To each of the young princesses, the Sea King bequeathed a garden plot, where she might dig and plant as she pleased. One princess arranged her flower bed as a whale, another like a mermaid. That of the youngest contained flowers as red as the sun’s rays at sunset.
Quiet and pensive, the youngest mermaid was a singular child. Whereas her sisters were thrilled with the treasures they obtained from the wrecks of vessels, the youngest princess cherished nothing but her lovely flowers—except one thing, a marble statue. Carved from pure white stone, the statue, which had fallen to the bottom of the sea from a wreck, was the rendering of a handsome boy. Beside the statue the youngest mermaid had planted a rose-colored weeping willow. Freely it had grown and soon it hung its fresh branches over the statue.
Enchanted by any information about the world above the sea, the Little Mermaid persuaded her venerable grandmother to tell her all she knew about the towns. To her it seemed most astounding flowers of the land should have fragrance and that fish among the trees could sing so sweetly.
“When you have reached your fifteenth year,” reminded the grandmother. “You will have sanction to rise up out of the sea. You may sit on the rocks in the luminous moonlight, while the great ships are sailing by,” she spoke no farther.
In the following year one of the sisters will be fifteen. Since each mermaid was a year younger than the next, the youngest would have to endure five years before her turn came. None of them yearned so much for her turn to come as the youngest, she who had the longest to wait and who was so reticent and thoughtful. However, each princess promised to tell the others what they discovered on their impending visit and what they thought the most pleasing because their grandmother could not tell them as much as they wanted to know.
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