Little Ida’s Flowers

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  “MY poor flowers are quite dead!” said little Ida. “They were so pretty yesterday, and now all the leaves hang withered. Why do they do that? . . . Why do the flowers look so faded to-day?” she asked again, and showed him a nosegay, which was quite withered.  “Do you know what’s the matter with them?” said the Student. “The flowers have been at a ball last night, and that’s why they hang their heads.”  “But flowers cannot dance!” cried little Ida. “O yes,” said the Student, “when it grows dark, and we are asleep, they jump about merrily. Almost every night they have a ball.” —Hans Christian Andersen. (1805–1875)

Found In A Bottle

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“I ventured into the captain’s own private cabin, and took thence the materials with which I write, and have written. I shall from time to time continue this Journal. It is true that I may not find an opportunity of transmitting it to the world, but I will not fall to make the endeavour. At the last moment I will enclose the MS. in a bottle, and cast it within the sea.” (Edgar Allan Poe, “MS. Found In A Bottle”)

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