Sunday I went to the house of God to pray for light to direct my path.
It seemed like a providence that as I stepped out of church Eric
came towards me; and then there remained not a doubt in my mind. We
were suited to each other in rank and circumstances. He was, even
then, a man of good means. I went up to him, and took his hand, and
said, 'Do you still feel the same for me?' 'Yes; ever and always,'
said he. 'Will you, then, marry a maiden who honors and esteems you,
although she cannot offer you her love? but that may come.' 'Yes, it
will come,' said he; and we joined our hands together, and I went home
to my mistress. The gold ring which her son had given me I wore next
to my heart. I could not place it on my finger during the daytime, but
only in the evening, when I went to bed. I kissed the ring till my
lips almost bled, and then I gave it to my mistress, and told her that
the banns were to be put up for me and the glovemaker the following
week. Then my mistress threw her arms round me, and kissed me. She did
not say that I was 'good for nothing;' very likely I was better then
than I am now; but the misfortunes of this world, were unknown to me
then. At Michaelmas we were married, and for the first year everything
went well with us. We had a journeyman and an apprentice, and you were
our servant, Martha."
"Ah, yes, and you were a dear, good mistress," said Martha, "I
shall never forget how kind you and your husband were to me."
"Yes, those were happy years when you were with us, although we
had no children at first. The student I never met again. Yet I saw him
once, although he did not see me. He came to his mother's funeral. I
saw him, looking pale as death, and deeply troubled, standing at her
grave; for she was his mother. Sometime after, when his father died,
he was in foreign lands, and did not come home. I know that he never
married, I believe he became a lawyer. He had forgotten me, and even
had we met he would not have known me, for I have lost all my good
looks, and perhaps that is all for the best." And then she spoke of
the dark days of trial, when misfortune had fallen upon them.
"We had five hundred dollars," she said, "and there was a house in
the street to be sold for two hundred, so we thought it would be worth
our while to pull it down and build a new one in its place; so it
was bought. The builder and carpenter made an estimate that the new
house would cost ten hundred and twenty dollars to build. Eric had
credit, so he borrowed the money in the chief town. But the captain,
who was bringing it to him, was shipwrecked, and the money lost.
Just about this time, my dear sweet boy, who lies sleeping there,
was born, and my husband was attacked with a severe lingering illness.
For three quarters of a year I was obliged to dress and undress him.
We were backward in our payments, we borrowed more money, and all that
we had was lost and sold, and then my husband died. Since then I
have worked, toiled, and striven for the sake of the child. I have
scrubbed and washed both coarse and fine linen, but I have not been
able to make myself better off; and it was God's will. In His own time
He will take me to Himself, but I know He will never forsake my
boy." Then she fell asleep. In the morning she felt much refreshed,
and strong enough, as she thought, to go on with her work. But as soon
as she stepped into the cold water, a sudden faintness seized her; she
clutched at the air convulsively with her hand, took one step forward,
and fell. Her head rested on dry land, but her feet were in the water;
her wooden shoes, which were only tied on by a wisp of straw, were
carried away by the stream, and thus she was found by Martha when
she came to bring her some coffee.
In the meantime a messenger had been sent to her house by the
mayor, to say that she must come to him immediately, as he had
something to tell her. It was too late; a surgeon had been sent for to
open a vein in her arm, but the poor woman was dead.
"She has drunk herself to death," said the cruel mayor. In the
letter, containing the news of his brother's death, it was stated that
he had left in his will a legacy of six hundred dollars to the
glovemaker's widow, who had been his mother's maid, to be paid with
discretion, in large or small sums to the widow or her child.
"There was something between my brother and her, I remember," said
the mayor; "it is a good thing that she is out of the way, for now the
boy will have the whole. I will place him with honest people to
bring him up, that he may become a respectable working man." And the
blessing of God rested upon these words. The mayor sent for the boy to
come to him, and promised to take care of him, but most cruelly
added that it was a good thing that his mother was dead, for "she
was good for nothing." They carried her to the churchyard, the
churchyard in which the poor were buried. Martha strewed sand on the
grave and planted a rose-tree upon it, and the boy stood by her side.
"Oh, my poor mother!" he cried, while the tears rolled down his
cheeks. "Is it true what they say, that she was good for nothing?"
"No, indeed, it is not true," replied the old servant, raising her
eyes to heaven; "she was worth a great deal; I knew it years ago,
and since the last night of her life I am more certain of it than
ever. I say she was a good and worthy woman, and God, who is in
heaven, knows I am speaking the truth, though the world may say,
even now she was good for nothing."
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
SOMETHING
by Hans Christian Andersen
SOMETHING
"I MEAN to be somebody, and do something useful in the world,"
said the eldest of five brothers. "I don't care how humble my position
is, so that I can only do some good, which will be something. I intend
to be a brickmaker; bricks are always wanted, and I shall be really
doing something."
"Your 'something' is not enough for me," said the second
brother; "what you talk of doing is nothing at all, it is journeyman's
work, or might even be done by a machine. No! I should prefer to be
a builder at once, there is something real in that. A man gains a
position, he becomes a citizen, has his own sign, his own house of
call for his workmen: so I shall be a builder. If all goes well, in
time I shall become a master, and have my own journeymen, and my
wife will be treated as a master's wife. This is what I call
something."
