(. ) ^ ro I
The Baldwin Librry
SThe Hardy Tin Soldier.
HARDY TIN SOLDIER.
AND OTHER STORIES.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.
H. W. DULCKEN, PH.D.
ILLUSTRATED WITH FOURTEEN PICTURES.
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
NEW YORK: 416 BROOME STREET.
THE HANS ANDERSEN LIBRARY
FOR THE YOUNG.
Crown, 8vo, Cloth Gilt, price Is. each.
c. THE RED SHOES. z6 Pictures.
a. THE SILVER SHILLING. 18 Pictures.
3. THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL. 16 Pictures.
4. THE DARNING-NEEDLE. 18 Pictures.
5. THE TINDER-BOX. I7 Pictures.
6. THE GOLOSIES OF FORTUNE. 3 Pictures.
7. THE MARSH KING'S DAUGHTER. .8
8. EVERYTHING IN ITS RIGHT PLACE.
9. TH WILD SWANS ro Pictures.
1o. UNDER THE WILLOW TREE. t4 Pictures.
TI. THE OLD CHURCH BELL. 14 Pictures.
a2. THE ICE MAIDEN. 9 Pictures.
S3. THE WILL-O'.THE-WISP. 19 Pictures.
t4. POULTRY MEG'S FAMILY. T Pictures.
:5. PUT OFF IS NOT DONE WITH. 16 Pictures.
16. THE SNOW MAN. 14 Pictures.
zy. IN SWEDEN. 16 Pictures.
18. THE SNOW QUEEN; r4 Pictures.
19. HARDY TIN SOLDIER. z4 Pictures.
so. WHAT THE GRASS-STALKS SAID. es
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS,
BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
NEW YORK: 416 BROOME STREET.
DALZIEL BSOTHBRS, CAI4MDE PRESS, LONDON, N.W
THE HARDY TIN SOLDIER I
THE TRAVELLING COMPANION 29
THE NAUGHTY BOY 65
THE JEWISH GIRL 70
THE MONEY-PIG .
WHAT ONE CAN INVENT 85
THE TOAD. 96
THE HARDY TIN SOLDIER.
HERE were once five and twenty tin sol-
diers; they were all brothers, for they had
all been born of one old tin spoon. They shouldered
their muskets, and looked straight before them:
their uniform was red and blue, and very splendid.
The first thing they had heard in the world, when
the lid was taken off their box, had been the words
"Tin soldiers !" These words were uttered by a
little boy, clapping his hands. The soldiers had
been given to him, for it was his birthday; and
now he put them upon the table. Each soldier was
exactly like the rest; but one of them had been
cast last of all, and there had not been enough tin
to finish him; but he stood as firmly upon his one
leg as the others on their two; and it was just this
Soldier who became remarkable.
On the table upon which they had been placed
stood many other playthings, but the toy that
attracted most attention was a neat castle of card-
'I I i I i
I N '
^ ~ ^ "! ^ "' ''! ^M IV^' yI
The Birthday Present of Rit Soldiers.
board. Through the little windows one could see
straight into the hall. Before the castle some
little trees were placed round a little looking-glass,
which was to represent a clear lake. Waxen swans
The Hardy Tin Soldier. 3
swam on this lake, and were mirrored in it. This
was all very pretty; but the prettiest of all was a
little lady, who stood at the open door of the castle :
she was als6 cut out in paper, but she had a dress
of the clearest gauze, and a little narrow blue
ribbon over her shoulders, that looked like a scarf;
and in the middle of this ribbon was a shining
tinsel rose as big as her whole face. The little lady
stretched out both her arms, for she was a dancer;
and then she lifted one leg so high that the Tin
Soldier could not see it at all, and thought that,
like himself, she had but one leg.
"That would be the wife for me," thought he;
" but she is very grand. She lives in a castle, and
I have only a box, and there are five and twenty of
us in that. It is no place for her. But I must
try to make acquaintance with her."
And then he lay down at full length behind a
snuff-box which was on the table; there he could
easily watch the little dainty lady, who continued
to stand on one leg without losing her balance.
When the evening had come, all the other tin
soldiers were put into their box, and the people in
the house went to bed. Now the toys began to
play at "visiting," and at "war," and "giving
balls." The tin soldiers rattled in their box, for
4 The Hardy Tin Soldier.
they wanted to join, but could not lift the lid.
The nutcraker threw somersaults, and the pencil
amused itself on the table: there was so much
noise that the canary woke up, and began to speak
too, and even in verse. The only two who did not
stir from their places were the Tin Soldier and the
dancing lady: she stood straight up on the point
of one of her toes, and stretched out both iher
arms; and he was just as enduring on his oneleg,
and he never turned his eyes away from her.
Now the clock struck twelve, and-bounce!-
the lid flew off the snuff-box; but there was not
snuff in it, but a little black Goblin: you see it was
"Tin Soldier !" said the Goblin, "don't stare
at things that don't concern you."
But the Tin Soldier pretended not to hear him.
Just you wait till to-morrow !" said the Goblin.
But when the morning came, and the children
got up, the Tin Soldier was placed in the window;
and whether it was the Goblin or the draught that
did it, all at once the window flew open, and the
soldier fell head over heels out of the third storey.
That was a terrible passage! He put his leg
straight up, and stuck with his helmet downwards
and his bayonet between the paving-stones.
The Hardy Tin Soldier. 5
The servant-maid and the little boy came down
directly to look for him, but though they almost
trod upon him they could not see him. If the
Soldier had cried out Here I am !" they would
have found him; but he did not think it fitting to
call out loudly, because he was in uniform.
Now it began to rain; the drops soon fell thicker,
and at last it came down in a complete stream.
When the rain was past, two street boys came by.
"Just look !" said one of them, "there lies a
tin soldier. He must come out and ride in the
And they made a boat out of a newspaper, and
put the Tin Soldier in the middle of it; and so he
sailed down the gutter, and the two boys ran beside
him and clapped their hands. Goodness preserve
us! how the waves rose in that gutter, and how
fast the stream ran But then it had been a heavy
rain The paper boat rocked up and down, and
sometimes turned round so rapidly that the Tin
Soldier trembled; but he remained firm, and never
changed countenance, and looked straight before
him, and shouldered his musket.
All at once the boat went into a long drain, and
it became as dark as if he had been in his box.
"Where am I going now ?" he thought. "Yes,
6 The Hardy Tin Soldier.
yes, that's the Goblin's fault. Ah if the little
lady only sat here with me in the boat, it might be
twice as dark for what I should care."
Suddenly there came a great Water Rat, which
lived under the drain.
Have you passport ?" said the Rat. Give
me your passport."
But the Tin Soldier kept silence, and held his
musket tighter than ever.
The boat went on, but the Rat came after it.
Hu! how he gnashed his teeth, and called out to
the bits of straw and wood,
Hold him hold him! he hasn't paid toll-he
hasn't shown his passport !"
But the stream became stronger and stronger.
The Tin Soldier could see the bright daylight where
the arch ended; but he heard a roaring noise,
which might well frighten a bolder man. Only
think.-Just where the tunnel ended, the drain ran
into a great canal; and for him that would have
been as dangerous as for us to be carried down a
Now he was already so near it that he could not
stop. The boat was carried out, the poor Tin Sol-
dier stiffening himself as much as he could, and
no one could say that he moved an eyelid. The
The Hardy Tin Soldier. 7
boat whirled round three or four times, and was full
of water to the very edge-it must sink. The Tin
Soldier stood up to his neck in water, and the boat
sank deeper and deeper, and the paper was loosened
more and more; and now the water closed over
the Soldier's head. Then he thought of the pretty
little dancer, and how he should never see her
again; and it sounded in the Soldier's ears:
"Farewell, farewell, thou warrior brave,
For this day thou must die!"
And now the paper parted, and the Tin Soldier
fell out; but at that moment he was snapped up by
a great fish.
Oh, how dark it was in that fish's body It
was darker yet than in the drain tunnel; and then
it was very narrow too. But the Tin Soldier re-
mained unmoved, and lay at full length shoulder-
ing his musket.
The fish swam to Ein fir.: lhe made the most
wonderful movements, and then became quite still.
At last something flashed through him like light-
ning. The daylight shone quite clear, and a voice
said aloud, "The Tin Soldier !" The fish had been
caught, carried to market, bought, and taken into
the kitchen, where the cook cut him open with a
large knife. She seized the Soldier round the body
8 The Hardy Tin Soldier.
with both her hands, and carried him into the room,
where all were anxious to see the remarkable man
who had travelled about in the inside of a fish; but
the Tin Soldier was not at all proud. They placed
him on the table, and there-no !-What curious
things may happen in the world! The Tin Soldier
was in the very room in which he had been before :
he saw the children, and the same toys stood on
the table; and there was the pretty castle with the
graceful little dancer. She was still balancing
herself on one leg, and held the other extended in
the air. She was hardy too. That moved the Tin
Soldier: he was very nearly weeping tin tears, but
that would not have been proper. He looked at
her, but they said nothing to each other.
Then one of the little boys took the Tin Soldier
and flung him into the stove. He gave no reason
for doing this. It must have been the fault of the
Goblin in the snuff-box.
The Tin Soldier stood there quite illuminated,
and felt a heat that was terrible; but whether this
heat proceeded from the real fire or from love he
did not know. The colours had quite gone off
from him; but whether that had happened on the
journey, or had been caused by grief, no one could
say. He looked at the little lady, she looked at
him, and he felt that he was melting; but he still
stood firm, shouldering his musket. Then suddenly
the door flew open, and the draught of air caught
the dancer, and she flew like a sylph just into the
stove to the Tin Soldier, and flashed up in a flame,
and she was gone. Then the Tin Soldier melted
down into a lump, and when the servant-maid
took the ashes out next day, she found him in the
shape of a little tin heart. But of the dancer
nothing remained but the tinsel rose, and that was
burned as black as -a coal.
HERE was once a woman who wished for a
very little child; but she did not know
where she should procure one. So she went to an
old witch, and said,
I do so very much wish for a little child; can
you not tell me where I can get one ?"
Oh that could easily be managed," said the
witch. There you have a barleycorn: that is
not of the kind which grows in the countryman's
field, and which the chickens get to eat. Put that
Thumbelina and the Toads,
into a flower-pot, and you shall see what you shall
"Thank you," said the woman; and she gave
the witch twelve shillings, for that is what it cost.
Then she went home and planted the barleycorn,
and immediately there grew up a great handsome
flower, which looked like a tulip; but the leaves
were tightly closed, as though it were still a bud.
