other, for she did not know what the end of this writhing would be.
"It doesn't do that with a good will," thought the Fowl, and
lifted up her head to peck at the Caterpillar.
The Toad was so horrified at this, that she came crawling straight
up towards the Fowl.
"Aha, it has allies," quoth the Fowl. "Just look at the crawling
thing!" And then the Fowl turned away. "I don't care for the little
green morsel; it would only tickle my throat." The other fowls took
the same view of it, and they all turned away together.
"I writhed myself free," said the Caterpillar. "What a good
thing it is when one has presence of mind! But the hardest thing
remains to be done, and that is to get on my leaf again. Where is it?"
And the little Toad came up and expressed her sympathy. She was
glad that in her ugliness she had frightened the fowls.
"What do you mean by that?" cried the Caterpillar. "I wriggled
myself free from the Fowl. You are very disagreeable to look at.
Cannot I be left in peace on my own property? Now I smell cabbage; now
I am near my leaf. Nothing is so beautiful as property. But I must
go higher up."
"Yes, higher up," said the little Toad; "higher-up! She feels just
as I do; but she's not in a good humor to-day. That's because of the
fright. We all want to go higher up." And she looked up as high as
ever she could.
The stork sat in his nest on the roof of the farm-house. He
clapped with his beak, and the Mother-stork clapped with hers.
"How high up they live!" thought the Toad. "If one could only
get as high as that!"
In the farm-house lived two young students; the one was a poet and
the other a scientific searcher into the secrets of nature. The one
sang and wrote joyously of everything that God had created, and how it
was mirrored in his heart. He sang it out clearly, sweetly, richly, in
well-sounding verses; while the other investigated created matter
itself, and even cut it open where need was. He looked upon God's
creation as a great sum in arithmetic- subtracted, multiplied, and
tried to know it within and without, and to talk with understanding
concerning it; and that was a very sensible thing; and he spoke
joyously and cleverly of it. They were good, joyful men, those two,
"There sits a good specimen of a toad," said the naturalist. "I
must have that fellow in a bottle of spirits."
"You have two of them already," replied the poet. "Let the thing
sit there and enjoy its life."
"But it's so wonderfully ugly," persisted the first.
"Yes, if we could find the jewel in its head," said the poet, "I
too should be for cutting it open.'
"A jewel!" cried the naturalist. "You seem to know a great deal
about natural history."
"But is there not something beautiful in the popular belief that
just as the toad is the ugliest of animals, it should often carry
the most precious jewel in its head? Is it not just the same thing
with men? What a jewel that was that Aesop had, and still more,
Socrates!"
The Toad did not hear any more, nor did she understand half of
what she had heard. The two friends walked on, and thus she escaped
the fate of being bottled up in spirits.
"Those two also were speaking of the jewel," said the Toad to
herself. "What a good thing that I have not got it! I might have
been in a very disagreeable position."
Now there was a clapping on the roof of the farm-house.
Father-Stork was making a speech to his family, and his family was
glancing down at the two young men in the kitchen garden.
"Man is the most conceited creature!" said the Stork. "Listen
how their jaws are wagging; and for all that they can't clap properly.
They boast of their gifts of eloquence and their language! Yes, a fine
language truly! Why, it changes in every day's journey we make. One of
them doesn't understand another. Now, we can speak our language over
the whole earth- up in the North and in Egypt. And then men are not
able to fly, moreover. They rush along by means of an invention they
call 'railway;' but they often break their necks over it. It makes
my beak turn cold when I think of it. The world could get on without
men. We could do without them very well, so long as we only keep frogs
and earth-worms."
"That was a powerful speech," thought the little Toad. "What a
great man that is yonder! and how high he sits! Higher than ever I saw
any one sit yet; and how he can swim!" she cried, as the Stork
soared away through the air with outspread pinions.
And the Mother-Stork began talking in the nest, and told about
Egypt and the waters of the Nile, and the incomparable mud that was to
be found in that strange land; and all this sounded new and very
charming to the little Toad.
"I must go to Egypt!" said she. "If the Stork or one of his
young ones would only take me! I would oblige him in return. Yes, I
shall get to Egypt, for I feel so happy! All the longing and all the
pleasure that I feel is much better than having a jewel in one's
head."
And it was just she who had the jewel. That jewel was the
continual striving and desire to go upward- ever upward. It gleamed in
her head, gleamed in joy, beamed brightly in her longing.
Then, suddenly, up came the Stork. He had seen the Toad in the
grass, and stooped down and seized the little creature anything but
gently. The Stork's beak pinched her, and the wind whistled; it was
not exactly agreeable, but she was going upward- upward towards Egypt-
and she knew it; and that was why her eyes gleamed, and a spark seemed
to fly out of them.
"Quunk!- ah!"
The body was dead- the Toad was killed! But the spark that had
shot forth from her eyes; what became of that?
The sunbeam took it up; the sunbeam carried the jewel from the
head of the toad. Whither?
Ask not the naturalist; rather ask the poet. He will tell it
thee under the guise of a fairy tale; and the Caterpillar on the
cabbage, and the Stork family belong to the story. Think! the
Caterpillar is changed, and turns into a beautiful butterfly; the
Stork family flies over mountains and seas, to the distant Africa, and
yet finds the shortest way home to the same country- to the same roof.
Nay, that is almost too improbable; and yet it is true. You may ask
the naturalist, he will confess it is so; and you know it yourself,
for you have seen it.
But the jewel in the head of the toad?
Seek it in the sun; see it there if you can.