"I call it all nothing," said the third; "not in reality any
position. There are many in a town far above a master builder in
position. You may be an upright man, but even as a master you will
only be ranked among common men. I know better what to do than that. I
will be an architect, which will place me among those who possess
riches and intellect, and who speculate in art. I shall certainly have
to rise by my own endeavors from a bricklayer's laborer, or as a
carpenter's apprentice- a lad wearing a paper cap, although I now wear
a silk hat. I shall have to fetch beer and spirits for the journeymen,
and they will call me 'thou,' which will be an insult. I shall
endure it, however, for I shall look upon it all as a mere
representation, a masquerade, a mummery, which to-morrow, that is,
when I myself as a journeyman, shall have served my time, will vanish,
and I shall go my way, and all that has passed will be nothing to
me. Then I shall enter the academy, and get instructed in drawing, and
be called an architect. I may even attain to rank, and have
something placed before or after my name, and I shall build as
others have done before me. By this there will be always 'something'
to make me remembered, and is not that worth living for?"
"Not in my opinion," said the fourth; "I will never follow the
lead of others, and only imitate what they have done. I will be a
genius, and become greater than all of you together. I will create a
new style of building, and introduce a plan for erecting houses
suitable to the climate, with material easily obtained in the country,
and thus suit national feeling and the developments of the age,
besides building a storey for my own genius."
"But supposing the climate and the material are not good for
much," said the fifth brother, "that would be very unfortunate for
you, and have an influence over your experiments. Nationality may
assert itself until it becomes affectation, and the developments of
a century may run wild, as youth often does. I see clearly that none
of you will ever really be anything worth notice, however you may
now fancy it. But do as you like, I shall not imitate you. I mean to
keep clear of all these things, and criticize what you do. In every
action something imperfect may be discovered, something not right,
which I shall make it my business to find out and expose; that will be
something, I fancy." And he kept his word, and became a critic.
People said of this fifth brother, "There is something very
precise about him; he has a good head-piece, but he does nothing." And
on that very account they thought he must be something.
Now, you see, this is a little history which will never end; as
long as the world exists, there will always be men like these five
brothers. And what became of them? Were they each nothing or
something? You shall hear; it is quite a history.
The eldest brother, he who fabricated bricks, soon discovered that
each brick, when finished, brought him in a small coin, if only a
copper one; and many copper pieces, if placed one upon another, can be
changed into a shining shilling; and at whatever door a person knocks,
who has a number of these in his hands, whether it be the baker's, the
butcher's, or the tailor's, the door flies open, and he can get all he
wants. So you see the value of bricks. Some of the bricks, however,
crumbled to pieces, or were broken, but the elder brother found a
use for even these.
On the high bank of earth, which formed a dyke on the sea-coast, a
poor woman named Margaret wished to build herself a house, so all
the imperfect bricks were given to her, and a few whole ones with
them; for the eldest brother was a kind-hearted man, although he never
achieved anything higher than making bricks. The poor woman built
herself a little house- it was small and narrow, and the window was
quite crooked, the door too low, and the straw roof might have been
better thatched. But still it was a shelter, and from within you could
look far over the sea, which dashed wildly against the sea-wall on
which the little house was built. The salt waves sprinkled their white
foam over it, but it stood firm, and remained long after he who had
given the bricks to build it was dead and buried.
The second brother of course knew better how to build than poor
Margaret, for he served an apprenticeship to learn it. When his time
was up, he packed up his knapsack, and went on his travels, singing
the journeyman's song,-
"While young, I can wander without a care,
And build new houses everywhere;
Fair and bright are my dreams of home,
Always thought of wherever I roam.
Hurrah for a workman's life of glee!
There's a loved one at home who thinks of me;
Home and friends I can ne'er forget,
And I mean to be a master yet."
And that is what he did. On his return home, he became a master
builder,- built one house after another in the town, till they
formed quite a street, which, when finished, became really an ornament
to the town. These houses built a house for him in return, which was
to be his own. But how can houses build a house? If the houses were
asked, they could not answer; but the people would understand, and
say, "Certainly the street built his house for him." It was not very
large, and the floor was of lime; but when he danced with his bride on
the lime-covered floor, it was to him white and shining, and from
every stone in the wall flowers seemed to spring forth and decorate
the room as with the richest tapestry. It was really a pretty house,
and in it were a happy pair. The flag of the corporation fluttered
before it, and the journeymen and apprentices shouted "Hurrah." He had
gained his position, he had made himself something, and at last he
died, which was "something" too.
Now we come to the architect, the third brother, who had been
first a carpenter's apprentice, had worn a cap, and served as an
errand boy, but afterwards went to the academy, and risen to be an
architect, a high and noble gentleman. Ah yes, the houses of the new
street, which the brother who was a master builder erected, may have
built his house for him, but the street received its name from the
architect, and the handsomest house in the street became his property.
That was something, and he was "something," for he had a list of
titles before and after his name. His children were called "wellborn,"
and when he died, his widow was treated as a lady of position, and
that was "something." His name remained always written at the corner
of the street, and lived in every one's mouth as its name. Yes, this
also was something."
And what about the genius of the family- the fourth brother- who
wanted to invent something new and original? He tried to build a lofty
storey himself, but it fell to pieces, and he fell with it and broke
his neck. However, he had a splendid funeral, with the city flags
