道我的身份，而这也算是一点小小的安慰！”所以织补针继续保持着她骄傲的态度，同时也不失掉她得意的心情。许多不同的东西在她身上浮过去了：菜屑啦，草叶啦，旧报纸碎片啦。“请看它们游得多么快！”织补针说。“它们不知道它们下面还有一件甚么东西！我就在这儿，我坚定地坐在这儿！看吧，一根棍子浮过来了，它以为世界上除了棍子以外再也没有甚么别的东西。它就是这样一个傢伙！一根草浮过来了。你看它扭着腰肢和转动的那副样儿！不要以为自己了不起吧，你很容易撞到一块石头上去呀！一张破报纸游过来了！它上面印着的东西早已被人家忘记了
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