This is a story of a tribe of fairy dwarfs. They were very small wooden creatures who lived in the densest parts of the deep forest, where few people ever went. The wooden dwarfs lived for a very long time, but they never knew what to do with themselves since, being wooden, they needed neither food nor drink, let alone clothing. They were hardy little creatures. They did not suffer even from the bitter frosts.

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The dwarfs spent their days climbing trees and bustling about aimlessly. They never gave much thought to what they were doing. The dwarfs didn't have hearts, so they could neither love, nor hate, and they knew nothing about joy or anger, sorrow or sympathy. Whenever a dwarf was careless enough to fall off a high tree and break his back, his fellow dwarfs would gather around immediately and their little wooden heads with pointed noses would jerk up and down excitedly as they chatted in their rattling, wooden voices. Their curiosity satisfied, they would dart off leaving their poor brother to rot where he had fallen.
The dwarfs also used to throw sharp, pointed fir cones at forest beasts. They did this just for the fun of it. Small wonder, the animals didn't like them. They were the same with the birds; the dwarfs plundered their nests and dropped their eggs, just to see how they would crack when they hit the ground. That is why the forest's inhabitants kepi well clear of the thickets where the dwarfs lived. Only a frightened hare, running for his life from a wolf or a fox, might accidentally enter the dwarfs' territory; then, as soon as he realized where he was he would turn round and hop away as fast as he could.
So it was no wonder that one day the wooden dwarfs were greatly amazed to see a little girl wander into their part of the forest. The dwarfs heard the girl calling out to somebody and when they peeped out of the bushes they saw her sit down beside a fir-tree and burst into tears.
The wooden dwarfs drew nearer, hiding behind the tree-trunks. They gaped at the crying girl in blank surprise.
"What's that?" exclaimed one of them bewildered by the tears rolling down the girl's cheeks.
"It must be rain," another suggested.
Then, a dwarf named Browny, who was famous for his curiosity and courage, decided it was time for a closer look.
"What's that you're doing, little girl?" Browny asked, stepping forward. He reached out and let some tears drop onto his spindly hand.
The girl was very surprised (she was a modern girl and she knew for certain that fairies didn't exist), and she must have been a bit scared to discover a wooden dwarf by her ankle, but she pulled herself together and explained politely, "I'm crying."
"And what is crying?" the brave dwarf went on, because he had never seen someone cry.
"It's shedding tears to show how unhappy you are."
"Now, what is — t-terars?"
Instead of replying, the little girl sobbed and pointed at the drops of water in Browny's cupped hand.
"But why are you unhappy?" Browny demanded because, as I said, he was a very nosey dwarf. "Because... I've lost my way and... I don't... know how to get out of here..."
"You want to get out of here?" the dwarf exclaimed, incredulously. "But where do you want to go? Is there anything else in the world apart from this forest?"
"Of course, there is! There are steppes and mountains, seas and oceans, towns and villages..."
These words made Browny tingle with excitement. To make up for his lack of brains, Browny had developed a keen instinct for a good adventure and now his interest was greatly aroused. So he said:
"I want to see your world! Will you help me, little girl?"
"Sure I will," replied the girl. "If you show me the way out of this horrible forest."
Browny didn't look back at his fellow dwarfs who were still watching him and the girl, their heads poking out from behind the tree-trunks. "Let's go," said Browny and he went skipping and hopping in front of the girl on his spinderly legs.
They spent many hours treking across the forest. They forced their way through thorny bushes, crossed deep ravines with icy water murmuring far below. They skirted round the giant trees... The forest seemed to be endless.
Finally, the girl could walk no further.
"Don't go so fast, Browny," she groaned and sanked to the ground. "Let's have a rest. My heart is aching."
"Heart! What is heart?" Browny asked at once, hopping up and down in front of the girl. Since he was made of wood, he didn't have a heart or lungs or muscles and he had never felt tired in his life.
"Well..." the girl said pensively, "the heart is something no human can do without."
