mamma used to cry thirty years ago. But I make them shorter, for the
youngsters don't like long speeches; and if they have anything
mournful, they like it to be over quickly."
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE RACES
by Hans Christian Andersen
A PRIZE, or rather two prizes, a great one and a small one, had
been awarded for the greatest swiftness in running,- not in a single
race, but for the whole year.
"I obtained the first prize," said the hare. "Justice must still
be carried out, even when one has relations and good friends among the
prize committee; but that the snail should have received the second
prize, I consider almost an insult to myself"
"No," said the fence-rail, who had been a witness at the
distribution of prizes; "there should be some consideration for
industry and perseverance. I have heard many respectable people say
so, and I can quite understand it. The snail certainly took half a
year to get over the threshold of the door; but he injured himself,
and broke his collar-bone by the haste he made. He gave himself up
entirely to the race, and ran with his house on his back, which was
all, of course, very praiseworthy; and therefore he obtained the
second prize."
"I think I ought to have had some consideration too," said the
swallow. "I should imagine no one can be swifter in soaring and flight
than I am; and how far I have been! far, far away."
"Yes, that is your misfortune," said the fence-rail; "you are so
fickle, so unsettled; you must always be travelling about into foreign
lands when the cold commences here. You have no love of fatherland
in you. There can be no consideration for you."
"But now, if I have been lying the whole winter in the moor," said
the swallow, "and suppose I slept the whole time, would that be
taken into account?"
"Bring a certificate from the old moor-hen," said he, "that you
have slept away half your time in fatherland; then you will be treated
with some consideration."
"I deserved the first prize, and not the second," said the
snail. "I know so much, at least, that the hare only ran from
cowardice, and because he thought there was danger in delay. I, on the
other hand, made running the business of my life, and have become a
cripple in the service. If any one had a first prize, it ought to have
been myself. But I do not understand chattering and boasting; on the
contrary, I despise it." And the snail spat at them with contempt.
"I am able to affirm with word of oath, that each prize- at least,
those for which I voted- was given with just and proper
consideration," said the old boundary post in the wood, who was a
member of the committee of judges. "I always act with due order,
consideration, and calculation. Seven times have I already had the
honor to be present at the distribution of the prizes, and to vote;
but to-day is the first time I have been able to carry out my will.
I always reckon the first prize by going through the alphabet from the
beginning, and the second by going through from the end. Be so kind as
to give me your attention, and I will explain to you how I reckon from
the beginning. The eighth letter from A is H, and there we have H
for hare; therefore I awarded to the hare the first prize. The
eighth letter from the end of the alphabet is S, and therefore the
snail received the second prize. Next year, the letter I will have its
turn for the first prize, and the letter R for the second."
"I should really have voted for myself," said the mule, "if I
had not been one of the judges on the committee. Not only the rapidity
with which advance is made, but every other quality should have due
consideration; as, for instance, how much weight a candidate is able
to draw; but I have not brought this quality forward now, nor the
sagacity of the hare in his flight, nor the cunning with which he
suddenly springs aside and doubles, to lead people on a false track,
thinking he has concealed himself. No; there is something else on
which more stress should be laid, and which ought not be left
unnoticed. I mean that which mankind call the beautiful. It is on
the beautiful that I particularly fix my eyes. I observed the
well-grown ears of the hare; it is a pleasure to me to observe how
long they are. It seemed as if I saw myself again in the days of my
childhood; and so I voted for the hare."
"Buz," said the fly; "there, I'm not going to make a long
speech; but I wish to say something about hares. I have really
overtaken more than one hare, when I have been seated on the engine in
front of a railway train. I often do so. One can then so easily
judge of one's own swiftness. Not long ago, I crushed the hind legs of
a young hare. He had been running a long time before the engine; he
had no idea that I was travelling there. At last he had to stop in his
career, and the engine ran over his hind legs, and crushed them; for I
set upon it. I left him lying there, and rode on farther. I call
that conquering him; but I do not want the prize."
"It really seems to me," thought the wild rose, though she did not
express her opinion aloud- it is not in her nature to do so,- though
it would have been quite as well if she had; "it certainly seems to me
that the sunbeam ought to have had the honor of receiving the first
prize. The sunbeam flies in a few minutes along the immeasurable
path from the sun to us. It arrives in such strength, that all
nature awakes to loveliness and beauty; we roses blush and exhale
fragrance in its presence. Our worshipful judges don't appear to
have noticed this at all. Were I the sunbeam, I would give each one of
them a sun stroke; but that would only make them mad, and they are mad
enough already. I only hope," continued the rose, "that peace may
reign in the wood. It is glorious to bloom, to be fragrant, and to
live; to live in story and in song. The sunbeam will outlive us all."
"What is the first prize?" asked the earthworm, who had
overslept the time, and only now came up.
"It contains a free admission to a cabbage-garden," replied the
mule. "I proposed that as one of the prizes. The hare most decidedly
must have it; and I, as an active and thoughtful member of the
committee, took especial care that the prize should be one of
advantage to him; so now he is provided for. The snail can now sit
on the fence, and lick up moss and sunshine. He has also been
appointed one of the first judges of swiftness in racing. It is
worth much to know that one of the numbers is a man of talent in the
thing men call a 'committee.' I must say I expect much in the
future; we have already made such a good beginning."
