"You can't give it to him," said Courage. "Do not try. You will only hurt yourself with his scythe."
But Happiness had already run up to the Inexorable.
"Shall I teach you how to smile, you serious youth? You seem to need it."
"Yes, I could use it, for all behold me unwillingly, and no one goes with me unless he is obliged, and it is because I cannot smile."
"Yes," said Happiness, and she grew quite timid; "but in order to teach you smiling, I must kiss you. That does not seem to me so hard, only your eyes terrify me."
"Then I will close them," said Death.
"No, no, you are so pale, I shall be still more afraid; and your scythe, too, is so sharp and cold."
"Then I will throw it from me."
And he threw his scythe far away; it grazed the trees as it fell. Then their golden foliage fell to earth, and all the branches grew bare, and as the scythe sank into the grass it grew covered with rime, and the flowers hung down their crowns.