"Then show me your heart!"
"I can't do that. It's inside me."
Browny thought for a moment, or rather made a pause, because he was hardly able to think. Then he asked:
"Is it difficult to get a heart?"
"You can't get a heart. You are born with one."
"But I want to have a heart too!"
The girl was going to reply, "What nonsense you are talking!" but she decided against it, because the dwarf was helping her to get out of the forest and it would have been a rude answer.
"Oh please. Give me your heart!" insisted Browny.
"I can't give you my heart, Browny, because without it I shall die," the girl said firmly. "But look, there is a doctor in our town who collects dead people's hearts. He revives these hearts and keeps them alive for a long time. We can go to that doctor, if you-want, and ask him to give you a heart. He won't refuse, he's a kind man."
"That's wonderful!" exclaimed the dwarf, greatly cheered up by the idea. He hopped up and down impatiently. "Let's go there right away! I want to have a heart just like you."
Again they walked and walked until they reached the edge of the forest. And from there they could see a town in the distance. The little girl put the dwarf into her basket, so that no one would trample on him and set off to find the famous doctor.
I must say here that this doctor is an actual person, but I don't want to give his name and address because, if I did, thousands of people would rush to him to have their hearts exchanged. They would be endlessly pestering the doctor, wasting his time and robbing him of any chance to get on with his scientific work. Neither will I tell you the number of the bus the girl took, nor where she got off, nor how she found the doctor's laboratory. Instead, I'm going to tell you how the doctor met our heroes and what he said when Browny told him what they had come for. "So, you want to have heart. Mm... What kind of heart would you like to have?"
"A human heart, of course," replied the dwarf in his feeble voice, gazing around him in wonder. They were in the doctor's enormous laboratory. There were glass shelves running along the glossy white walls and the floor was covered with tiles.
"Well, there are many kinds of human hearts, all different," said the doctor sternly. Then, seeing how genuinely amazed Browny was, he smiled a soft, kind smile and said, "All right, I'll show you what I have and you can pick one out for yourself."
Browny jumped at the invitation. He tottered after the doctor along the rows of glass shelves, each crammed with jars of every shape and size. The larger ones were filled with some clear liquid in which human hearts were floating. The hearts were alive and throbbing.
"This heart once belonged to a very bad man," the doctor explained, pointing at one of the jars. "See, it's yellow and all wrinkled up!"
"I don't want that one, it's ugly!" the dwarf replied.
The doctor grinned approvingly. "Now look at this one, shiny as a glass ball," he went on. "See how well it's preserved. This heart has worked for decades, but it still isn't worn out, because its former owner didn't use it. He never cared about anyone or anything."
Browny was in two minds; the shiny heart seemed very attractive, but he wanted to see the other ones as well. So they moved on.
"Look at this one, it belonged to a gangster..."
"Why is it so black?"
"It's smeared with all the crimes its owner committed..."
"And whose heart is this?"
Unlike the rest, the heart Browny was pointing to wasn't
floating, but lay at the bottom of its jar. It was a strange-looking heart: dirty, grey and heavy as if carved out of a rock.
"This heart belonged to a man who cared only for himself and he didn't value other people at all," the doctor explained. The dwarf didn't understand much of these words. Still, he wasn't going to ask for this heart, it looked so repulsive!
Hour after hour the doctor displayed the hearts, one by one. But Browny couldn't make up his mind. Finally, the doctor reached up to the top shelf and produced one more jar. He placed it carefully on the white marble table and said:
"This heart once belonged to a very kind man. You can see how large and bright it is!"
"What are those red needles sticking into it for?" asked Brow-ny, puzzled.
"Those aren't needles, my friend, they are nerves. They make the heart very sensitive and easily hurt. Whoever has this heart isn't going to have a free and easy life. His sensitive heart will make him respond anxiously to human suffering and misfortune. Whenever he meets a stranger who is upset, his heart will immediately feel hurt, and he will only feel better when he has brought some comfort to the stranger. Now, see for yourself..."