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE RED SHOES
by Hans Christian Andersen
ONCE upon a time there was little girl, pretty and dainty. But
in summer time she was obliged to go barefooted because she was
poor, and in winter she had to wear large wooden shoes, so that her
little instep grew quite red.
In the middle of the village lived an old shoemaker's wife; she
sat down and made, as well as she could, a pair of little shoes out of
some old pieces of red cloth. They were clumsy, but she meant well,
for they were intended for the little girl, whose name was Karen.
Karen received the shoes and wore them for the first time on the
day of her mother's funeral. They were certainly not suitable for
mourning; but she had no others, and so she put her bare feet into
them and walked behind the humble coffin.
Just then a large old carriage came by, and in it sat an old lady;
she looked at the little girl, and taking pity on her, said to the
clergyman, "Look here, if you will give me the little girl, I will
take care of her."
Karen believed that this was all on account of the red shoes,
but the old lady thought them hideous, and so they were burnt. Karen
herself was dressed very neatly and cleanly; she was taught to read
and to sew, and people said that she was pretty. But the mirror told
her, "You are more than pretty- you are beautiful."
One day the Queen was travelling through that part of the country,
and had her little daughter, who was a princess, with her. All the
people, amongst them Karen too, streamed towards the castle, where the
little princess, in fine white clothes, stood before the window and
allowed herself to be stared at. She wore neither a train nor a golden
crown, but beautiful red morocco shoes; they were indeed much finer
than those which the shoemaker's wife had sewn for little Karen. There
is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!
Karen was now old enough to be confirmed; she received some new
clothes, and she was also to have some new shoes. The rich shoemaker
in the town took the measure of her little foot in his own room, in
which there stood great glass cases full of pretty shoes and white
slippers. It all looked very lovely, but the old lady could not see
very well, and therefore did not get much pleasure out of it.
Amongst the shoes stood a pair of red ones, like those which the
princess had worn. How beautiful they were! and the shoemaker said
that they had been made for a count's daughter, but that they had
not fitted her.
"I suppose they are of shiny leather?" asked the old lady. "They
shine so."
"Yes, they do shine," said Karen. They fitted her, and were
bought. But the old lady knew nothing of their being red, for she
would never have allowed Karen to be confirmed in red shoes, as she
was now to be.
Everybody looked at her feet, and the whole of the way from the
church door to the choir it seemed to her as if even the ancient
figures on the monuments, in their stiff collars and long black robes,
had their eyes fixed on her red shoes. It was only of these that she
thought when the clergyman laid his hand upon her head and spoke of
the holy baptism, of the covenant with God, and told her that she
was now to be a grown-up Christian. The organ pealed forth solemnly,
and the sweet children's voices mingled with that of their old leader;
but Karen thought only of her red shoes. In the afternoon the old lady
heard from everybody that Karen had worn red shoes. She said that it
was a shocking thing to do, that it was very improper, and that
Karen was always to go to church in future in black shoes, even if
they were old.
On the following Sunday there was Communion. Karen looked first at
the black shoes, then at the red ones- looked at the red ones again,
and put them on.
The sun was shining gloriously, so Karen and the old lady went
along the footpath through the corn, where it was rather dusty.
At the church door stood an old crippled soldier leaning on a
crutch; he had a wonderfully long beard, more red than white, and he
bowed down to the ground and asked the old lady whether he might
wipe her shoes. Then Karen put out her little foot too. "Dear me, what
pretty dancing-shoes!" said the soldier. "Sit fast, when you dance,"
said he, addressing the shoes, and slapping the soles with his hand.
The old lady gave the soldier some money and then went with
Karen into the church.
And all the people inside looked at Karen's red shoes, and all the
figures gazed at them; when Karen knelt before the altar and put the
golden goblet to her mouth, she thought only of the red shoes. It
seemed to her as though they were swimming about in the goblet, and
she forgot to sing the psalm, forgot to say the "Lord's Prayer."
Now every one came out of church, and the old lady stepped into
her carriage. But just as Karen was lifting up her foot to get in too,
the old soldier said: "Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!" and
Karen could not help it, she was obliged to dance a few steps; and
when she had once begun, her legs continued to dance. It seemed as
if the shoes had got power over them. She danced round the church
corner, for she could not stop; the coachman had to run after her
and seize her. He lifted her into the carriage, but her feet continued
to dance, so that she kicked the good old lady violently. At last they
took off her shoes, and her legs were at rest.
At home the shoes were put into the cupboard, but Karen could
not help looking at them.
Now the old lady fell ill, and it was said that she would not rise
from her bed again. She had to be nursed and waited upon, and this was
no one's duty more than Karen's. But there was a grand ball in the
town, and Karen was invited. She looked at the red shoes, saying to
herself that there was no sin in doing that; she put the red shoes on,
thinking there was no harm in that either; and then she went to the
ball; and commenced to dance.
But when she wanted to go to the right, the shoes danced to the
left, and when she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced
down the room, down the stairs through the street, and out through the
gates of the town. She danced, and was obliged to dance, far out
into the dark wood. Suddenly something shone up among the trees, and
she believed it was the moon, for it was a face. But it was the old
soldier with the red beard; he sat there nodding his head and said:
"Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!"
She was frightened, and wanted to throw the red shoes away; but
they stuck fast. She tore off her stockings, but the shoes had grown
