the knaves, showing that they had heads above and below as playing
cards generally have. The play was about two lovers, who were not
allowed to marry, and the shepherdess wept because it was so like
her own story. "I cannot bear it," said she, "I must get out of the
drawer;" but when they reached the floor, and cast their eyes on the
table, there was the old Chinaman awake and shaking his whole body,
till all at once down he came on the floor, "plump." "The old Chinaman
is coming," cried the little shepherdess in a fright, and down she
fell on one knee.
"I have thought of something," said the chimney-sweep; "let us get
into the great pot-pourri jar which stands in the corner; there we can
lie on rose-leaves and lavender, and throw salt in his eyes if he
comes near us."
"No, that will never do," said she, "because I know that the
Chinaman and the pot-pourri jar were lovers once, and there always
remains behind a feeling of good-will between those who have been so
intimate as that. No, there is nothing left for us but to go out
into the wide world."
"Have you really courage enough to go out into the wide world with
me?" said the chimney-sweep; "have you thought how large it is, and
that we can never come back here again?"
"Yes, I have," she replied.
When the chimney-sweep saw that she was quite firm, he said, "My
way is through the stove and up the chimney. Have you courage to creep
with me through the fire-box, and the iron pipe? When we get to the
chimney I shall know how to manage very well. We shall soon climb
too high for any one to reach us, and we shall come through a hole
in the top out into the wide world." So he led her to the door of
the stove.
"It looks very dark," said she; still she went in with him through
the stove and through the pipe, where it was as dark as pitch.
"Now we are in the chimney," said he; "and look, there is a
beautiful star shining above it." It was a real star shining down upon
them as if it would show them the way. So they clambered, and crept
on, and a frightful steep place it was; but the chimney-sweep helped
her and supported her, till they got higher and higher. He showed
her the best places on which to set her little china foot, so at
last they reached the top of the chimney, and sat themselves down, for
they were very tired, as may be supposed. The sky, with all its stars,
was over their heads, and below were the roofs of the town. They could
see for a very long distance out into the wide world, and the poor
little shepherdess leaned her head on her chimney-sweep's shoulder,
and wept till she washed the gilt off her sash; the world was so
different to what she expected. "This is too much," she said; "I
cannot bear it, the world is too large. Oh, I wish I were safe back on
the table. again, under the looking glass; I shall never be happy till
I am safe back again. Now I have followed you out into the wide world,
you will take me back, if you love me."
Then the chimney-sweep tried to reason with her, and spoke of
the old Chinaman, and of the Major-general-field-sergeant-commander
Billy-goat's legs; but she sobbed so bitterly, and kissed her little
chimney-sweep till he was obliged to do all she asked, foolish as it
was. And so, with a great deal of trouble, they climbed down the
chimney, and then crept through the pipe and stove, which were
certainly not very pleasant places. Then they stood in the dark
fire-box, and listened behind the door, to hear what was going on in
the room. As it was all quiet, they peeped out. Alas! there lay the
old Chinaman on the floor; he had fallen down from the table as he
attempted to run after them, and was broken into three pieces; his
back had separated entirely, and his head had rolled into a corner
of the room. The major-general stood in his old place, and appeared
lost in thought.
"This is terrible," said the little shepherdess. "My poor old
grandfather is broken to pieces, and it is our fault. I shall never
live after this;" and she wrung her little hands.
"He can be riveted," said the chimney-sweep; "he can be riveted.
Do not be so hasty. If they cement his back, and put a good rivet in
it, he will be as good as new, and be able to say as many disagreeable
things to us as ever."
"Do you think so?" said she; and then they climbed up to the
table, and stood in their old places.
"As we have done no good," said the chimney-sweep, "we might as
well have remained here, instead of taking so much trouble."
"I wish grandfather was riveted," said the shepherdess. "Will it
cost much, I wonder?"
And she had her wish. The family had the Chinaman's back mended,
and a strong rivet put through his neck; he looked as good as new, but
he could no longer nod his head.
"You have become proud since your fall broke you to pieces,"
said Major-general-field-sergeant-commander Billy-goat's-legs. "You
have no reason to give yourself such airs. Am I to have her or not?"
The chimney-sweep and the little shepherdess looked piteously at
the old Chinaman, for they were afraid he might nod; but he was not
able: besides, it was so tiresome to be always telling strangers he
had a rivet in the back of his neck.
And so the little china people remained together, and were glad of
the grandfather's rivet, and continued to love each other till they
were broken to pieces.
THE END
.
1872
THE SHEPHERD'S STORY OF THE BOND OF FRIENDSHIP
by Hans Christian Andersen
THE little dwelling in which we lived was of clay, but the
door-posts were columns of fluted marble, found near the spot on which
it stood. The roof sloped nearly to the ground. It was at this time
dark, brown, and ugly, but had originally been formed of blooming
olive and laurel branches, brought from beyond the mountains. The
house was situated in a narrow gorge, whose rocky walls rose to a
perpendicular height, naked and black, while round their summits
clouds often hung, looking like white living figures. Not a singing
bird was ever heard there, neither did men dance to the sound of the
pipe. The spot was one sacred to olden times; even its name recalled a
memory of the days when it was called "Delphi." Then the summits of
the dark, sacred mountains were covered with snow, and the highest,
mount Parnassus, glowed longest in the red evening light. The brook
which rolled from it near our house, was also sacred. How well I can
remember every spot in that deep, sacred solitude! A fire had been
kindled in the midst of the hut, and while the hot ashes lay there red
and glowing, the bread was baked in them. At times the snow would be
piled so high around our hut as almost to hide it, and then my
mother appeared most cheerful. She would hold my head between her
hands, and sing the songs she never sang at other times, for the
Turks, our masters, would not allow it. She sang,-
"On the summit of mount Olympus, in a forest of dwarf firs, lay an
old stag. His eyes were heavy with tears, and glittering with colors
like dewdrops; and there came by a roebuck, and said, 'What ailest
thee, that thou weepest blue and red tears?' And the stag answered,
'The Turk has come to our city; he has wild dogs for the chase, a
goodly pack.' 'I will drive them away across the islands!' cried the
young roebuck; 'I will drive them away across the islands into the
deep sea.' But before evening the roebuck was slain, and before
night the hunted stag was dead."