That is a beautiful flower," said the woman;
and she kissed its yellow and red leaves. But just
as she kissed it, the flower opened with a pop. It
was a real tulip, as one could now see; but in the
middle of the flower there sat upon the green
velvet stamens a little maiden, delicate and grace-
ful to behold. She was scarcely half a thumb's
length in height, and therefore she was called
A neat polished walnut-shell served Thumbelina
for a cradle, blue violet-leaves were her mattresses,
with a rose-leaf for a coverlet. There she slept at
night; but in the day-time she played upon the
table, where the woman had put a plate with' a
wreath of flowers around it, whose stalks stood in
water; on the water swam a great tulip-leaf, and
on this the little maiden could sit, and row from
one side of the plate to the other, with two white
horse-hairs for oars. That looked pretty indeed !
She could also sing, and, indeed, so delicately and
sweetly, that the like had never been heard.
Once as she lay at night in her pretty bed, there
came an old Toad creeping through the window, in
which one pane was broken. The Toad was very
ugly, big, and damp: it hopped straight down upon
the table, where Thumbelina lay sleeping under the
"That would be a handsome wife for my son,"
said the Toad; and she took the walnut-shell in
which Thumbelina lay asleep, and hopped with it
through the window down into the garden.
There ran a great broad brook ; but the margin
was swampy and soft, and here the Toad dwelt with
her son. Ugh he was ugly, and looked just like
his mother. "Croak! croak! brek-kek-kex !" that
was all he could say when he saw the graceful little
maiden in the walnut-shell.
Don't speak so loud, or she will awake," said
the old Toad. She might run away from us, for
she is as light as a bit of swan's-down. We will
put her out in the brook upon one of the broad
water-lily leaves. That will be just like an island
for her, she is so small and light. Then she can't
get away, while we put the state room under the
marsh in order, where you are to live and keep
Out in the brook there grew many water-lilies
with broad green leaves, which looked as if they
were floating on the water. The leaf which lay
farthest out was also the greatest of all, and to that
the old Toad swam out and laid the walnut-shell
upon it with Thumbelina. The little tiny Thum-
beliha woke early in the morning, and when she
saw where she was, she began to cry very bitterly;
for there was water. on every side of the great
green leaf, and she could not get to land at all.
The old Toad sat down in the marsh decking out
her room with rushes and yellow weed-it was to
be made very pretty for the new daughter-in-law;
then she swam out, with her ugly son, to the leaf
on which Thumbelina was. They wanted to take
her pretty bed, which was to be put in the bridal
chamber before she went in there herself. The old
Toad bowed low before her in the water, and said,
Here is my son; he will be your husband, and
you will live splendidly together in the marsh."
"Croak croak brek-kek-kex!" was all the son
Then they took the delicate little bed, and swam
away with it; but Thumbelina sat all alone upon
the green leaf and wept, for she did not like to
live at the nasty Toad's, and have her ugly son for
her husband. The little fishes swimming in the
water below had both seen the Toad, and had also
heard what she said; therefore they stretched forth
their heads, for they wanted to see the little girl.
So soon as they saw her they considered her so
pretty that they felt very sorry she should have
to go down to the ugly Toad. No, that must never
be They assembled together in the water around
the green stalk which held the leaf on which the
little maiden stood, and with their teeth they
gnawed away the stalk, and so the leaf swam down
the stream; and away went Thumbelina far away,
where the Toad could not get at her.
Thumbelina sailed by many cities, and the little
birds which sat in the bushes saw her, and said,
" What a lovely little girl!" The leaf swam away
with them farther and farther; so Thumbelina
travelled out of the country.
A graceful little white butterfly always fluttered
round her, and at last alighted on the leaf. Thum-
belina pleased him, and she was very glad of this,
for now the Toad could not reach them; and it
was so beautiful where she was floating along-
the sun shone upon the water, and the water glis-
tened like the most splendid gold. She took her
girdle and bound one end of it round the butter-
fly, fastening the other end of the ribbon to the
leaf. The leaf now glided onward much faster,
and Thumbelina too, for she stood upon the leaf.
There came a big Cockchafer flying up; and he
saw her, and immediately clasped his claws round
her.slender waist, and flew with her up into a tree.
The green leaf went swimming down the brook,
and the butterfly with it, for he was fastened to
the leaf, and could not get away from it.
Mercy how frightened poor little Thumbelina
was when the Cockchafer flew with her up into
the tree. But especially she was sorry for the fine
white butterfly whom she had bound fast to the
leaf, for if he could not free himself from it, he
would be obliged to starve. The Cockchafer, how-
ever, did not trouble himself at all about this. He
seated himself with her upon the biggest green
leaf of the tree, gave her the sweet part of the
flowers to eat, and declared that she was very
pretty, though she did not in the least resemble a
cockchafer. Afterwards came all the other cock-
chafers who lived in the tree to pay a visit: they
looked at Thumbelina, and said,
"Why she has not even more than two legs !-
that has a wretched appearance."
She has not any feelers !" cried another.
Her waist is quite slender-fie! she looks like
a human creature-how ugly she is!" said all the
And yet Thumberlina was very pretty. Even
the Cockchafer who had carried her off saw that;
but when all the others declared she was ugly, he
believed it at last, and would not have her at all-
she might go whither she liked. Then they flew
down with her from the tree, and set her upon a
daisy, and she wept, because she was so ugly that
the cockchafers would have nothing to say to her;
and yet she was the loveliest little being one could
imagine, and as tender and delicate as a rose-leaf.
The whole summer through poor Thumbelina
lived quite alone in the great wood. She wove
herself a bed out of blades of grass, and hung it
up under a shamrock, so that she was protected
from the rain; she plucked the honey out of the
flowers for food, and drank of the dew which stood
every morning upon the leaves. Thus summer
and autumn passed away; but now came winter,
the cold long winter. All the birds who had sung
so sweetly before her flew away; trees and flowers
shed their leaves; the great shamrock under which
she had lived shrivelled up, and there remained
nothing of it but a yellow withered stalk; and she
was dreadfully cold, for her clothes were torn, and
she herself was so frail and delicate poor little
Thumbelina she was nearly frozen. It began to
snow, and every snow-flake that fell upon her was
like a whole shovel-full thrown upon one of us,
for we are tall, and she was only an inch long.
Then she wrapped herself in a dry leaf, and that
tore in the middle, and would not warm her-she
shivered with cold.
Close to the wood into which she had now come
lay a great corn-field, but the corn was gone long
ago; only the naked dry stubble stood up out of
the frozen ground. These were just like a great
forest for her to wander through; and, oh! how
she trembled with cold. Then she arrived at the
door of the Field Mouse. This Mouse had a little
hole under the stubble. There the Field Mouse
lived, warm and comfortable, and had a whole
room-full of corn-a glorious kitchen and larder.
Poor Thumbelina stood at the door just like a
poor beggar girl, and begged for a little bit of a
barleycorn, for she had not had the smallest morsel
to eat for the last two days.
"You poor little creature," said the Field
Mouse -for after all she was a good old Field
Mouse come into my warm room and dine
As she was pleased with Thumbelina, she said,
"If you like you may stay with me through the
winter, but you must keep my room clean and
neat, and tell me little stories, for I am very fond
And Thumbelina did as the kind old Field Mouse
bade her, and had a very good time of it.
Now we shall soon have a visitor," said the
Field Mouse. "My neighbour is in the habit of
visiting me once a week. He is even better off than
I am, has great rooms, and a beautiful black velvety
fur. If you could only get him for your husband
you would be well provided for. You must tell
him the prettiest stories you know."
But Thumbelina did not care about this; she
thought nothing of the neighbour, for he was a
Mole. He came and paid his visits in his black
velvet coat. The Field Mouse told how rich and
how learned he was, and how his house was more
than twenty times larger than hers; that he had
learning, but that he did not like the sun and beau-
tiful flowers, for he had never seen them.
Thumbelina had to sing, and she sang Cock-
chafer, fly away," and "When the parson goes
afield." Then the Mole fell in love with her, be-
cause of her delicious voice; but he said nothing,
for he was a sedate man.
A short time before, he had dug a long passage
through the earth from his own house to theirs;
and Thumbelina and the Field Mouse obtained
leave to walk in this passage as much as they
wished. But he begged them not to be afraid of
the dead bird which was lying in the passage. It
was an entire bird, with wings and a beak. It
certainly must have died only a short time before,
and was now buried just where the Mole had made
The Mole took a bit of decayed wood in his
mouth, and it glimmered like fire in the dark;
and then he went first and lighted them through
the long dark passage. When they came where the
dead bird lay, the Mole thrust up his broad nose
against the ceiling, so that a great hole was made,
through which the daylight could shine down. In
the middle of the floor lay a dead Swallow, his
beautiful wings pressed close against his sides, and
his head and feet drawn back under his feathers:
the poor bird had certainly died of cold. Thumbe-
lina was very sorry for this; she was very fond of
all the little birds, who had sung and twittered so
prettily before her through the summer; but the
Mole gave him a push with his short legs, and said,
"Now he doesn't pipe any more. It must be
miserable to be born a little bird. I'm thankful
that none of my children can be that: such a bird
20 T: "
has nothing but his tweet-tweet,' and has to starve
-in the winter !"
"Yes, you may well say that, as a clever man,"
observed the Field Mouse. Of what use is all
this 'tweet-tweet' to a bird when the winter comes?
He must starve and freeze. But they say that's
Thumbelina said nothing; but when the two
others turned their backs on the bird, she bent
down, put the feathers aside which covered his
head, and kissed him upon his closed eyes.
"Perhaps it was he who sang so prettily before
me in the summer," she thought. How much
pleasure he gave me, the dear beautiful bird "
The Mole now closed up the hole through wnich
the daylight shone in, and accompanied the ladies
home. But at night Thumbelina could not sleep
at all; so she got up out of her bed, and wove, a
large beautiful carpet of hay, and carried it and
spread it over the dead bird, and laid the thin
stamens of flowers, soft as cotton, and which she
had found in the Field Mouse's room, at the bird's
sides, so that he might lie soft in the ground.
"Farewell, you pretty little bird!" said she.
"Farewell! and thanks to you for your beautiful
song in the summer, when all the trees were green,
and the sun shone down warmly upon us." And
then she laid the bird's head upon her heart. But
the bird was not dead; he was only lying there
torpid with cold; and now he had been warmed,
and came to life again.
In autumn all the swallows fly away to warm
countries; but if one happens to be belated, it be-
comes so cold that it falls down as if dead, and lies
where it fell, and then the cold snow covers it.
