Orbasan's Favourite Fairy Tales

The Little Match Girl
Hans Christian Andersen

She pulled one out - scr-r-ratch! - how it spluttered and burned! It had a warm, bright flame like a tiny candle when she held her hand over it - but what a strange light!

The Nightingale and the Rose
Oscar Wilde

But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of the little Nightingale who had built her nest in his branches.

“Sing me one last song,” he whispered; “I shall feel very lonely when you are gone.”

So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice was like water bubbling from a silver jar.

Nice images, but that's a mighty strange oak.