the air. Then, when the sun set, how beautifully, deeply blue, would
be the tint on the mountains, one rising above the other in the far
distance, and the summit of mount Parnassus rising above them all like
a glorious crown. Its top glittered in the evening rays like molten
gold, and it seemed as if the light came from within it; for long
after the sun had sunk beneath the horizon, the mountain-top would
glow in the clear, blue sky. The white aquatic birds skimmed the
surface of the water in their flight, and all was calm and still as
amid the black rocks at Delphi. I lay on my back in the boat,
Anastasia leaned against me, while the stars above us glittered more
brightly than the lamps in our church. They were the same stars, and
in the same position over me as when I used to sit in front of our hut
at Delphi, and I had almost begun to fancy I was still there, when
suddenly there was a splash in the water- Anastasia had fallen in; but
in a moment Aphtanides has sprung in after her, and was now holding
her up to me. We dried her clothes as well as we were able, and
remained on the water till they were dry; for we did not wish it to be
known what a fright we had had, nor the danger which our little
adopted sister had incurred, in whose life Aphtanides had now a part.
The summer came, and the burning heat of the sun tinted the leaves
of the trees with lines of gold. I thought of our cool
mountain-home, and the fresh water that flowed near it; my mother,
too, longed for if, and one evening we wandered towards home. How
peaceful and silent it was as we walked on through the thick, wild
thyme, still fragrant, though the sun had scorched the leaves. Not a
single herdsman did we meet, not a solitary hut did we pass;
everything appeared lonely and deserted- only a shooting star showed
that in the heavens there was yet life. I know not whether the
clear, blue atmosphere gleamed with its own light, or if the
radiance came from the stars; but we could distinguish quite plainly
the outline of the mountains. My mother lighted a fire, and roasted
some roots she had brought with her, and I and my little sister
slept among the bushes, without fear of the ugly smidraki, from
whose throat issues fire, or of the wolf and the jackal; for my mother
sat by us, and I considered her presence sufficient protection.
We reached our old home; but the cottage was in ruins, and we
had to build a new one. With the aid of some neighbors, chiefly women,
the walls were in a few days erected, and very soon covered with a
roof of olive-branches. My mother obtained a living by making
bottle-cases of bark and skins, and I kept the sheep belonging to
the priests, who were sometimes peasants, while I had for my
playfellows Anastasia and the turtles.
Once our beloved Aphtanides paid us a visit. He said he had been
longing to see us so much; and he remained with us two whole happy
days. A month afterwards he came again to wish us good-bye, and
brought with him a large fish for my mother. He told us he was going
in a ship to Corfu and Patras, and could relate a great many
stories, not only about the fishermen who lived near the gulf of
Lepanto, but also of kings and heroes who had once possessed Greece,
just as the Turks possess it now.
I have seen a bud on a rose-bush gradually, in the course of a few
weeks, unfold its leaves till it became a rose in all its beauty; and,
before I was aware of it, I beheld it blooming in rosy loveliness. The
same thing had happened to Anastasia. Unnoticed by me, she had
gradually become a beautiful maiden, and I was now also a stout,
strong youth. The wolf-skins that covered the bed in which my mother
and Anastasia slept, had been taken from wolves which I had myself
shot.
Years had gone by when, one evening, Aphtanides came in. He had
grown tall and slender as a reed, with strong limbs, and a dark, brown
skin. He kissed us all, and had so much to tell of what he had seen of
the great ocean, of the fortifications at Malta, and of the marvellous
sepulchres of Egypt, that I looked up to him with a kind of
veneration. His stories were as strange as the legends of the
priests of olden times.
"How much you know!" I exclaimed, "and what wonders you can
relate?"
"I think what you once told me, the finest of all," he replied;
"you told me of a thing that has never been out of my thoughts- of the
good old custom of 'the bond of friendship,'- a custom I should like
to follow. Brother, let you and I go to church, as your father and
Anastasia's father once did. Your sister Anastasia is the most
beautiful and most innocent of maidens, and she shall consecrate the
deed. No people have such grand old customs as we Greeks."
Anastasia blushed like a young rose, and my mother kissed
Aphtanides.
At about two miles from our cottage, where the earth on the hill
is sheltered by a few scattered trees, stood the little church, with a
silver lamp hanging before the altar. I put on my best clothes, and
the white tunic fell in graceful folds over my hips. The red jacket
fitted tight and close, the tassel on my Fez cap was of silver, and in
my girdle glittered a knife and my pistols. Aphtanides was clad in the
blue dress worn by the Greek sailors; on his breast hung a silver
medal with the figure of the Virgin Mary, and his scarf was as
costly as those worn by rich lords. Every one could see that we were
about to perform a solemn ceremony. When we entered the little,
unpretending church, the evening sunlight streamed through the open
door on the burning lamp, and glittered on the golden picture
frames. We knelt down together on the altar steps, and Anastasia
drew near and stood beside us. A long, white garment fell in
graceful folds over her delicate form, and on her white neck and bosom
hung a chain entwined with old and new coins, forming a kind of
collar. Her black hair was fastened into a knot, and confined by a
headdress formed of gold and silver coins which had been found in an
ancient temple. No Greek girl had more beautiful ornaments than these.
Her countenance glowed, and her eyes were like two stars. We all three
offered a silent prayer, and then she said to us, "Will you be friends
in life and in death?"
"Yes," we replied.
"Will you each remember to say, whatever may happen, 'My brother
is a part of myself; his secret is my secret, my happiness is his;
self-sacrifice, patience, everything belongs to me as they do to
him?'"
And we again answered, "Yes." Then she joined out hands and kissed
us on the forehead, and we again prayed silently. After this a
priest came through a door near the altar, and blessed us all three.