Thumbelina fairly trembled, she was so startled;
for the bird was large, very large, compared with
her, who was only an inch in height. But she
took courage, laid the cotton closer round the poor
bird, and brought a leaf that she had used as her
own coverlet, and laid it over the bird's head.
The next night she crept out to him again-and
now he was alive, but quite weak; he could only
open his eyes for a moment, and look at Thumbe-
lina, who stood before him with a bit of decayed
wood in her hand, for she had not a lantern.
I thank you, you pretty little child," said the
sick Swallow; "I have been famously warmed.
Soon I shall get ry strength back again, and
I shall be able to fly about in the warm sun-
Oh," she said, it is so cold without. It snows
and freezes. Stay in your warm bed, and I will
Then she brought the Swallow water in the petal
of a flower; and the Swallow drank, and told her
how he had torn one of his wings in a thorn bush,
and thus had not been able to fly so fast as the
other swallows, which had sped away, far away, to
the warm countries. So at last he had fallen to
the ground, but he could remember nothing more,
and did not know at all how he had come where
she had found him.
The whole winter the Swallow remained there,
and Thumbelina nursed and tended him heartily.
Neither the Field Mouse nor the Mole heard any-
thing about it, for they did not like the poor
Swallow. So soon as the spring came, and the
sun warmed the earth, the Swallow bade Thumbe-
lina farewell, and she opened the hole which the
Mole had made in the ceiling. The sun shone in
upon them gloriously, and the Swallow asked if
Thumbelina would go with him; she could sit
upon his back, and they would fly away far into
the greenwood. But Thumbelina kiiew that the
old Field Mouse would be grieved if she left her.
"No, I cannot," said Thumbelina.
"Farewell, farewell, you good, pretty girl!"
said the Swallow; and he flew out into the sun-
shine. Thumbelina looked up after him, and the
tears came into her eyes, for she was heartily fond
of the poor Swallow.
"Tweet-weet tweet-weet sang the bird, and
flew into the green forest. Thumbelina felt very
sad. She did not get permission to go out into
the warm sunshine. The corn which was sown in
the field over the house of the Field Mouse grew
up high into the air; it was quite a thick wood
for the poor girl, who was only an inch in height.
"You are betrothed now, Thumbelina," said
the Field Mouse. My neighbour has proposed
for you. What great fortune for a poor child like
you! Now you must work at your outfit, woollen
and linen clothes both, for you must lack nothing
when you have become the Mole's wife."
Thumbelina had to turn the spindle, and the
Mole hired four spiders to weave for her day and
night. Every evening the Mole paid her a visit;
and he was always saying that when the summer
should draw to a close, the sun would not shine
nearly so hot, for that now it burned the earth
almost as hard as a stone. Yes, when the summer
should have gone, then he would keep his wedding
day with Thumbelina. But she was not glad at
all, for she did not like the tiresome Mole. Every
morning when the sun rose, and every evening
when it went down, she crept out at the door, and
when the wind blew the corn ears apart, so that
she could see the blue sky, she thought how bright
and beautiful it was out here, and wished heartily
to see her dear Swallow again. But the Swallow
did not come back; he had doubtless flown far
avway into the fair green forest. When autumn
came on, Thumbelina had all her outfit ready.
"In four weeks you shall celebrate your wed-
ding," said the Field Mouse to her.
But Thumbelina wept, and declared she would
not have the tiresome Mole.
"Nonsense," said the Field Mouse. "Don't
be obstinate, or I will bite you with my white
teeth. He is a very fine man whom you will
marry. The Queen herself has not such a black
velvet fur; and his kitchen and cellar are full.
Be thankful for your good fortune."
Now the wedding was to be held. The Mole
had already come to fetch Thumbelina: she was
to live with him, deep under the earth, and never
to come out into the warm sunshine, for that he
did not like. The poor little thing was very
sorrowful; she was now to say farewell to the
glorious sun, which, after all, she had been allowed
by the Field Mouse to see from the threshold of
Farewell, thou bright sun !" she said, and
stretched out her arms towards it, and walked a
little way forth from the house of the Field Mouse,
for now the corn had been reaped, and only the
dry stubble stood in the fields. "Farewell !" she
repeated, twining her arms round a little red
flower which still bloomed there. Greet the
little Swallow from me, if you see her again."
"Tweet-weet tweet-weet!" a voice suddenly
sounded over her head. She looked up; it was
the little Swallow, who was just flying by. When
he saw Thumbelina he was very glad; and Thum-
belina told him how loth she was to have the ugly
Mole for her husband, and that she was to live
deep under the earth, where the sun never shone.
And she could not refrain from weeping.
"The cold winter is coming now," said the
Swallow. "I am going to fly far away into the
warm countries. -Will you come .with me? You
can sit upon my back, then we shall fly from the
ugly Mole and his dark room-away, far away,
over the mountains, to the warm countries, where
the sun shines warmer than here, where it is
always summer, and there are lovely flowers.
Only fly with me, you dear little Thumbelina,
you who have saved my life when I lay frozen in
the dark earthy passage."
"Yes, I will go with you," said Thumbelina;
and she seated herself on the bird's back, with her
feet on his outspread wing, and bound her girdle
fast to one of his strongest feathers; then the
Swallow flew up into the air over forest and over
sea, high up over the great mountains, where the
snow always lies; and Thumbelina felt cold in the
bleak air, but then she hid under the bird's warm
feathers, and only put out her little head to see
and admire all the beauties beneath her.
At last they came to the warm countries. There
the sun shone far brighter than here; the sky
seemed twice as high; and in ditches and on the
hedges grew the most beautiful blue and green
grapes; lemons and oranges hung in the woods;
the air was fi'.grt. with myrtles and balsams;
and on.the roads the loveliest children ran about,
playing with great gay butterflies. But the Swal-
low flew still farther, and it became more and
more beautiful. Under the most glorious green
trees, by the blue lake, stood a palace of dazzling
white marble, from the olden time. Vines clus-
tered around the lofty pillars; at the top were
many swallows' nests, and in one of these the
Swallow lived who carried Thumbelina.
That is my house," said the Swallow; but it
is not right that you should live there. It is not
yet properly arranged by a great deal, and you will
not be content with it. Select for yourself one of
the splendid flowers which grow down yonder, then
I will put you into it, and you shall have every-
thing as nice as you can wish."
"That is capital," cried she, and clapped her
A great marble pillar lay there, which had fallen
to the ground and had been broken into three
pieces; but between these pieces grew the most
beautiful great white flowers. The Swallow flew
down with Thumbelina, and set her upon one of
the broad leaves. But what was the little maid's
surprise ? There sat a little man in the midst of the
flower, as white and transparent as if he had been
made of glass : he wore the neatest gold crown on
his head, and the brightest wings on his shoulders:
he himself was not bigger than Thumbelina. He
was the angel of the flower. In each of the flowers
dwelt such a little man or woman, but this one
was king over them all.
Heavens how beautiful he is! whispered
Thumbelina to the Swallow.
The little prince was very much frightened at the
Swallow; for it was quite a gigantic bird to him,
who was so small. But when he saw Thumbelina,
he became very glad; she was the prettiest maiden
he had ever seen. Therefore he took off his golden
crown, and put it upon her, asked her name, and
if she would be his wvi;., and then she should be
queen of all the flowers. Now this was truly a dif-
ferent kind of man to the son of the Toad, and
the Mole with the black velvet fur. She therefore
said "Yes" to the charming prince. And out of
every flower came a lady or a lord, so pretty to
behold that it was a delight: each one brought
Thumbelina present; but the best gift was a pair
of beautiful wings which had belonged to a great
white fly; these were fastened to Thumbelina's
back, and now she could fly from flower to flower.
Then there was much rejoicing; and the little
Swallow sat above them in his nest, and was to
sing the marriage song, which he accordingly did
as well as he could; but yet in his heart he was
sad, for he was so fond, oh! so fond of Thumbe-
lina, and would have liked never to part from her.
"You shall not be called Thumbelina," said
The Travelling Companion. 29
the Flower Angel to her; that is an ugly name,
and you are too fair for it-we will call you Maia."
"Farewell, farewell!" said the little Swallow,
with a heavy, heavy heart; and she flew away
again from the warm countries, far away back to
Denmark. There she had a little nest over the
window of the man who can tell fairy tales. Be-
fore him he sang, Tweet-weet! tweet-weet !"
and from him we have the whole story.
THE TRAVELLING COMPANION.
01R JOHN was in great tribulation, for
his father was very ill, and could not get
well again. Except these two, there was no one
at all in the little room: the lamp on the table was
nearly extinguished, and it was quite late in the
"You have been a good son, John," said the
sick father. "Providence will help you through
the world. And he looked at him with mild
30 The Travelling Companion.
earnest eyes, drew a deep breath, and died: it was
just as if he slept. But John wept, for now he
had no one in the world, neither father nor mother,
neither sister nor brother. Poor John! He lay
John at the Death-bed of his Father.
on his knees before the bed, kissed his dead father's
hand, and shed very many bitter tears; but at last
his eyes closed, and he went to sleep, lying with
his head against the hard bed-post.
Then he dreamed a strange dream: he saw the
The /Tr,..:.,g Companion. 31
sun and moon shine upon him, and he beheld his
father again fresh and well, and he heard his father
laugh as he had always laughed when he was very
glad. A beautiful girl, with a golden crown upon
her long shining hair, gave him her hand, and his
father said, "Do you see what a bride you have
gained? She is the most beautiful in the whole
world !" Then he awoke, and all the splendour
was gone. His father was lying dead and cold in
the bed, and there was no one at all with them.
Poor John !
In the next week the dead man was buried.
The son walked close behind the coffin, and could
now no longer see the good father who had loved
him so much. He heard how they threw the earth
down upon the coffin, and stopped to see the last
corner of it; but the next shovel-full of earth hid
even that: then he felt just as if his heart would
burst into pieces, so sorrowful was he. Around
him they were singing a psalm; those were sweet
holy tones that arose, and the tears came into
John's eyes; he wept, and that did him good in
his sorrow. The sun shone magnificently on the
green trees, just as if it would have said, "You
may no longer be sorrowful, John! Do you see
how beautiful the sky is? Your father is up there,
32 The Travelling Companion.
and prays to the Father of all that it may always
be well with you."
S"I will always do right, too," said John, "then
I shall go to heaven to my father; and what joy
that will be when we see each other again! How
much I shall then have to tell him and he will
show me so many things, and explain to me the
glories of heaven, just as he taught me here on
earth. Oh, how joyful that will be "
He pictured that to himself so plainly, that he
smiled, while the tears were still rolling down his
cheeks. The little birds sat up in the chestnut
trees, and twittered, Tweet-weet tweet-weet !"