And when my mother sang thus, her eyes would become moist; and
on the long eyelashes were tears, but she concealed them and watched
the black bread baking in the ashes. Then I would clench my fist,
and cry, "We will kill these Turks!" But she repeated the words of the
song, "I will drive them across the islands to the deep sea; but
before evening came the roebuck was slain, and before the night the
hunted stag was dead."
We had been lonely in our hut for several days and nights when
my father came home. I knew he would bring me some shells from the
gulf of Lepanto, or perhaps a knife with a shining blade. This time he
brought, under his sheep-skin cloak, a little child, a little
half-naked girl. She was wrapped in a fur; but when this was taken
off, and she lay in my mother's lap, three silver coins were found
fastened in her dark hair; they were all her possessions. My father
told us that the child's parents had been killed by the Turks, and
he talked so much about them that I dreamed of Turks all night. He
himself had been wounded, and my mother bound up his arm. It was a
deep wound, and the thick sheep-skin cloak was stiff with congealed
blood. The little maiden was to be my sister. How pretty and bright
she looked: even my mother's eyes were not more gentle than hers.
Anastasia, as she was called, was to be my sister, because her
father had been united to mine by an old custom, which we still
follow. They had sworn brotherhood in their youth, and the most
beautiful and virtuous maiden in the neighborhood was chosen to
perform the act of consecration upon this bond of friendship. So now
this little girl was my sister. She sat in my lap, and I brought her
flowers, and feathers from the birds of the mountain. We drank
together of the waters of Parnassus, and dwelt for many years
beneath the laurel roof of the hut, while, winter after winter, my
mother sang her song of the stag who shed red tears. But as yet I
did not understand that the sorrows of my own countrymen were mirrored
in those tears.
One day there came to our hut Franks, men from a far country,
whose dress was different to ours. They had tents and beds with
them, carried by horses; and they were accompanied by more than twenty
Turks, all armed with swords and muskets. These Franks were friends of
the Pacha, and had letters from him, commanding an escort for them.
They only came to see our mountain, to ascend Parnassus amid the
snow and clouds, and to look at the strange black rocks which raised
their steep sides near our hut. They could not find room in the hut,
nor endure the smoke that rolled along the ceiling till it found its
way out at the low door; so they pitched their tents on a small
space outside our dwelling. Roasted lambs and birds were brought
forth, and strong, sweet wine, of which the Turks are forbidden to
partake.
When they departed, I accompanied them for some distance, carrying
my little sister Anastasia, wrapped in a goat-skin, on my back. One of
the Frankish gentlemen made me stand in front of a rock, and drew us
both as we stood there, so that we looked like one creature. I did not
think of it then, but Anastasia and I were really one. She was
always sitting on my lap, or riding in the goat-skin on my back; and
in my dreams she always appeared to me.
Two nights after this, other men, armed with knives and muskets,
came into our tent. They were Albanians, brave men, my mother told me.
They only stayed a short time. My sister Anastasia sat on the knee
of one of them; and when they were gone, she had not three, but two
silver coins in her hair- one had disappeared. They wrapped tobacco in
strips of paper, and smoked it; and I remember they were uncertain
as to the road they ought to take. But they were obliged to go at
last, and my father went with them. Soon after, we heard the sound
of firing. The noise continued, and presently soldiers rushed into our
hut, and took my mother and myself and Anastasia prisoners. They
declared that we had entertained robbers, and that my father had acted
as their guide, and therefore we must now go with them. The corpses of
the robbers, and my father's corpse, were brought into the hut. I
saw my poor dead father, and cried till I fell asleep. When I awoke, I
found myself in a prison; but the room was not worse than our own in
the hut. They gave me onions and musty wine from a tarred cask; but we
were not accustomed to much better fare at home. How long we were kept
in prison, I do not know; but many days and nights passed by. We
were set free about Easter-time. I carried Anastasia on my back, and
we walked very slowly; for my mother was very weak, and it is a long
way to the sea, to the Gulf of Lepanto.
On our arrival, we entered a church, in which there were beautiful
pictures in golden frames. They were pictures of angels, fair and
bright; and yet our little Anastasia looked equally beautiful, as it
seemed to me. In the centre of the floor stood a coffin filled with
roses. My mother told me it was the Lord Jesus Christ who was
represented by these roses. Then the priest announced, "Christ is
risen," and all the people greeted each other. Each one carried a
burning taper in his hand, and one was given to me, as well as to
little Anastasia. The music sounded, and the people left the church
hand-in-hand, with joy and gladness. Outside, the women were
roasting the paschal lamb. We were invited to partake; and as I sat by
the fire, a boy, older than myself, put his arms round my neck, and
kissed me, and said, "Christ is risen." And thus it was that for the
first time I met Aphtanides.
My mother could make fishermen's nets, for which there was a great
demand here in the bay; and we lived a long time by the side of the
sea, the beautiful sea, that had a taste like tears, and in its colors
reminded me of the stag that wept red tears; for sometimes its
waters were red, and sometimes green or blue. Aphtanides knew how to
manage our boat, and I often sat in it, with my little Anastasia,
while it glided on through the water, swift as a bird flying through
