IN THE NURSERY
by Hans Christian Andersen
FATHER, and mother, and brothers, and sisters, were gone to the
play; only little Anna and her grandpapa were left at home.
"We'll have a play too," he said, "and it may begin immediately."
"But we have no theatre," cried little Anna, "and we have no one
to act for us; my old doll cannot, for she is a fright, and my new one
cannot, for she must not rumple her new clothes."
"One can always get actors if one makes use of what one has,"
observed grandpapa.
"Now we'll go into the theatre. Here we will put up a book,
there another, and there a third, in a sloping row. Now three on the
other side; so, now we have the side scenes. The old box that lies
yonder may be the back stairs; and we'll lay the flooring on top of
it. The stage represents a room, as every one may see. Now we want the
actors. Let us see what we can find in the plaything-box. First the
personages, and then we will get the play ready. One after the
other; that will be capital! Here's a pipe-head, and yonder an odd
glove; they will do very well for father and daughter."
"But those are only two characters," said little Anna. "Here's
my brother's old waistcoat- could not that play in our piece, too?"
"It's big enough, certainly," replied grandpapa. "It shall be
the lover. There's nothing in the pockets, and that's very
interesting, for that's half of an unfortunate attachment. And here we
have the nut-cracker's boots, with spurs to them. Row, dow, dow! how
they can stamp and strut! They shall represent the unwelcome wooer,
whom the lady does not like. What kind of a play will you have now?
Shall it be a tragedy, or a domestic drama?"
"A domestic drama, please," said little Anna, "for the others
are so fond of that. Do you know one?"
"I know a hundred," said grandpapa. "Those that are most in
favor are from the French, but they are not good for little girls.
In the meantime, we may take one of the prettiest, for inside
they're all very much alike. Now I shake the pen! Cock-a-lorum! So
now, here's the play, brin-bran-span new! Now listen to the
play-bill."
And grandpapa took a newspaper, and read as if he were reading
from it:
THE PIPE-HEAD AND THE GOOD HEAD
A Family Drama in One Act
CHARACTERS
MR. PIPE-HEAD, a father. MR. WAISTCOAT, a lover.
MISS GLOVE, a daughter. MR. DE BOOTS, a suitor.
"And now we're going to begin. The curtain rises. We have no
curtain, so it has risen already. All the characters are there, and so
we have them at hand. Now I speak as Papa Pipe-head! He's angry
to-day. One can see that he's a colored meerschaum.
"'Snik, snak, snurre, bassellurre! I'm master of this house! I'm
the father of my daughter! Will you hear what I have to say? Mr. de
Boots is a person in whom one may see one's face; his upper part is of
morocco, and he has spurs into the bargain. Snikke, snakke, snak! He
shall have my daughter!"
"Now listen to what the Waistcoat says, little Anna," said
grandpapa. "Now the Waistcoat's speaking. The Waistcoat has a
laydown collar, and is very modest; but he knows his own value, and
has quite a right to say what he says:
"'I haven't a spot on me! Goodness of material ought to be
appreciated. I am of real silk, and have strings to me.'
"'- On the wedding day, but no longer; you don't keep your color
in the wash.' This is Mr. Pipe-head who is speaking. 'Mr. de Boots
is water-tight, of strong leather, and yet very delicate; he can
creak, and clank with his spurs, and has an Italian physiognomy-'"
"But they ought to speak in verses," said Anna, "for I've heard
that's the most charming way of all."
"They can do that too," replied grandpapa; "and if the public
demands it, they will talk in that way. Just look at little Miss
Glove, how she's pointing her fingers!
"'Could I but have my love,
Who then so happy as Glove!
Ah!
If I from him must part,
I'm sure 'twill break my heart!'
'Bah!'
The last word was spoken by Mr. Pipe-head; and now it's Mr.
Waistcoat's turn:
"'O Glove, my own dear,
Though it cost thee a tear,
Thou must be mine,
For Holger Danske has sworn it!'
"Mr. de Boots, hearing this, kicks up, jingles his spurs, and
knocks down three of the side-scenes."
"That's exceedingly charming!" cried little Anna.
"Silence! silence!" said grandpapa. "Silent approbation will
show that you are the educated public in the stalls. Now Miss Glove
sings her great song with startling effects:
"'I can't see, heigho!
And therefore I'll crow!
Kikkeriki, in the lofty hall!'
"Now comes the exciting part, little Anna. This is the most
important in all the play. Mr. Waistcoat undoes himself, and addresses
his speech to you, that you may applaud; but leave it alone,- that's
considered more genteel.
"'I am driven to extremities! Take care of yourself! Now comes the
plot! You are the Pipe-head, and I am the good head- snap! there you
go!"
"Do you notice this, little Anna?" asked grandpapa. "That's a most
charming comedy. Mr. Waistcoat seized the old Pipe-head and put him in
his pocket; there he lies, and the Waistcoat says:
"'You are in my pocket; you can't come out till you promise to
unite me to your daughter Glove on the left. I hold out my right
hand.'"
"That's awfully pretty," said little Anna.
"And now the old Pipe-head replies:
"'Though I'm all ear,
Very stupid I appear:
Where's my humor? Gone, I fear,
And I feel my hollow stick's not here,
Ah! never, my dear,
Did I feel so queer.
Oh! pray let me out,
And like a lamb led to slaughter
I'll betroth you, no doubt,
To my daughter.'"
