Адаптированная книга на английском языке «The Marsh King Daughter by Andersen H.C.».
The storks tell their little ones many stories, and they are all about moors and reed banks, and suited to their age. The youngest of them are quite satisfied with «kribble, krabble,» or such nonsense, and think it great. But the elder ones want something with a deeper meaning, or at least somethingabouttheirown family.
We know one of the longest and oldest stories which the storks tell. It has been repeated from mouth to mouth, from one stork- mother to another, for thousands of years. Each stork has told it better than the last. And now we plan to tell it better than all.
The first stork pair who told it lived at the time it happened. They had their nest on the roof of the Viking’s house, which stood near the wild moorlands of Wendsyssell. That is, to speak more correctly, the great moorland, high up in the north of Jutland. This moorland is still an immense area of marshy ground, about which we can read in the «Official Directory». It is said that in old times the place was a lake. Now the moorland extends for miles in every direction. It is surrounded by damp meadows, dangerous swamps, and marshy ground covered with turf, on which grow bilberry bushes and short trees. There are almost always thick fogs over this region, which, seventy years ago, was full of wolves. It may well be called the Wild Moor. One can easily imagine, with such great marsh and lake, how lonely and sad it was a thousand years ago.
Many things may be noticed now that existed then. The reeds grow to the same height, and have the same kind of long, purple-brown leaves, with their feathery tips. There still stands the birch, with its white bark and its delicate, loosely hanging leaves. The flies still wear a thin dress of the same cut, and the favourite colours of the stork are white, with black and red for stockings. The people, certainly, in those days, wore very different dresses to those they now wear. But if any of them, be he a rich man or a poor one, master or servant, stepped on the marshy ground of the moor, they met with the same fate a thousand years ago as they do now. The poor fellow sank, and went down to the Marsh King, as he is called. The Marsh King rules in the waters of the great moorland empire. They also called him «Swamp King,» but we like the name of «Marsh King» better, and we will give him that,name as the storks do. Very little is known of the Marsh King’s rule, but that, perhaps, is a good thing.
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