Suddenly, the doctor banged on the edge of the table with his open palm and grimaced with pain. As he did so, the heart throbbed so violently it nearly jumped out of the jar.
"I'll take this one!" the dwarf said, his eyes glued to the jar.
"All right, I shall implant it into you myself," the doctor agreed. "Only, think twice before you take it. With this heart, you won't have a moment's rest."
But Browny stubbornly repeated, "I want this one!"
So the doctor split open his wooden chest and fixed the human heart deep inside. And that was that.
...When Browny came back to his tribe, he felt quite different and altogether very strange. His native forest, once gloomy and hostile, was now bright and friendly. Browny was thrilled by every living creature he saw, from the tiniest bug to the largest wild animal. His short-lived curiosity had-turned into constant concern and sympathy.
When he happened to see one of his fellow dwarfs teasing a beetle, he would put a stop to it immediately, saying:
"Leave it alone! See, it's hurrying home to feed its babies?"
Or, should Browny happen to come across a wounded bird surrounded by a crowd of gaping dwarfs, he would call out:
"Don't touch it! You're hurting it! Can't you have some sympathy for the poor little bird?"
"What do you mean, sympathy?" asked the dwarfs in surprise, their hollow heads knocking against each other.
How was he going to explain that? They had no hearts, they could feel nothing at all. They wouldn't understand!
The eldest wooden dwarf had met humans more often than the others and he had some idea of what was meant by "sympathy." He said in an authoritative voice, "You can't feel sorrow for everybody. You can't share everybody's troubles, or you won't live very long!"
Everyone readily agreed with the old dwarf, because he was the eldest of them all and his beard was the longest. Browny was the only one who disagreed, but he kept silent. After all, how were these heartless fellows ever going to understand? He felt he would have to spend the rest of his life all by himself as he was the only dwarf who could feel pity for a creature in trouble. And indeed he would have gone on living like this if it weren't for another strange event...
It happened in winter. The trees were stiff with frost and covered with snow. A little boy was sitting under a mighty oak-tree. He was motionless. Like that girl before, he had lost his way, and was so exhausted that he couldn't open his eyes.
As was their habit, the wooden dwarfs gathered around the almost frozen boy and asked each other, "What's the matter with him?" For them, it was just a bit of fun...
"He's freezing," the eldest dwarf with the longest beard said boastfully, and he looked around, waiting for the others to compliment him on his wisdom. "I've seen humans freezing to death before. We won't have to wait long before this boy is dead."
Before the boastful dwarf had finished speaking, Browny rushed to the poor boy. A wave of pity and compassion was
welling up in his heart and he felt as if he was being pierced with thousands of needles... Browny took hold of the freezing boy's sleeve and pulled at it with all his might, trying to rouse the boy from his deadly slumber.
"Get up, boy! Get up, for mercy's sake!"
But the boy seemed oblivious to everything, only his -eyelashes quivered and his hand, limp and cold as marble, drooped down into the snow.
Browny looked about helplessly, but all he saw was the ice-cold sun looming above the snow-covered forest, and his indifferent fellow dwarfs gaping at him in silence. Browny grew desperate. "He'll die in a minute," he thought, overwhelmed with pity. Then, all of a sudden, his heart burst into flames! His little wooden body collapsed into the snow sending red and orange flames into the air around him.
Browny, that merciful wooden dwarf, was burning himself to save the boy from freezing to death. When the boy grew warm enough, he climbed slowly to his feet and trudged away. He never realized who or what had saved him.
Meanwhile, the dwarfs gathered around their charred brother whom they had known as Browny. A handful of glowing embers and a singed wooden head with sorrowful eyes was all that remained of him. The dwarfs pointed and chattered in their cold, wooden voices, "Why are your eyes so sad?"
"Because I pity you," the dying dwarf replied in a whisper. "But you will never understand that..."