They were joyful and merry, though they had
been at the burying; but they seemed to know that
the dead man was now in heaven; that he had
wings, far larger and more beautiful than theirs;
that he was now happy, because he had been good
upon earth, and they were rejoiced at it. John
saw how they flew from the green tree out into
the world, and he felt inclined to fly too. But
first he cut out a great cross of wood to put on
his father's grave; and when he brought it there
in the evening the grave was decked with sand and
flowers: strangers had done this, for they were all
very fond of the good father who was now dead.
The Travelling Companion. 33
Early next morning John packed up his little
bundle, and put in his belt his whole inheritance,
which consisted of fifty dollars and a few silver
shillings; with this he intended to wander out
into the world. But first he went to the church-
yard, to his father's grave, to say a prayer and to
bid him farewell.
Out in the field where he was walking all the
flowers stood fresh and beautiful in the warm sun-
.shine; and they nodded in the wind, just as if
they would have said, Welcome to the green
wood! Is it not fine here ?" But John turned
back once more to look at the old church, in which
he had been christened when he was a little child,
and where he had been every Sunday with his
father at the service, and had sung his psalm; then
high up in one of the openings of the tower he
saw the ringer standing in his little pointed re&
cap, shading his face with his bent arm to keep
the sun from shining in his eyes. John nodded a
farewell to him, and the little ringer waved his
red cap, laid his hand on his heart, and kissed his
hand to John a great many times, to show that he
wished the traveller well and hoped he would have
a prosperous journey.
John thought what a number of fine things he
34 The Travelling Companion.
would get to see in the great splendid world; and
he went on farther-farther than he had ever been
before. He did not know the places at all through
which he came, nor the people whom he met. Now
he was far away in a strange region.
The first night he was obliged to lie down on a
haystack in the field to sleep, for he had no other
bed. But that was very nice, he thought; the King
could not be better off. There was the whole field,
with the brook, the haystack, and the blue sky
above it; that was certainly a beautiful sleeping-
room. The green grass with the little red and
white flowers was the carpet; the elder bushes
and the wild rose hedges were garlands of flowers,
and for a wash-hand basin he had the whole brook
with the clear fresh water; and the rushes bowed
before him and wished him good evening" and
"good morning." The moon was certainly a great
night-lamp, high up under the blue ceiling, and
that lamp would never set fire to the curtains with
its light. John could sleep quite safely, and he
did so, and never woke until the sun rose and all
the little birds were singing around," Good morn-
ing! good morning! Are you not up yet ? "
The bells were ringing for church; it was Sun-
day, The people went to hear the preacher, and
The Travelling Companion. 35
John followed them, and sang a psalm and heard
God's word. It seemed to him just as if he was
in his own church where he had been christened
and had sung psalms with his father.
Out in the churchyard were many graves, and
on some of them the grass grew high. Then he
thought of his father's grave, which would at last
look like these, as he could not weed it and adorn
it. So he sat down and plucked up the long grass,
set up the wooden crosses which had fallen down,
and put back in their places the wreaths which the
wind had blown away from the graves; for he
thought, "Perhaps some one will do the same to
my father's grave, as I cannot do it."
Outside the churchyard gate stood an old beggar
leaning on his crutch. John gave him the silver
shillings which he had, and then went away happy
and cheerful into the wide world. Towards even-
ing the weather became terribly bad. He made
haste to get under shelter, but dark night soon
came on; then at last he came to a little church,
which lay quite solitary on a small hill.
"Here I will sit down in a corner," said he,
and went in. "I am quite tired and require a
Then he sat down, folded his hands, and said his
36 The Travelling Companion.
evening prayer; and before he was aware of it he
was asleep and dreaming, while it thundered and
When he awoke it was midnight, but the bad
weather had passed by, and the moon shone in
upon him through the windows. In the midst of
the church stood an open coffin, with a dead man
in it who had not yet been buried. John was not
at all timid, for he had a good conscience, and he
knew very well that the dead do not harm any
one. The living who do evil are bad men. Two
such living bad men stood close by the dead man,
who had been placed here in the church till he
should be buried. They had an evil design against
him, and would not let him rest quietly in his
coffin, but were going to throw him out before the
church door, the poor dead man!
"Why will you do that ?" asked John. "That
is bad and wicked. Let him rest, for mercy's
"Nonsense replied the two bad men. "He
has cheated us. He owed us money and could not
pay it, and now he's dead into the bargain, and
we shall not get a penny Sowe mean to revenge
ourselves famously: he shall lie like a dog outside
the church door."
The Travelling Companion. 37
"I have not more than fifty dollars," cried John,
"that is my whole inheritance; but I will gladly
give it you, if you will honestly promise me to
leave the poor dead man in peace. I shall manage
to get on without the money; I have hearty strong
limbs, and Heaven will always help me."
"Yes," said these ugly bad men, "if you will
pay his debt we will do nothing to him, you may
depend upon that."
And then they took the money he gave them,
laughed aloud at his good. nature, and went their
way. But he laid the corpse out again in the coffin,
and folded its hands, took leave of it, and went away
contentedly through the great forest.
All around, wherever the moon could shine
through between the trees, he saw the graceful
little elves playing merrily. They did not let him
disturb them; they knew that he was a good in-
nocent man; and it is only the bad people who
never get to see the elves. Some of them were
not larger than a finger's breadth, and had fast-
ened their long yellow hair with golden combs :
they were rocking themselves, two and two, on the
great dew-drops that lay on the leaves and on the
high grass; sometimes the drop rolled away, and
then they fell down between the long grass-stalks,
38 The Travelling Companon.
which occasioned much laughter and noise among
the other little creatures. It was charming. They
sang, and John recognized quite plainly the pretty
songs which he had learned as a little boy. Great
coloured spiders, with silver crowns on their heads,
had to spin long hanging bridges and palaces from
hedge to hedge; and as the tiny dew-drops fell on
these they looked like gleaming glass in the moon-
light. This continued until the sun rose. Then
the little elves crept into the flower-buds, and the
wind caught their bridges and palaces, which flew
through the air in the shape of spiders' webs.
John had just come out of the wood when a
strong man's voice called out behind him,
"Hallo, friend! whither are you journeying?"
Into the wide world !" he replied. I have
neither father nor mother, and am but a poor lad ;
but Providence will help me."
I am going out into the wide world, too," said
the strange man : "shall we two keep one another
Yes, certainly," said John; and so they went
on together. Soon they became very fond of each
other, for they were both good men. But John
saw that the stranger was much more clever than
himself. He had travelled through almost the
The Travelling Companion. 39
whole world, and knew how to tell of almost every.
thing that existed.
The sun already stood high when they seated
themselves under a great tree to eat their break-
fast; and just then an old woman came up. Oh,
she was very old, and walked quite bent, leaning
upon a crutch-stick; upon her back she carried a
bundle of firewood which she had collected in the
forest. Her apron was untied, and John saw that
three great stalks of fern and some willow twigs
looked out from within it. When she was close to
them, her foot slipped; she fell and gave a loud
scream, for she had broken her leg, the poor old
John directly proposed that they should carry
the old woman home to her dwelling; but the
stranger openedhis knapsack, took out a little box,
and said that he had a salve there which, would
immediately make her leg whole and strong, so
that she could walk home herself, as if she had
never broken her leg at all. But for that he re-
quired that she should give him the three rods
which she carried in her apron.
"That would be paying well !" said the old
woman, and she nodded her head in a strange way.
She did not like to give away the rods, but then it
40 The Travelling Companion.
was not agreeable to lie there with a broken leg.
So she gave him the wands; and as soon as he
had only rubbed the ointment on her leg, the old
mother arose, and walked much better than before
-such was the power of this ointment. But then
it was not to be bought at the chemist's.
"What do you want with the rods?" John
asked his travelling companion.
They are three capital fern brooms," replied
he. I like those very much, for I am a whim-
And they went on a good way.
See how the sky is becoming overcast," said
John, pointing straight before them. Those are
terribly thick clouds."
"No," replied his travelling companion, "those
are not clouds, they are mountains-the great glo-
rious mountains, on which one gets quite up over
the clouds, and into the free air. Believe me, it is
delicious! To-morrow we shall certainly, be far
out into the world."
But that was not so near as it looked; they had
to walk for a whole day before they came to the
mountains, where the black woods grew straight
up towards heaven, and there were stones almost
as big as a whole town. It might certainly be
The Travelling Companion. 41
hard work to get quite across them, and for that
reason John and his comrade went into the inn to
rest themselves well, and gather strength for the
Down in the great common room of the inn
many guests were assembled, for a man was there
exhibiting a puppet-show. He had just put up his
little theatre, and the people were sitting round to
see the play. Quite in front a fat butcher had
taken his seat in the very best place; his great
bulldog, who looked very much inclined to bite,
sat at his side, and made big eyes, as all the rest
were doing too.
Now the play began; and it was a very nice
play, with a king and a queen in it; they sat upon
a beautiful throne, and had gold crowns on their
heads and long trains to their clothes, for their
means admitted of that. The prettiest of wooden
dolls with glass eyes and great moustaches stood
at all the doors, and opened and shut them so that
fresh air might come into the room. It was a very
pleasant play, and not at all mournful. But-
goodness knows what the big bulldog can have
been thinking of !-just as the queen stood up and
was walking across the boards, as the fat butcher
did not hold him, he made a spring upon the stage,
42 The Travelling Companion.
and seized the queen round her slender waist so
that it cracked again. It was quite terrible !
The poor man who managed the play was very
much frightened and quite sorrowful about his
queen, for she was the daintiest doll he possessed,
The Bulldog worries the Puppet.
and now the ugly bulldog had bitten off her head.
But afterwards, when the people went away, the
stranger said that he would soon put her to rights
again; and then he brought out his little box, and
rubbed the doll with the ointment with which he
had cured the old woman when she broke her leg.
As soon as the doll had been rubbed, she was whole
The Travelling Companion. 43
again; yes, she could even move all her limbs by
herself; it was no longer necessary to pull her by
her string. The doll was like a living person, only
that she could not speak. The man who had the
little puppet-show was very glad, now he had not
to hold this doll any more. She could dance by
herself, and none of the others could do that.
When night came on, and all the people in the
inn had gone to bed, there was some one who
sighed so fearfully, and went on doing it so long,
that they all got up to see who this could be. The
man who had shown the play went to his little
theatre, for it was there that somebody was sighing.
