In the story of the "Swineherd," Hans Andersen says:

"On the grave of the Prince's father there grew a rose-tree. It only
bloomed once in five years, and only bore one rose. But what a rose!
Its perfume was so exquisite that whoever smelt it forgot at once all
his cares and sorrows."

Lafcadio Hearn says:

"Time weeds out the errors and stupidities of cheap success, and
presents the Truth. It takes, like the aloe, a long time to flower,
but the blossom is all the more precious when it appears."



CHAPTER III. THE ARTIFICES OF STORY-TELLING.

By this term I do not mean anything against the gospel of simplicity
which I am so constantly preaching, but, for want of a better term, I
use the word "artifice" to express the mechanical devices by which we
endeavor to attract and hold the attention of the audience. The art
of telling stories is, in truth, much more difficult than acting a
part on the stage: First, because the narrator is responsible for the
whole drama and the whole atmosphere which surrounds it. He has to
live the life of each character and understand the relation which each
bears to the whole. Secondly, because the stage is a miniature one,
gestures and movements must all be so adjusted as not to destroy the
sense of proportion. I have often noticed that actors, accustomed to
the more roomy public stage, are apt to be too broad in their gestures