"Is the play over already?" asked little Anna.
"By no means," replied grandpapa. "It's only all over with Mr.
de Boots. Now the lovers kneel down, and one of them sings:
"'Father!'
and the other,
'Come, do as you ought to do,-
Bless your son and daughter.'
And they receive his blessing, and celebrate their wedding, and all
the pieces of furniture sing in chorus,
"'Klink! clanks!
A thousand thanks;
And now the play is over!'
"And now we'll applaud," said grandpapa. "We'll call them all out,
and the pieces of furniture too, for they are of mahogany."
"And is not our play just as good as those which the others have
in the real theatre?"
"Our play is much better," said grandpapa. "It is shorter, the
performers are natural, and it has passed away the interval before
tea-time."
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
IN THE UTTERMOST PARTS OF THE SEA
by Hans Christian Andersen
SOME years ago, large ships were sent towards the north pole, to
explore the distant coasts, and to try how far men could penetrate
into those unknown regions. For more than a year one of these ships
had been pushing its way northward, amid snow and ice, and the sailors
had endured many hardships; till at length winter set in, and the
sun entirely disappeared; for many weeks there would be constant
night. All around, as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be
seen but fields of ice, in which the ship remained stuck fast. The
snow lay piled up in great heaps, and of these the sailors made
huts, in the form of bee-hives, some of them as large and spacious
as one of the "Huns' graves," and others only containing room enough
to hold three or four men. It was not quite dark; the northern
lights shot forth red and blue flames, like continuous fireworks,
and the snow glittered, and reflected back the light, so that the
night here was one long twilight. When the moon was brightest, the
natives came in crowds to see the sailors. They had a very singular
appearance in their rough, hairy dresses of fur, and riding in sledges
over the ice. They brought with them furs and skins in great
abundance, so that the snow-houses were soon provided with warm
carpets, and the furs also served for the sailors to wrap themselves
in, when they slept under the roofs of snow, while outside it was
freezing with a cold far more severe than in the winter with us. In
our country it was still autumn, though late in the season; and they
thought of that in their distant exile, and often pictured to
themselves the yellow leaves on the trees at home. Their watches
pointed to the hours of evening, and time to go to sleep, although
in these regions it was now always night.
In one of the huts, two of the men laid themselves down to rest.
The younger of these men had brought with him from home his best,
his dearest treasure- a Bible, which his grandmother had given him
on his departure. Every night the sacred volume rested under his head,
and he had known from his childhood what was written in it. Every
day he read in the book, and while stretched on his cold couch, the
holy words he had learnt would come into his mind: "If I take the
wings of the morning, and fly to the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there Thou art with me, and Thy right hand shall uphold me;"
and under the influence of that faith which these holy words inspired,
sleep came upon him, and dreams, which are the manifestations of God
to the spirit. The soul lives and acts, while the body is at rest.
He felt this life in him, and it was as if he heard the sound of dear,
well-known melodies, as if the breezes of summer floated around him;
and over his couch shone a ray of brightness, as if it were shining
through the covering of his snow-roof. He lifted his head, and saw
that the bright gleaming was not the reflection of the glittering
snow, but the dazzling brightness of the pinions of a mighty angel,
into whose beaming face he was gazing. As from the cup of a lily,
the angel rose from amidst the leaves of the Bible; and, stretching
out his arm, the walls of the hut sunk down, as though they had been
formed of a light, airy veil of mist, and the green hills and
meadows of home, with its ruddy woods, lay spread around him in the
quiet sunshine of a lovely autumn day. The nest of the stork was
empty, but ripe fruit still hung on the wild apple-tree, although
the leaves had fallen. The red hips gleamed on the hedges, and the
starling which hung in the green cage outside the window of the
peasant's hut, which was his home, whistled the tune which he had
taught him. His grandmother hung green birds'-food around the cage, as
he, her grandson, had been accustomed to do. The daughter of the
village blacksmith, who was young and fair, stood at the well, drawing
water. She nodded to the grandmother, and the old woman nodded to her,
and pointed to a letter which had come from a long way off. That
very morning the letter had arrived from the cold regions of the
north; there, where the absent one was sweetly sleeping under the
protecting hand of God. They laughed and wept over the letter; and he,
far away, amid ice and snow, under the shadow of the angel's wings,
wept and smiled with them in spirit; for he saw and heard it all in
his dream. From the letter they read aloud the words of Holy Writ: "In
the uttermost parts of the sea, Thy right hand shall uphold me." And
as the angel spread his wings like a veil over the sleeper, there
was the sound of beautiful music and a hymn. Then the vision fled.
It was dark again in the snow-hut: but the Bible still rested
beneath his head, and faith and hope dwelt in his heart. God was
with him, and he carried home in his heart, even "in the uttermost
parts of the sea.
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
JACK THE DULLARD
AN OLD STORY TOLD ANEW
by Hans Christian Andersen
FAR in the interior of the country lay an old baronial hall, and
in it lived an old proprietor, who had two sons, which two young men
thought themselves too clever by half. They wanted to go out and woo
the King's daughter; for the maiden in question had publicly announced
that she would choose for her husband that youth who could arrange his
words best.
So these two geniuses prepared themselves a full week for the
wooing- this was the longest time that could be granted them; but it
was enough, for they had had much preparatory information, and
everybody knows how useful that is. One of them knew the whole Latin