All the wooden dolls lay mixed together, the
king and all his followers; and it was they who
sighed so pitiably, and stared with their glass eyes,
for they wished to be rubbed a little as the queen
had been, so that they might be able to move by
themselves. The queen at once sank on her knees,
and stretched forth her beautiful crown, as if she
begged, Take this from me, but rub my husband
and my courtiers !" Then the poor man, the pro-
prietor of the theatre and the dolls, could not
refrain from weeping, for he was really sorry for
them. He immediately promised the travelling
companion that he would give him all the money
44 The Travelling Companion.
he should receive the next evening for the repre-
sentation if the latter would only anoint four or
five of his dolls. But the comrade said he did
not require anything at all but the sword the
man wore by his side; and, on receiving this, he
anointed six of the dolls, who immediately began
to dance so gracefully that all the girls, the living
human girls, fell a dancing too. The coachman
and the cook danced, the waiter and the chamber-
maid, and all the strangers, and the fire-shovel
and tongs; but these latter fell down just as
they made their first leaps. Yes, it was a merry
Next morning John went away from them all
with his travelling companion, up on to the high
mountains, and through the great pine woods.
They came so high up that the church steeples
under them looked at last like little blueberries
among all the green; and they could see very far,
many, many miles away, where they had never
been. So much splendour in the lovely world
John had never seen at one time before. And the
sun shone warm in the fresh blue air, and among
the mountains he could hear the huntsmen blow-
ing their horns so gaily and sweetly that tears
came into his eyes, and he could not help calling
The Travelling Companion. 45
out, How kind has Heaven been to us all, to
give us all the splendour that is in this world !'
The travelling companion also stood there with
folded hands, and looked over the forest and the
towns into the warm sunshine. At the same time
there arose lovely sounds over their heads: they
looked up, and a great white swan was soaring in
the air, and singing as they had never heard a
bird sing till then. But the song became weaker
and weaker; he bowed his head and sank quite
slowly down at their feet, where he lay dead, the
Two such splendid wings," said the travelling
companion, "so white and large, as those which
this bird has, are worth money; I will take them
with me. Do you see that it was good I got a
And so, with one blow, he cut off both the wings
of the dead swan, for he wanted to keep them.
They now travelled for many, many miles over
the mountains, till at last they saw a great town
before them with hundreds of towers, which glit-
tered like silver in the sun. In the midst of the
town was a splendid marble palace, roofed with
pure red gold. And there the King lived.
John and the travelling companion would not
46 The Travelling Companion.
go into the town at once, but remained in the inn
outside the gates, that they might dress them-
selves; for they wished to look nice when they
came out into the streets. The host told them
that the King was a very good man, who never
did harm to any one; but his daughter, yes, good-
ness preserve us! she was a bad Princess. She
possessed the most exquisite beauty-no one could
be so pretty and so charming as she was-but of
what use was that? She was a wicked witch,
through whose fault many gallant Princes had lost
their lives. She had given permission to all men
to seek her hand. Any one might come, be he
Prince or beggar: it was all the same to her. He
had only to guess three things she had just thought
of, and about which she questioned him. If he
could do that she would marry him, and he was
to be King over the whole country when her old
father should die; but if he could not guess the
three things, she caused him to be hanged or to
have his head cut off! Her father, the old King,
was very sorry about it; but he could not forbid
her to be so wicked, because he had once said that
he would have nothing to do with her lovers; she
might do as she liked. Every time a Prince came,
and was to guess to gain the Princess, he was
The Travelling Companion. 47
unable to do it, and was hanged or lost his head.
He had been warned in time, you see, and might
have given over his wooing. The old King was
so sorry for all this misery and woe, that he used
to lie on his knees with all his soldiers for a whole
day in every year, praying that the Princess might
become good; but she would not, by any means.
The old women who drank brandy used to colour
it quite black before they drank it, they were in
such deep mourning-and they certainly could not
"The ugly Princess! said John; "she ought
really to have the rod; that would do her good.
If I were only the old King she should be well
Then they heard the people outside shouting
"Hurrah! The Princess came by; and she was
really so beautiful that all the people forgot how
wicked she was, and that is the reason they cried
Hurrah! Twelve beautiful virgins, all in white
silk gowns, and each with a golden tulip in her
hand, rode on coal-black steeds at her side. The
Princess herself rode on a noble snow-white horse,
decked with diamond and rubies. Her riding-
habit was all cloth of gold, and the whip she held
in her hand looked like a sunbeam; the golden
John and M7is Companion see the Princess riding Inj.
crown on her head was just like little stars out of
the sky; and her mantle was sewn together out of
more than a thousand beautiful butterflies' wings.
In spite of this, she herself was much more lovely
than all her clothes.
When John saw her, his face became as red as
a drop of blood, and he could hardly utter a word.
The Princess looked just like the beautiful lady
with the golden crown, of whom he had dreamed
The Travelling Companion. 49
on the night when his father died. He found her
so enchanting that he could not help loving her
greatly. It could not be true that she was a wicked
witch, who caused people to be beheaded or hanged
if they could not guess the riddles she put to them.
Every one has her permission to aspire to her
hand, even the poorest beggar. I will really go
to the castle, for I cannot help doing it "
They all told him not to attempt it, for certainly
he would fare as all the rest had done. His travel-
ling companion too tried to dissuade him; but
John thought it would end well. He brushed his
shoes and his coat, washed his face and his hands,
combed his nice fair 'hair, and then went quite
alone into the town and to the palace.
"Come in!" said the old King, when John
knocked at the door.
John opened it, and the old King came towards
him in a dressing-gown and embroidered slippers;
he had the crown on his head, and the sceptre in
one hand and the orb in the other.
Wait a little said he, and put the orb under
his arm, so that he could reach out his hand to
John. But as soon as he learned that his visitor
was a suitor, he began to weep so violently that
both the sceptre and the orb fell to the ground.
50 The Travelling Companion.
and he was obliged to wipe his eves with his dress-
ing-gown. Poor old King!
Give it up said he. You will fare badly,
just as all the others have done. Well, you shall
Then he led him out into the Princess's pleasure
garden. There was a terrible sight! In every
tree there hung three or four Kings' sons who
had wooed the Princesss, but had not been able
to guess the riddles she proposed to them. Each
time that the breeze blew all the skeletons rattled,
so that the little birds were frightened, and never
dared to come into the garden. All the flowers
were tied up to human bones, and in the flower-
pots skulls stood and grinned. That was certainly
a strange garden for a Princess.
Here you see it," said the old King. "It will
chance to you as it has chanced to all these whom
you see here; therefore you had better give it up.
You will really make me unhappy, for I take these
things very much to heart i "
John kissed the good old King's hand, and said
it would go well, for that he was quite enchanted
with the beautiful Princess.
Then the Princess herself came riding into the
courtyard with all her ladies; and they went out
The Travelling Companion. 51
to her and wished her good morning. She was
beautiful to look at, and she gave John her hand.
And he cared much more for her then than before.
She could certainly not be a wicked witch, as the
people asserted. Then they betook themselves to
the hall, and the little pages waited upon them
with preserves and gingerbread huts. But the old
King was quite sorrowful; he could not eat any-
thing at all. Besides, the gingerbread nuts were
too hard for him.
It was settled that John should come to the
palace again the next morning; then the judges
and the whole council would be assembled, and
would hear how he succeeded with his answers.
If it went well, he should come twice more; but
no one had yet come who had succeeded in guess-
ing right the first time; and if he did not manage
better than they, he must die.
John was not at all anxious as to how he should
fare. On the contrary, he was merry, thought
only of the beautiful Princess, and felt quite cer-
tain that he should be helped. But how he did
not know, and preferred not to think of it. He
danced along on the road returning to the inn,
where his travelling companion was waiting for
52 The Travelling Companion.
John could not leave off telling how polite the
Princess had been to him, and how beautiful she
was. He declared he already longed for the next
day, when he was to go into the palace and try his
luck in guessing.
But the travelling companion shook his head
and was quite downcast.
I am so fond of you !" said he. We might
have been together a long time yet, and now I
am already to lose you! You poor dear John,
I should like to cry, but I will not disturb your
merriment on the last evening, perhaps, we shall
ever spend together. We will now be merry, very
merry. To-morrow, when you are gone, I can
All the people in the town had heard directly
that a new suitor for the Princess had arrived,
and there was great sorrow on that account. The
theatre remained closed, the women who sold cakes
tied bits of crape round their sugar men, and the
King and the priests were on their knees in the
churches. There was great lamentation; for John
would not, they all thought, fare better than the
other suitors had fared.
Towards evening the travelling companion mixed
a great bowl of punch, and said to John,
The Travelling Companion. 53
"Now we will be very merry, and drink to the
health of the Princess."
But when John had drunk two glasses, he be-
came so sleepy that he found it impossible to keep
his eyes open, and he sank into a deep, heavy
sleep. The travelling companion lifted him very
gently from his chair and laid him in the bed;
and when it grew to be dark night, he took the
two great wings which he had cut off the swan,
and bound them to his own shoulders. Then he
put in his pocket the longest of the rods he had
received from the old woman who had fallen and
broken her leg; and he opened the window and
flew away over the town, straight towards the
palace, where he seated himself in a corner under
the window which looked into the bed-room of
All was quiet through the whole town. Now the
clock struck a quarter to twelve, the window was
opened, and the Princess came out in a long white
cloak, and with black wings, and flew away across
the town to a great mountain. But the travelling
companion made himself invisible, so that she
could not see him at all, and flew behind her, and
whipped the Princess with his rod, so that the
blood almost came wherever he struck. Oh, that
54 The Travelling Companion.
was a voyage through the air The wind caught
her cloak, so that it spread out on all sides like a
great sail, and the moon shone through it.
"How it hails how it hails said the Princess
at every blow she got from the rod; and it served
her right. At last she arrived at the mountain,
and knocked there. There was a loud rolling like
thunder, and the mountain opened, and the Prin-
cess went in. The travelling companion followed
her, for no one could see him-he was invisible.
They went through a great long passage, where
the walls shone in quite a peculiar way; there
were above a thousand glowing spiders, running
up and down the walls and gleaming like fire.
Then they came into a great hall, built of silver
and gold; flowers as big as sunflowers, red and
blue, shone on the walls; but no one could pluck
these flowers, for the stems were ugly poisonous
snakes, and the flowers were streams of fire pour-
ing out of their mouths. The whole ceiling was
covered with shining glow-worms and sky-blue
bats, flapping their thin wings. It looked quite
terrific In the middle of the floor was a throne
carried by four skeleton horses, with harness of
fiery red spiders; the throne itself was of milk-
white glass, and the cushions were little black
The Travelling Companion. 55
mice, biting each other's tails. Above it was a
canopy of pink spider's web, trimmed with some
pretty little green flies, which gleamed like jewels.
