海的女儿(三) 海的女儿.docx

海的女儿(三)_海的女儿
When first the sisters had permission to rise to the surface, they were each dlors could not understand the song, they took it for the howling of the storm. And these things were never to be beautiful for them; for if the ship sank, the men were drowned, and their dead bodies alone reached the palace of the Sea King.










　　When the sisters rose, arm-in-arm, through the water in this way, their youngest sister would stand quite alone, looking after them, ready to cry, only that the mermaids have no tears, and therefore they suffer more.
　　“Oh, were I but fifteen years old,” said she:“I know that I shall love the world up there, and all the people who live in it.”
　　At last she reached her fifteenth year.
　　“Well, now, you are grown up,” said the old dowager, her grandmother; “so you must let me adorn you like your other sisters;” and she placed a wreath of white lilies in her hair, and every flower leaf was half a pearl. Then the old lady ordered eight great oysters to attach themselves to the tail of the princess to show her high rank.
　　“But they hurt me so,” said the little mermaid.
　　“Pride must suffer pain,” replied the old lady.
　　Oh, how gladly she would have shaken off all this grandeur,