The brightness is too dazzling there. We have not yet such eyes as
can see into the glories which God has created, but we shall receive
them by-and-by; and that will be the most beautiful story of all,
and we shall all have our share in it.
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE TOP AND BALL
by Hans Christian Andersen
A WHIPPING TOP and a little ball lay together in a box, among
other toys, and the top said to the ball, "Shall we be married, as
we live in the same box?"
But the ball, which wore a dress of morocco leather, and thought
as much of herself as any other young lady, would not even
condescend to reply.
The next day came the little boy to whom the playthings
belonged, and he painted the top red and yellow, and drove a
brass-headed nail into the middle, so that while the top was
spinning round it looked splendid.
"Look at me," said the top to the ball. "What do you say now?
Shall we be engaged to each other? We should suit so well; you spring,
and I dance. No one could be happier than we should be."
"Indeed! do you think so? Perhaps you do not know that my father
and mother were morocco slippers, and that I have a Spanish cork in my
body."
"Yes; but I am made of mahogany," said the top. "The major himself
turned me. He has a turning lathe of his own, and it is a great
amusement to him."
"Can I believe it?" asked the ball.
"May I never be whipped again," said the top, "if I am not telling
you the truth."
"You certainly know how to speak for yourself very well," said the
ball; "but I cannot accept your proposal. I am almost engaged to a
swallow. Every time I fly up in the air, he puts his head out of the
nest, and says, 'Will you?' and I have said, 'Yes,' to myself
silently, and that is as good as being half engaged; but I will
promise never to forget you."
"Much good that will be to me," said the top; and they spoke to
each other no more.
Next day the ball was taken out by the boy. The top saw it
flying high in the air, like a bird, till it would go quite out of
sight. Each time it came back, as it touched the earth, it gave a
higher leap than before, either because it longed to fly upwards, or
from having a Spanish cork in its body. But the ninth time it rose
in the air, it remained away, and did not return. The boy searched
everywhere for it, but he searched in vain, for it could not be found;
it was gone.
"I know very well where she is," sighed the top; "she is in the
swallow's nest, and has married the swallow."
The more the top thought of this, the more he longed for the ball.
His love increased the more, just because he could not get her; and
that she should have been won by another, was the worst of all. The
top still twirled about and hummed, but he continued to think of the
ball; and the more he thought of her, the more beautiful she seemed to
his fancy.
Thus several years passed by, and his love became quite old. The
top, also, was no longer young; but there came a day when he looked
handsomer than ever; for he was gilded all over. He was now a golden
top, and whirled and danced about till he hummed quite loud, and was
something worth looking at; but one day he leaped too high, and then
he, also, was gone. They searched everywhere, even in the cellar,
but he was nowhere to be found. Where could he be? He had jumped
into the dust-bin, where all sorts of rubbish were lying:
cabbage-stalks, dust, and rain-droppings that had fallen down from the
gutter under the roof.
"Now I am in a nice place," said he; "my gilding will soon be
washed off here. Oh dear, what a set of rabble I have got amongst!"
And then he glanced at a curious round thing like an old apple,
which lay near a long, leafless cabbage-stalk. It was, however, not an
apple, but an old ball, which had lain for years in the gutter, and
was soaked through with water.
"Thank goodness, here comes one of my own class, with whom I can
talk," said the ball, examining the gilded top. "I am made of
morocco," she said. "I was sewn together by a young lady, and I have a
Spanish cork in my body; but no one would think it, to look at me now.
I was once engaged to a swallow; but I fell in here from the gutter
under the roof, and I have lain here more than five years, and have
been thoroughly drenched. Believe me, it is a long time for a young
maiden."
The top said nothing, but he thought of his old love; and the more
she said, the more clear it became to him that this was the same ball.
The servant then came to clean out the dust-bin.
"Ah," she exclaimed, "here is a gilt top." So the top was
brought again to notice and honor, but nothing more was heard of the
little ball. He spoke not a word about his old love; for that soon
died away. When the beloved object has lain for five years in a
gutter, and has been drenched through, no one cares to know her
again on meeting her in a dust-bin.
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE TRAVELLING COMPANION
by Hans Christian Andersen
POOR John was very sad; for his father was so ill, he had no
hope of his recovery. John sat alone with the sick man in the little
room, and the lamp had nearly burnt out; for it was late in the night.
"You have been a good son, John," said the sick father, "and God
will help you on in the world." He looked at him, as he spoke, with
mild, earnest eyes, drew a deep sigh, and died; yet it appeared as
if he still slept.
John wept bitterly. He had no one in the wide world now; neither
father, mother, brother, nor sister. Poor John! he knelt down by the
bed, kissed his dead father's hand, and wept many, many bitter
tears. But at last his eyes closed, and he fell asleep with his head
resting against the hard bedpost. Then he dreamed a strange dream;
he thought he saw the sun shining upon him, and his father alive and
well, and even heard him laughing as he used to do when he was very
happy. A beautiful girl, with a golden crown on her head, and long,
shining hair, gave him her hand; and his father said, "See what a
bride you have won. She is the loveliest maiden on the whole earth."
Then he awoke, and all the beautiful things vanished before his
eyes, his father lay dead on the bed, and he was all alone. Poor John!
During the following week the dead man was buried. The son
walked behind the coffin which contained his father, whom he so dearly
loved, and would never again behold. He heard the earth fall on the
coffin-lid, and watched it till only a corner remained in sight, and
at last that also disappeared. He felt as if his heart would break
with its weight of sorrow, till those who stood round the grave sang a