On the throne sat an old magician, with a crown
on his ugly head and a sceptre in his hand. He
kissed the Princess on the forehead, made her
sit down beside him on the costly throne, and
then the music began. Great black grasshoppers
played on jews'-harps, and the owl beat her wings
upon her body, because she hadn't a drum. That
was a strange concert! Little black goblins with
a Jack-o'-lantern light on their caps danced about
in the hall. But no one could see the travelling
companion: he had placed himself just behind
the throne, and-heard and saw everything. The
courtiers, who now came in, were very grand and
noble; but he who could see it all knew very well
what it all meant. They were nothing more than
broomsticks with heads of cabbages on them, which
the magician had animated by his power, and to
whom he had given embroidered clothes. But
that did not natter, for, you see, they were only
wanted for show.
After there had been a little dancing, the Prin-
cess told the magician that she had a new suitor,
and therefore she inquired of him what she should
56 The Travelling Companion.
think of to ask the suitor when he should come to-
morrow to the palace.
"Listen!" said the magician, "I will tell you
that: you must choose something very easy, for
then he won't think of it. Think of one of your
shoes. That he will not guess. Let him have his
head cut off; but don't forget when you come to
me to-morrow night to bring me his eyes, for I '11
The Princess courtesied very low, and said she
would not forget the eyes. The magician opened
the mountain, and she flew home again; but the
travelling companion followed her, and beat her
again so hard with the rod that she sighed quite
deeply about the heavy hail-storm, and hurried,
as much as she could, to get back into the bed-
room through the open window. The travelling
companion, for his part, flew back to the inn, where
John was still asleep, took off his wings, and then
laid himself upon the bed, for- he might well be
It was quite early in the morning when John
awoke. The travelling companion also got up,
and said he had had a wonderful dream in the
night about the Princess and her shoe; and he
therefore begged John to ask if the Princess had
The Travelling Companion. 57,
not thought about her shoe. For it was this he
had heard from the magician in the mountain.
"I may just as well ask about that as about
anything else," said John. "Perhaps it is quite
right, what you have dreamed. But I will bid you
farewell; for, if I guess wrong, I shall never see
Then they embraced each other, and John went
into the town and to the palace. The entire hall
was filled with people; the judges sat in their arm-
chairs and had eider-down pillows behind their
heads, for they had a great deal to think about.
The old King stood up and wiped his eyes with a
white pocket handkerchief. Now the Princess
came in. She was much more beautiful than
yesterday, and bowed to them all in a very affable
manner; but to John she gave her hand, and said,
"Good morning to you !"
Now John was to guess what she had thought
of. Oh, how lovingly she looked at him But as
soon as she heard the single word shoe" pro-
nounced, she became as white as chalk in the face,
and trembled all over. But that availed her no-
thing, for John had guessed right!
Wonderful! How glad the old King was! He
threw a somersault beautiful to behold. And all
58 The Travelling Companion.
the people clapped their hands in honour of him
and of John, who had guessed right the first time.
The travelling companion was glad too, when he
heard how well matters had gone. But John felt
very grateful; and he was sure he should receive
help the second and third time, as he had been
helped the first. The next day he was to guess
The evening passed just like that of yesterday.
While John slept the travelling companion flew
behind the Princess out of the mountain, and beat
her even harder than the time before, for now he
had taken two rods. No one saw him, and he
heard everything. The Princess was to think of
her glove; and this he again told to John as if it
had been a dream. Thus John could guess well,
which caused great rejoicing in the palace. The
whole court threw somersaults, just as they had
seen the King do the first time. But the Princess
lay on the sofa, and would not say a single word.
Now the question was, if John could guess properly
the third time. If he succeeded, he was to have
the beautiful Princess and inherit the whole king-
dom after the old King's death. If he failed, he
was to lose his life, and the magician would eat
his beautiful blue eyes.
The Travelling Companion. 59
That evening John went early to bed, said his
prayers, and went to sleep quite quietly. But the
travelling companion bound his wings to his back
and his sword by his side, and took all three rods
with him, and so flew away to the palace.
It was a very dark night. The wind blew so hard
that the tiles flew off from the roofs, and the trees
in the garden where the skeletons hung bent like
reeds before the storm. The lightning flashed out
every minute, and the thunder rolled just as if it
were one peal lasting the whole night. Now the
window opened, and the Princess flew out. She
was as pale as death; but she laughed at the bad
weather, and declared it was not bad enough yet.
And her white cloak fluttered in the wind like a
great sail; but the travelling companion beat her
with the three rods, so that the blood dripped upon
the ground, and at last she could scarcely fly any
farther. At length, however, she arrived at the
"It hails and blows !" she said. "I have never
been out in such weather."
"One may have too much of a good thing,"
said the magician. "I shall think of something
of which he has never thought, or he must be a
greater conjuror than I. But now we will be
The Death of the ,..,
merry!" And he took the Princess by the hands,
and they danced about with all the little goblins
and Jack-o'-lanterns that were in the room. The
red spiders jumped just as merrily up and down
The Travelling Companion. 61
the walls: it looked as if fiery flowers were spurt-
ing out. The owl played the drum, the crickets
piped, and the black grasshoppers played on the
jews'-harp. It was a merry ball.
When they had danced long enough, the Princess
was obliged to go home, for she might be missed
in the palace. The magician said he would accom-
pany her, then they would have each other's com-
pany on the way.
Then they flew away into the bad weather, and
the travelling companion broke all his three rods
across their backs. Never had the magician been
out in such a hail-storm. In front of the palace
he said good bye to the Princess, and whispered
to her at the same time, Think of my head!"
But the travelling companion heard it; and just
at the moment when the Princess slipped through
the window into her bed-room, and the magician
was about to turn back, he seized him by his long
beard, and with his sabre cut off the ugly conjuror's
head just by the shoulders, so that the magician
did not even see him. The body he threw out into
the sea to the fishes; but the head he only dipped
into the water, and then tied it in his silk hand-
kerchief, took it with him into the inn, and then
lay down to sleep.
62 The Travelling Companion.
Next morning he gave John the handkerchief,
and told him not to untie it until the Princess
asked him to tell her thoughts.
There were so many people in the great hall of
the palace, that they stood as close together as
radishes bound together in a bundle. The council
sat in the chairs with the soft pillows, and the old
King had new clothes on; the golden crown and
sceptre had been polished, and everything looked
quite stately. But the Princess was quite pale,
and had a coal-black dress on, as if she were going
to be buried.
Of what have I thought ?" she asked John.
And he immediately untied the handkerchief,
and was himself quite frightened when he saw the
ugly magician's head. All present shuddered,
for it was terrible to look upon; but the Princess
sat just like a statue, and would not utter a single
word. At length she stood up, and gave John her
hand, for he had guessed well. She did not look
at any one, only sighed aloud, and said,
"Now you are my lord !-this evening we will
hold our wedding."
"I like that! cried the old King. "Thus I
will have it."
All present cried Hurrah!" The soldiers' band
The -Travelling Companion. 63
played music in the streets, the bells rang, and the
cake-women took off the black crape from their
sugar dolls, for joy now reigned around. Three
oxen roasted whole, and stuffed with ducks and
fowls, were placed in the middle of the market,
that every one might cut himself a slice; the foun-
tains ran with the best wine; and whoever bought
a penny cake at the baker's, got six biscuits into
the bargain, and the biscuits had raisins in them.
In the evening the whole town was illuminated;
the soldiers fired off the cannon, and the boys let
off crackers; and there was eating and drinking,
clinking of glasses, and dancing, in the palace.
All the noble gentlemen and pretty ladies danced
with each other, and one could hear, a long dis-
tance off, how they sang-
"Here are many pretty girls, who all love to dance;
See, they whirl like spinning-wheels, retire and advance.
Turn, my pretty maiden, do,
Till the sole falls from your shoe."
But still the Princess was a witch, and did
not like John. That occurred to the travelling
companion; and so he gave John three feathers
out of the swan's wings and a little bottle with a
few drops in it, and told John that he must put a
large tub of water before the Princess's bed; and
64 The Travelling Companion,
when the Princess was about to get into bed, he
should give her a little push, so that she should
fall into the tub; and then he must dip her three
times, after he had put in the feathers and poured
in the drops; she would then lose her magic quali-
ties, and love him very much.
John did all that the travelling companion had
advised him to do. The Princess screamed out
loudly while he dipped her under, and struggled
under his hands in the form of a great coal-black
swan with fiery red eyes. When she came up the
second time above the water, the swan was white,
with the exception of a black ring round her neck.
John let the water close for the third time over
the bird; and in the same moment it was changed
into the beautiful Princess. She was more beau-
tiful even than before, and thanked him, with tears
in her lovely eyes, that he had freed her from the
The next morning the old King came with his
whole court, and then there was great congratu-
lations till late into the day. Last of all came
the travelling companion; he had his staff in his
hand and his knapsack on his back. John kissed
him many times, and said he must not depart, he
must remain with the friend of whose happiness
The Naughty Boy!. 65
he was the cause. But the travelling companion
shook his head, and said mildly and kindly,
No, now my time is up. I have only paid my
debt. Do you remember the dead man whom
the bad people wished to injure? You gave all
you possessed in order that he might have rest in
his grave. I am that man."
And in the same moment he vanished.
The wedding festivities lasted a whole month.
John and the Princess loved each other truly, and
the old King passed many pleasant days, and let
their children ride on his knees and play with his
sceptre. And John afterwards became King over
the whole country.
THE NAUGHTY BOY.
HERE was once an old poet-a very good
old poet. One evening as he sat at home
there was dreadfully bad weather without. The
rain streamed down: but the old poet sat comfort-
66 The Naughty Boy.
ably by his stove, where the fire was burning and
the roasting apples were hissing.
There won't be a dry thread left on the poor
people who are out in this weather !" said he-for
he was a good old poet.
Oh, open to me I am cold, and quite wet,"
said' a little child outside ; and it cried aloud, and
knocked at the door, while the rain streamed down
and the wind made all the casements of the house
"You poor little creature !" said the poet; and
he went to open the door.
There stood a little boy; he was quite naked,
and the water ran in streams from his long fair
curls. He was shivering with cold, and had he not
been let in, he would certainly have perished in
the bad weather.
You little creature !" said the poet, and took
him by the hand, come to me, and I will warm
you. You shall have wine and an apple, for you
are a capital boy."