Then a song was sung by other holy men behind the altar-screen, and
the bond of eternal friendship was confirmed. When we arose, I saw
my mother standing by the church door, weeping.
How cheerful everything seemed now in our little cottage by the
Delphian springs! On the evening before his departure, Aphtanides
sat thoughtfully beside me on the slopes of the mountain. His arm
was flung around me, and mine was round his neck. We spoke of the
sorrows of Greece, and of the men of the country who could be trusted.
Every thought of our souls lay clear before us. Presently I seized his
hand: "Aphtanides," I exclaimed, "there is one thing still that you
must know,- one thing that till now has been a secret between myself
and Heaven. My whole soul is filled with love,- with a love stronger
than the love I bear to my mother and to thee.
"And whom do you love?" asked Aphtanides. And his face and neck
grew red as fire.
"I love Anastasia," I replied.
Then his hand trembled in mine, and he became pale as a corpse.
I saw it, I understood the cause, and I believe my hand trembled
too. I bent towards him, I kissed his forehead, and whispered, "I have
never spoken of this to her, and perhaps she does not love me.
Brother, think of this; I have seen her daily, she has grown up beside
me, and has become a part of my soul."
"And she shall be thine," he exclaimed; "thine! I may not wrong
thee, nor will I do so. I also love her, but tomorrow I depart. In a
year we will see each other again, but then you will be married; shall
it not be so? I have a little gold of my own, it shall be yours. You
must and shall take it."
We wandered silently homeward across the mountains. It was late in
the evening when we reached my mother's door. Anastasia held the
lamp as we entered; my mother was not there. She looked at
Aphtanides with a sweet but mournful expression on her face.
"To-morrow you are going to leave us," she said. "I am very sorry."
"Sorry!" he exclaimed, and his voice was troubled with a grief
as deep as my own. I could not speak; but he seized her hand and said,
"Our brother yonder loves you, and is he not dear to you? His very
silence now proves his affection."
Anastasia trembled, and burst into tears. Then I saw no one,
thought of none, but her. I threw my arms round her, and pressed my
lips to hers. As she flung her arms round my neck, the lamp fell to
the ground, and we were in darkness, dark as the heart of poor
Aphtanides.
Before daybreak he rose, kissed us all, and said "Farewell," and
went away. He had given all his money to my mother for us. Anastasia
was betrothed to me, and in a few days afterwards she became my wife.
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE SHIRT-COLLAR
by Hans Christian Andersen
THERE was once a fine gentleman who possessed among other things a
boot-jack and a hair-brush; but he had also the finest shirt-collar in
the world, and of this collar we are about to hear a story. The collar
had become so old that he began to think about getting married; and
one day he happened to find himself in the same washing-tub as a
garter. "Upon my word," said the shirt-collar, "I have never seen
anything so slim and delicate, so neat and soft before. May I
venture to ask your name?"
"I shall not tell you," replied the garter.
"Where do you reside when you are at home?" asked the
shirt-collar. But the garter was naturally shy, and did not know how
to answer such a question.
"I presume you are a girdle," said the shirt-collar, "a sort of
under girdle. I see that you are useful, as well as ornamental, my
little lady."
"You must not speak to me," said the garter; "I do not think I
have given you any encouragement to do so."
"Oh, when any one is as beautiful as you are," said the
shirt-collar, "is not that encouragement enough?"
"Get away; don't come so near me," said the garter, "you appear to
me quite like a man."
"I am a fine gentleman certainly," said the shirt-collar, "I
possess a boot-jack and a hair-brush." This was not true, for these
things belonged to his master; but he was a boaster.
"Don't come so near me," said the garter; "I am not accustomed
to it."
"Affectation!" said the shirt-collar.
Then they were taken out of the wash-tub, starched, and hung
over a chair in the sunshine, and then laid on the ironing-board.
And now came the glowing iron. "Mistress widow," said the
shirt-collar, "little mistress widow, I feel quite warm. I am
changing, I am losing all my creases. You are burning a hole in me.
Ugh! I propose to you."
"You old rag," said the flat-iron, driving proudly over the
collar, for she fancied herself a steam-engine, which rolls over the
railway and draws carriages. "You old rag!" said she.
The edges of the shirt-collar were a little frayed, so the
scissors were brought to cut them smooth. "Oh!" exclaimed the
shirt-collar, "what a first-rate dancer you would make; you can
stretch out your leg so well. I never saw anything so charming; I am
sure no human being could do the same."
"I should think not," replied the scissors.
"You ought to be a countess," said the shirt collar; "but all I
possess consists of a fine gentleman, a boot-jack, and a comb. I
wish I had an estate for your sake."
"What! is he going to propose to me?" said the scissors, and she
became so angry that she cut too sharply into the shirt collar, and it
was obliged to be thrown by as useless.
"I shall be obliged to propose to the hair-brush," thought the
shirt collar; so he remarked one day, "It is wonderful what
beautiful hair you have, my little lady. Have you never thought of
being engaged?"
"You might know I should think of it," answered the hair brush; "I
am engaged to the boot-jack."
"Engaged!" cried the shirt collar, "now there is no one left to
propose to;" and then he pretended to despise all love-making.
A long time passed, and the shirt collar was taken in a bag to the
paper-mill. Here was a large company of rags, the fine ones lying by
themselves, separated from the coarser, as it ought to be. They had
all many things to relate, especially the shirt collar, who was a
terrible boaster. "I have had an immense number of love affairs," said
the shirt collar, "no one left me any peace. It is true I was a very
fine gentleman; quite stuck up. I had a boot-jack and a brush that I
never used. You should have seen me then, when I was turned down. I
shall never forget my first love; she was a girdle, so charming, and
fine, and soft, and she threw herself into a washing tub for my
sake. There was a widow too, who was warmly in love with me, but I
