theDaisy byHansChristianAndersen（1838） NOWlistenInthecountry，closebythehighroad，stoodafarmhouse；
perhapsyouhavepassedbyandseenityourself.Therewasalittleflowergardenwithpaintedwoodenpalingsinfrontofit；
closebywasaditch，onitsfreshGREenbankgrewalittledaisy；
thesunshoneaswarmlyandbrightlyuponitasonthemagnificentgardenflowers，andthereforeitthrivedwell.Onemorningithadquiteopened，anditslittlesnow-whitepetalsstoodroundtheyellowcentre，liketheraysofthesun.Itdidnotmindthatnobodysawitinthegrass，andthatitwasapoordespisedflower；
onthecontrary，itwasquitehappy，andturnedtowardsthesun，lookingupwardandlisteningtothesongofthelarkhighupintheair. thelittledaisywasashappyasifthedayhadbeenaGREatholiday，butitwasonlyMonday.Allthechildrenwereatschool，andwhiletheyweresittingonthesandlearningtheirlessons，itsatonitsthingreenstalkandlearntfromthesunandfromitssurroundingshowkindGodis，anditrejoicedthatthesongofthelittlelarkexpressedsosweetlyanddistinctlyitsownfeelings.Withasortofreverencethedaisylookeduptothebirdthatcouldflyandsing，butitdidnotfeelenvious. “Icanseeandhear，”itthought；
“thesunshinesuponme，andtheforestkissesme.HowrichIam” InthegardenclosebyGREwmanylargeandmagnificentflowers，and，strangetosay，thelessfragrancetheyhadthehaughtierandproudertheywere.Thepeoniespuffedthemselvesupinordertobelargerthantheroses，butsizeisnoteverythingThetulipshadthefinestcolours，andtheyknewitwell，too，fortheywerestandingboltuprightlikecandles，thatonemightseethemthebetter.Intheirpridetheydidnotseethelittledaisy，whichlookedovertothemandthought， “HowrichandbeautifultheyareIamsuretheprettybirdwillflydownandcalluponthem.ThankGod，thatIstandsonearandcanatleastseeallthesplendour.”Andwhilethedaisywasstillthinking，thelarkcameflyingdown，crying“Tweet，”butnottothepeoniesandtulipsno，intothegrasstothepoordaisy.Itsjoywassogreatthatitdidnotknowwhattothink.Thelittlebirdhoppedrounditandsang， “Howbeautifullysoftthegrassis，andwhatalovelylittleflowerwithitsgoldenheartandsilverdressisgrowinghere.”Theyellowcentreinthedaisydidindeedlooklikegold，whilethelittlepetalsshoneasbrightlyassilver. HowhappythedaisywasNoonehastheleastidea.Thebirdkisseditwithitsbeak，sangtoit，andthenroseagainuptothebluesky.Itwascertainlymorethanaquarterofanhourbeforethedaisyrecovereditssenses.Halfashamed，yetgladatheart，itlookedovertotheotherflowersinthegarden；
surelytheyhadwitnesseditspleasureandthehonourthathadbeendonetoit；
theyunderstooditsjoy.Butthetulipsstoodmorestifflythanever，theirfaceswerepointedandred，becausetheywerevd.Thepeoniesweresulky；
itwaswellthattheycouldnotspeak，otherwisetheywouldhavegiventhedaisyagoodlecture.Thelittleflowercouldverywellseethattheywereillatease，andpitiedthemsincerely. Shortlyafterthisagirlcameintothegarden，withalargesharpknife.Shewenttothetulipsandbegancuttingthemoff，oneafteranother. “Ugh”sighedthedaisy， “thatisterrible；
nowtheyaredonefor.” thegirlcarriedthetulipsaway.Thedaisywasgladthatitwasoutside，andonlyasmallfloweritfeltverygrateful.Atsunsetitfoldeditspetals，andfellasleep，anddreamtallnightofthesunandthelittlebird.[] Onthefollowingmorning，whenthefloweroncemorestretchedforthitstenderpetals，likelittlearms，towardstheairandlight，thedaisyrecognisedthebirdsvoice，butwhatitsangsoundedsosad.Indeedthepoorbirdhadgoodreasontobesad，forithadbeencaughtandputintoacageclosebytheopenwindow.Itsangofthehappydayswhenitcouldmerrilyflyabout，offreshGREencorninthefields，andofthetimewhenitcouldsoaralmostuptotheclouds.Thepoorlarkwasmostunhappyasaprisonerinacage.Thelittledaisywouldhavelikedsomuchtohelpit，butwhatcouldbedoneIndeed，thatwasverydifficultforsuchasmallflowertofindout.Itentirelyforgothowbeautifuleverythingarounditwas，howwarmlythesunwasshining，andhowsplendidlywhiteitsownpetalswere.Itcouldonlythinkofthepoorcaptivebird，forwhichitcoulddonothing.Thentwolittleboyscameoutofthegarden；
oneofthemhadalargesharpknife，likethatwithwhichthegirlhadcutthetulips.Theycamestraighttowardsthelittledaisy，whichcouldnotunderstandwhattheywanted. “Hereisafinepieceofturfforthelark，”saidoneoftheboys，andbegantocutoutasquareroundthedaisy，sothatitremainedinthecentreofthegrass. “Pluckthefloweroff”saidtheoth