And so he was. His eyes sparkled like two
bright stars, and though the water ran down from
his fair curls, they fell in beautiful ringlets. He
looked like a little angel-child, but was white with
cold and trembled all over. In his hand he carried
The Naughty Boy. 67
a famous bow, but it looked quite spoiled by the
wet; all the colours in the beautiful arrows had
been blurred together by the rain.
The old poet sat down by the stove, took the
little boy on his knees, pressed the water out of
the long curls, warmed his hands in his own, and
made him some sweet whine-whey; then the boy
recovered himself, and his cheeks grew red, and he
jumped to the floor and danced round the old poet.
"You are a merry boy," said the old poet.
"What is your name ?"
"My name is Cupid," he replied; "don't you
know me? There lies my bow-I shoot with that,
you may believe me! See, now the weather is
clearing up outside, and the moon shines."
"But your bow is spoiled," said the old poet.
"That would be a pity," replied the little boy;
and he took the bow and looked at it. Oh, it is
quite dry, and has suffered no damage; the string
is quite stiff-I will try it !" Then he bent it,
and laid an arrow across, aimed, and shot the good
old poet straight through the heart. Do you see
now that my bow was not spoiled?" said he, and
laughed out loud and ran away.
What a naughty boy to shoot at the old poet in
that way, who had admitted him into the warm
il, :: i is i^'i i :7y B
I I'! I
Illl i l- ,
T7e old Poet shot thtLoZgl7 t he heart by Oup2id,
room, and been so kind to him, and given him the
best wine and the best apple !
The good poet lay upon the floor, and wept ; he
was really shot straight into the heart.
"Fie he cried, ~hat a naughty boy this
The Naughty Boy. .69
Cupid is I shall tell that to all good children, so
that they may take care, and never play with him,
for he will do them a hurt !"
All good children, girls and boys, to whom he
told this, took good heed of this naughty Cupid;
but still he tricked them, for he is very cunning.
When the students come out from the lectures, he
runs at their side with a book under his arm, and
has a black coat on. They cannot recognize him
at all. And then they take his arm and fancy he
is a student too; but he thrusts the arrow into
their breasts. Yes, he is always following people!
He sits in the great chandelier in the theatre and
burns brightly, so that the people think h6 is a
lamp; but afterwards they see their error. He
runs about in the palace garden and on the pro-
menades. Yes, he once shot your father and your
mother straight through the heart! Only ask
them, and you will hear what they say. Oh, he is
a bad boy, this Cupid; you must never have any-
thing to do with him. He is after every one. Only
think, once he shot an arrow at old grandmamma;
but that was a long time ago. The wound has
indeed healed long since, but she will never forget
it. Fie on that wicked Cupid But now you
know him, and what a naughty boy he is.
THE JEWISH GIRL.
E^MONG the children in a charity school sat
a little Jewish girl. She was a good, in-
telligent child, the quickest in all the school; but
she had to be excluded from one lesson, for she
was not allowed to take part in the scripture-
lesson, for it was a Christian school.
In that hour the girl was allowed to open the
geography-book, or to do her sum for the next
day; but that was soon done; and when she had
mastered her lesson in geography, the book indeed
remained open before her, but the little one read
no more in it: she listened silently to the words
of the Christian teacher, who soon became aware
that she was listening more intently than almost
any of the other children.
"Read your book, Sara," the teacher said, in
mild reproof; but her dark beaming eye remained
fixed upon him; and once when he addressed a
The Jewish Girl. 71
question to her, she knew how to answer better
than any of the others could have done. She had
heard and understood, and had kept his words in
When her father, a poor honest man, first
brought the girl to the school, he had stipulated
that she should be excluded from the lessons on
the Christian faith. But it would have caused
disturbance, and perhaps might have awakened
discontent in the minds of the others, if she had
been sent from the room during the hours in ques-
tion, and consequently she stayed; but this could
not go on any longer.
The teacher betook himself to the father, and
exhorted him either to remove his daughter from
the school, or to consent that Sara should become
"I can no longer be a silent spectator of the
gleaming eyes of the child, and of her deep and
earnest longing for the words of the Gospel," said
Then the father burst into tears.
"I know but little of the commandment given
to my fathers," he said; "but Sara's mother was
steadfast in the faith, a true daughter of Israel,
and I vowed to her as she lay dying that our child
72 The Jewish Girl.
should never be baptized. I must keep my vow,
for it is even as a covenant with God Himself."
And accordingly the little Jewish maiden quitted
the Christian school.
Years have rolled on.
In one of the smallest provincial towns there
dwelt, as servant in a very humble household, a
maiden who held the Mosaic faith. Her hair was
black as ebony, her eye dark as night, and yet
full of splendour and light, as is usual with the
daughters of Israel. It was Sara. The expres-
sion in the countenance of the now grown-up
maiden was still that of the child sitting upon the
school-room bench and listening with thoughtful
eyes to the words of the Christian teacher.
Every Sunday there pealed from the church the
sounds of the organ and the song of the congre-
gation. The strains penetrated into the house
where the Jewish girl, industrious and faithful in
all things, stood at her work.
Thou shalt keep holy the Sabbath-day," said
a voice within her, the voice of the Law; but
her Sabbath-day was a working day among the
Christians, and that seemed unfortunate to her.
But then the thought arose in her soul: "Doth
The Jewish Girl. 73
God reckon by days and hours ?" And when
this thought grew strong within her, it seemed a
comfort that on the Sunday of the Christians the
hour of prayer remained undisturbed; and when
the sound of the organ and the songs of the con-
gregation sounded across to her as she stood in
the kitchen at her work, then even that place
seemed to become a sacred one to her. Then she
would read in the Old Testament, the treasure and
comfort of her people, and it was only in this one
that she could read, for she kept faithfully in the
depths of her heart the words the teacher had
spoken when she left the school, and the promise
her father had given to her dying mother, that
she should never receive Christian baptism, or
deny the faith of her ancestors. The New Testa-
ment was to be a sealed book to her; and yet she
knew much of it, and the Gospel echoed faintly
among the recollections of her youth.
One evening she was sitting in a corner of the
living-room. Her master was reading aloud; and
she might listen to him, for it was not the Gospel
that he read, but an old story-book, therefore she
might stay. The book told of a Hungarian knight
who was taken prisoner by a Turkish pasha, who
caused him to be yoked with his oxen to the plough,
"II~'' Jll l l, 2
...l.tn to t singing in the Chcl.
.- _. I -- -
The Jewish Girl. 75
and driven with blows of the whip till the blood
came, and he almost sank under the pain and
ignominy he endured. The faithful wife of the
knight at home parted with all her jewels, and
pledged castle and land. The knight's friends
amassed large sums, for the ransom demanded was
almost unattainably high: but it was collected at
last, and the knight was freed from servitude and
misery. Sick and exhausted, he reached his home.
But soon another summons came to war against
the foes of Christianity: the knight heard the cry,
and he could stay no longer, for he had neither
peace nor rest. He caused himself to be lifted on
his war-horse; and the blood came back to his
cheek, his strength appeared to return, and he
went forth to battle and to victory. The very
same pasha who had yoked him to the plough
became his prisoner, and was dragged to his castle.
But not an hour had passed when the knight stood
before the captive pasha, and said to him,
"What dost thou suppose awaiteth thee ?"
"I know it," replied the Turk. Retribution."
"Yes, the retribution of the Christian!" re-
sumed the knight. The doctrine of Christ com-
mands us to forgive our enemies and to love our
fellow-man, for it teaches us that God is love
76 The Jewish Girl.
Depart in peace, depart to thy home : I will restore
thee to thy dear ones; but in future be mild and
merciful to all who are unfortunate."
Then the prisoner broke out into tears, and ex-
How could I believe in the possibility of such
mercy? Misery and torment seemed to await me,
they seemed inevitable; therefore I took poison,
which I secretly carried about me, and in a few
hours its effects will slay me. I must die-there
is no remedy! But before I die, do thou expound
to me the teaching which includes so great a
measure of love and mercy, for it is great and god-
like Grant me to hear this teaching, and to die
a Christian !" And his prayer was fulfilled.
That was the legend which the master read out
of the old story-book. All the audience listened
with sympathy and pleasure; but Sara, the Jewish
girl, sitting alone in her corner, listened with a
burning heart; great tears came into her gleam-
ing black eyes, and she sat there with a gentle and
lowly spirit as she had once sat on the school
bench, and felt the grandeur of the Gospel; and
the tears rolled down over her cheeks.
But again the dying words of her mother rose
up within her:
The Jewish Girl. 77
"Let not my daughter become a Christian,"
the voice cried; and together with it arose the
word of the Law: Thou shalt honour thy father
and thy mother."
"I am not admitted into the community of the
Christians," she said; "they abuse me for being
a Jew girl-our neighbour's boys hooted me last
Sunday, when I stood at the open church door,
and looked in at the flaming candles on the altar,
and listened to the song of the congregation. Ever
since I sat upon the school bench I have felt the
force of Christianity, a force like that of a sun-
beam, which streams into my soul, however firmly
I may shut my eyes against it. But I will not
pain thee in thy grave, O my mother, I will never
be unfaithful to the oath of my father, I will not
read the Bible of the Christians. I have the reli-
gion of my people, and to that will I hold "
And years rolled on again.
The master died. His widow fell into poverty;
and the servant girl was to be dismissed. But
Sara refused to leave the house: she became the
staff in time of trouble, and kept the household
together, working till late in the night to earn the
daily bread through the labour of her hands; for
78 Thle Jewish Girl.
no relative came forward to assist the family, and
the widow become weaker every day, and lay for
months together on the bed of sickness. Sara
worked very hard, and in the intervals sat kindly
ministering by the sick-bed: she was gentle and
pious, an angel of blessing in the poverty-stricken
"Yonder on the table lies the Bible," said the
sick woman to Sara. Read me something from it,
for the night appears to be so long-oh, so long !-
and my soul thirsts for the word of the -Lord."
And Sara bowed her head. She took the book,
and folded her hands over the Bible of the Chris-
tians, and opened it, and read to the sick woman.
Tears stood in her eyes, which gleamed and shone
with ecstacy, and light shone in her heart.
