in and had a look at the lamp, hardly knowing what I was

names given to them. And now he had carved Holger Danske, who stood

there erect and proud, with his long beard, holding in one hand his

broad battle-axe, while with the other he leaned on the Danish arms.

The old grandfather told the little boy a great deal about Danish

men and women who had distinguished themselves in olden times, so that

he fancied he knew as much even as Holger Danske himself, who, after

all, could only dream; and when the little fellow went to bed, he

thought so much about it that he actually pressed his chin against the