0 my mother," she whispered to herself, "thy
child may not receive the baptism of the Christians,
or be admitted into the congregation-thou hast
willed it so, and I shall respect thy command:
we will remain in union together here upon earth;
but beyond this earth there is a higher union, even
union in God He will be at our side, and lead
us through the valley of death. It is He that
descendeth upon the earth when it is athirst, and
covers it with fruitfulness, I understand it- I
The Jewish Girl. 79
know not how I came to learn the truth; but it
is through Him, through Christ! "
And she started as she pronounced the sacred
name, and there came upon her a baptism as of
flames of fire, and her frame shook, and her limbs
tottered so that she sank down fainting, weaker
even than the sick woman by whose couch she
Poor Sara said the people; "she is over-
come with night watching and toil !"
They carried her out into the hospital for the
sick poor. There she died; and from thence they
carried her to the grave, but not to the churchyard
of the Christians, for yonder was no room for the
Jewish girl; outside, by the wall, her grave was
But God's sun, that shines upon the graves of
the Christians, throws its beams also upon the
grave of the Jewish girl beyond the wall; and
when the psalms are sung in the churchyard of
the Christians, they echo likewise over her lonely
resting-place; and she who sleeps beneath is in-
cluded in the call to the resurrection, in the name
of Him who spake to his disciples:
John baptized you with water, but I will bap-
tize you with the Holy Ghost."
N the nursery a number of toys lay strewn
about: high up on the wardrobe stood the
money-box made of clay and purchased of the
potter, and, it was in the shape of a little pig; of
course the pig had a slit in its back, and this slit
had been so enlarged with a knife that whole dollar
pieces could slip through; and, indeed, two such
had slipped into the box, besides a number of
pence. The money-pig was stuffed so full that it
could no longer rattle, and that is the highest point
of perfection a money-pig can attain. There it
stood upon the cupboard, high and lofty, looking
down upon everything else in the room: it knew
very well that what it had in its stomach would
have bought all the toys, and that's what we call
The others thought of that too, even if they
did not exactly express it, for there were many
The Money-Pig. 81
other things to speak of. One of the drawers was
half pulled out, and there lay a great handsome
Doll, though she was somewhat old, and her neck
had been mended. She looked out and said,
"Now we 'll play at men and women, for that is
Now there was a general uproar, and even the
framed prints on the walls turned round and showed
that there was a wrong side to them; but they did
not do it to protest against the proposal.
It was late at night; the moon shone through
the window-frames and afforded the cheapest light.
The game was now to begin, and all, even the
children's Go-Cart, which certainly belonged to the
coarser playthings, were invited to take part in the
"Each one has his own peculiar value," said
the Go-Cart; we cannot all be noblemen. There
must be some who do the work, as the saying is."
The money-pig was the only one who received a
written invitation, for he was of high standing,
and they were afraid he would not accept a verbal
message. Indeed, he did not'answer to say whether
he would come, nor did he come: if he was to take
a part, he must enjoy the sport from his own home;
they were to arrange accordingly, and so they did.
The party of Toys.
The little toy theatre was now put up in such a
way that the money-pig could look directly in.
They wanted to begin with a comedy, and after,
wards there was to be a tea party and a discussion
for mental improvement, and with this latter part
they began immediately. The rocking-horse spoke
of training and race; the Go-Cart of railways and
steam power, for all this belonged to their pro-
fession, and it was quite right they should talk of
it. The clock talked politics-ticks-ticks-and
knew what was the time of day, though it was
Tlie i> .,:j-Pig. 83
whispered he did not go correctly; the bamboo cane
stood there, stiff and proud, for he was conceited
about his brass ferule and his silver top, for being
thus bound above and below; on the sofa lay two
worked cushions, pretty and stupid.
And now the play began.
All sat and looked on, and it was requested the
audience should applaud and crack and stamp ac-
cording as they were gratified. But the riding-
whip said he never cracked for old people, only for
young ones who were not yet married.
I crack for everything," said the Cracker.
And these were the thoughts they had while the
play went on. The piece was worthless, but it was
well played: all the characters turned their painted
side to the audience, for they were so made that
they should only be looked at from that side, and
not from the other; and all played wonderfully well,
coming out quite beyond the lamps, because the
wires were a little too long, but that only made
them come out the more. The darned Doll was
quite exhausted with excitement--so thoroughly
exhausted that she burst .at the darned place in
her neck, and the money-pig was so enchanted in
his way that he formed the resolution to do some-
thing for one of the players, and to remember him in
84 The Money-Pig.
his will as the one who should be buried with him in
the family vault, when matters were so far advanced.
It was true enjoyment, such true enjoyment
that they quite gave up the thoughts of tea, and
only carried out the idea of mental recreation;
That's what they call playing at men and women;
and there was nothing wrong in it, for they were
only playing; and each one thought of himself and
of what the money-pig might think; and the
money-pig thought furthest of all, for he thought
of making his will and of his burial. And when
might this come to pass ? Certainly far sooner
than was expected. Crack it fell down from the
cupboard, fell on the ground, and was broken to
pieces, and the pennies hopped and danced in comi-
cal style; the little ones turned round like tops,
and the bigger ones rolled away, particularly the
one great silver dollar, who wanted to go out into
the world. And he came out into the world, and
they all succeeded in doing so; and the pieces of
the money-pig were put into the dust-bin; but the
next day a new money-pig was standing on the
cupboard; it had not yet a farthing in its stomach,
and therefore could not rattle, and in this it was
like the other. And that was a beginning- and
with that we will make an end.
WHAT ONE CAN INVENT.
HERE was once a young man who was
studying to be a poet. He wanted to
become one by Easter, and to marry, and to
live by poetry. To write poems, he knew, only
consists in being able to invent something; but
he could not invent anything. He had been
born too late-everything had been taken up
before he came into the world, and everything
had been written and told about.
"Happy people who were born a thousand
years ago!" said he. "It was an easy matter
for them to become immortal. Happy even was
86 What one can Invent.
he who was born a hundred years ago, for then
there was still something about which a poem
could be written. Now the world is written out,
and what can I write poetry about?"
Then he studied till he became ill and
wretched, the wretched man No doctor could
help him, but perhaps the wise woman could.
She lived in the little house by the wayside,
where the gate is that she opened for those who
rode and drove. But she could do more than
unlock the gate: she was wiser than the doctor
who drives in his own carriage and pays tax for
"I must go to her," said the young man.
The house in which she dwelt was small and
neat, but dreary to behold, for there were no
flowers near it-no trees. By the door stood a
What one can Invent. 87
bee-hive, which was very useful. There was
also a little potato-field-very useful-and an
earth-bank, with sloe bushes upon it, which had
done blossoming, and now bore fruit-sloes,
that draw one's mouth together if one tastes
them before the frost has touched them.
"That's a true picture of our poetryless
time, that I see before me now," thought the
young man; and that was at least a thought, a
grain of gold that he found by the door of the
"Write that down!" said she. "Even crumbs
are bread. I know why you come hither. You
cannot invent anything, and yet you want to
be a poet by Easter."
"Everything has been written down," said
he. "Our time is not the old time."
88 What one can Invent.
Th7e vould-be Poet.
SNo," said the woman. "In the old time
wise women were burnt, and poets went about
with empty stomachs, and very much out at
elbows. The present time is good-it is the
best of times; but you have not the right way
of looking at it. Your ear is not sharpened to
hear, and I fancy you do not say the Lord's
What one can Invent. 89
Prayer in the evening. There is plenty here to
write poems about, and to tell of, for any one
who knows the way. You can read it in the
fruits of the earth, you can draw it from the
flowing and the standing water; but you must
know how-you must understand how to catch
a sunbeam. Now just you try my spectacles on,
and put my par-trumpet to your ear, and then
pray to God, and leave off thinking of your-
The last was a very difficult thing to do-
more than a wise woman ought to ask.
He received the spectacles and the ear-
trumpet, and was posted in the middle of the
potato-field. She put a great potato into his
hand. Sounds came from within it; there
came a song with words, the history of the
9G What one can Invent.
potato, an every-day story in ten parts--an
interesting story. And ten lines were enough
to tell it in.
And what did the Potato sing?
She sang of herself and of her family-of
the arrival of the potato in Europe, of the mis-
representation to which she had been exposed
before she was acknowledged, as she is now, to
be a greater treasure than a lump of gold.
"We were distributed, by the King's com-
mand, from the council-houses through the
various towns, and proclamation was made of
our great value; but no one believed in it, or
even understood how to plant us. One man dug
a hole in the earth and threw in his whole
bushel of potatoes; another put one potato here
and another there in the ground, and expected
What one can Invent. 91
that each was to come up a perfect tree, from
which he might shake down potatoes. And
they certainly grew, and produced flowers and
green watery fruit, but it all withered away.
Nobody thought of what was in the ground-
the blessing-the potato. Yes, we have endured
and suffered -that is to say, our forefathers
have; they and we, it is all one."
What a story it was!
"Well, and that will do," said the woman.
" Now look at the sloe bush."
"We have also some near relations in the
home of the potatoes, but higher towards the
north than they grew," said the Sloes. There
were Northmen, from Norway, who steered
westward through mist and storm to an un-
known land, where, behind ice and snow, they
92 Wfhat one can Invent.
found plants and green meadows, and bushes
with blue-black grapes- sloe bushes. The
grapes were ripened by the frost just as we are.
And they called the land C wine-land,' that is,
'Groenland' or Sloeland.'"
"That is quite a romantic story," said the
"Yes, certainly. But now come with me,"
said the wise woman; and she led him to the
He looked into it. What life and labour!
There were bees standing in all the passages,
waving their wings, so that a wholesome draught
of air might blow through the great manufac-
tory : that was their business. Then there came
in bees from without, who had been born with
little baskets on their feet: they brought flower-
What one can Invent. 93
dust, which was poured out, sorted, and manu-
factured into honey and wax. They flew in and
out: the qu een-bee wanted to fly out too, but
then all the other bees must have gone with
her. It was not yet the time for that, but still
she wanted to fly out so the others bit off her
majesty's wings, and she had to stay where she
"'Now get upon the earth-bank," said the
wise woman. "Come and look out over the
highway, where you can see the people."
"What a crowd it is !" said the young man.
"One story after another. It whirls and whirls!
It's quite a confusion before my eyes. I shall
go out at the back."
"No, go straight forward," said the woman.
"Go straight into the crowd of people; look at
94 What one can Invent,
them in the right way. Have an ear to hear
and the right heart to feel, and you will soon
invent something. But, before you go away,
you must give me my spectacles and my eari
And so saying, she took both from him.
"Now I do not see the smallest thing,".said
the young man, "and now I don't hear any.
Why, then, you can't be a poet by Easter,"
said the wise woman.
"But by what time can I be one?" asked
"Neither by Easter nor by Whitsuntide!
You will not learn how to invent anything."
"What must I do to earn my bread by