and music in the procession; flowers were strewn on the pavement,
and three orations were spoken over his grave, each one longer than
the other. He would have liked this very much during his life, as well
as the poems about him in the papers, for he liked nothing so well
as to be talked of. A monument was also erected over his grave. It was
only another storey over him, but that was "something," Now he was
dead, like the three other brothers.
The youngest- the critic- outlived them all, which was quite right
for him. It gave him the opportunity of having the last word, which to
him was of great importance. People always said he had a good
head-piece. At last his hour came, and he died, and arrived at the
gates of heaven. Souls always enter these gates in pairs; so he
found himself standing and waiting for admission with another; and who
should it be but old dame Margaret, from the house on the dyke! "It is
evidently for the sake of contrast that I and this wretched soul
should arrive here exactly at the same time," said the critic. "Pray
who are you, my good woman?" said he; "do you want to get in here
too?"
And the old woman curtsied as well as she could; she thought it
must be St. Peter himself who spoke to her. "I am a poor old woman,"
she said, "without my family. I am old Margaret, that lived in the
house on the dyke."
"Well, and what have you done- what great deed have you
performed down below?"
"I have done nothing at all in the world that could give me a
claim to have these doors open for me," she said. "It would be only
through mercy that I can be allowed to slip in through the gate."
"In what manner did you leave the world?" he asked, just for the
sake of saying something; for it made him feel very weary to stand
there and wait.
"How I left the world?" she replied; "why, I can scarcely tell
you. During the last years of my life I was sick and miserable, and
I was unable to bear creeping out of bed suddenly into the frost and
cold. Last winter was a hard winter, but I have got over it all now.
There were a few mild days, as your honor, no doubt, knows. The ice
lay thickly on the lake, as far one could see. The people came from
the town, and walked upon it, and they say there were dancing and
skating upon it, I believe, and a great feasting. The sound of
beautiful music came into my poor little room where I lay. Towards
evening, when the moon rose beautifully, though not yet in her full
splendor, I glanced from my bed over the wide sea; and there, just
where the sea and sky met, rose a curious white cloud. I lay looking
at the cloud till I observed a little black spot in the middle of
it, which gradually grew larger and larger, and then I knew what it
meant- I am old and experienced; and although this token is not
often seen, I knew it, and a shuddering seized me. Twice in my life
had I seen this same thing, and I knew that there would be an awful
storm, with a spring tide, which would overwhelm the poor people who
were now out on the ice, drinking, dancing, and making merry. Young
and old, the whole city, were there; who was to warn them, if no one
noticed the sign, or knew what it meant as I did? I was so alarmed,
that I felt more strength and life than I had done for some time. I
got out of bed, and reached the window; I could not crawl any
farther from weakness and exhaustion; but I managed to open the
window. I saw the people outside running and jumping about on the ice;
I saw the beautiful flags waving in the wind; I heard the boys
shouting, 'Hurrah!' and the lads and lasses singing, and everything
full of merriment and joy. But there was the white cloud with the
black spot hanging over them. I cried out as loudly as I could, but no
one heard me; I was too far off from the people. Soon would the
storm burst, the ice break, and all who were on it be irretrievably
lost. They could not hear me, and to go to them was quite out of my
power. Oh, if I could only get them safe on land! Then came the
thought, as if from heaven, that I would rather set fire to my bed,
and let the house be burnt down, than that so many people should
perish miserably. I got a light, and in a few moments the red flames
leaped up as a beacon to them. I escaped fortunately as far as the
threshold of the door; but there I fell down and remained: I could
go no farther. The flames rushed out towards me, flickered on the
window, and rose high above the roof. The people on the ice became
aware of the fire, and ran as fast as possible to help a poor sick
woman, who, as they thought, was being burnt to death. There was not
one who did not run. I heard them coming, and I also at the same
time was conscious of a rush of air and a sound like the roar of heavy
artillery. The spring flood was lifting the ice covering, which
brake into a thousand pieces. But the people had reached the sea-wall,
where the sparks were flying round. I had saved them all; but I
suppose I could not survive the cold and fright; so I came up here
to the gates of paradise. I am told they are open to poor creatures
such as I am, and I have now no house left on earth; but I do not
think that will give me a claim to be admitted here."
Then the gates were opened, and an angel led the old woman in. She
had dropped one little straw out of her straw bed, when she set it
on fire to save the lives of so many. It had been changed into the
purest gold- into gold that constantly grew and expanded into
flowers and fruit of immortal beauty.
"See," said the angel, pointing to the wonderful straw, "this is
what the poor woman has brought. What dost thou bring? I know thou
hast accomplished nothing, not even made a single brick. Even if
thou couldst return, and at least produce so much, very likely, when
made, the brick would be useless, unless done with a good will,
which is always something. But thou canst not return to earth, and I
can do nothing for thee."
Then the poor soul, the old mother who had lived in the house on
the dyke, pleaded for him. She said, "His brother made all the stone
and bricks, and sent them to me to build my poor little dwelling,
which was a great deal to do for a poor woman like me. Could not all
these bricks and pieces be as a wall of stone to prevail for him? It
is an act of mercy; he is wanting it now; and here is the very
fountain of mercy."
"Then," said the angel, "thy brother, he who has been looked
upon as the meanest of you all, he whose honest deeds to thee appeared
so humble,- it is he who has sent you this heavenly gift. Thou shalt
not be turned away. Thou shalt have permission to stand without the
gate and reflect, and repent of thy life on earth; but thou shalt
not be admitted here until thou hast performed one good deed of
repentance, which will indeed for thee be something."
"I could have expressed that better," thought the critic; but he
did not say it aloud, which for him was SOMETHING, after all.
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
SOUP FROM A SAUSAGE SKEWER
by Hans Christian Andersen
"WE had such an excellent dinner yesterday," said an old mouse
of the female sex to another who had not been present at the feast. "I
sat number twenty-one below the mouse-king, which was not a bad place.
Shall I tell you what we had? Everything was first rate. Mouldy bread,
tallow candle, and sausage. And then, when we had finished that
course, the same came on all over again; it was as good as two feasts.
We were very sociable, and there was as much joking and fun as if we
had been all of one family circle. Nothing was left but the sausage
skewers, and this formed a subject of conversation, till at last it
turned to the proverb, 'Soup from sausage skins;' or, as the people in
the neighboring country call it, 'Soup from a sausage skewer.' Every
one had heard the proverb, but no one had ever tasted the soup, much
less prepared it. A capital toast was drunk to the inventor of the
soup, and some one said he ought to be made a relieving officer to the
poor. Was not that witty? Then the old mouse-king rose and promised
that the young lady-mouse who should learn how best to prepare this
much-admired and savory soup should be his queen, and a year and a day
should be allowed for the purpose."
"That was not at all a bad proposal," said the other mouse; "but
how is the soup made?"
"Ah, that is more than I can tell you. All the young lady mice
were asking the same question. They wished very much to be queen,
but they did not want to take the trouble of going out into the
world to learn how to make soup, which was absolutely necessary to
be done first. But it is not every one who would care to leave her
family, or her happy corner by the fire-side at home, even to be
made queen. It is not always easy to find bacon and cheese-rind in
foreign lands every day, and it is not pleasant to have to endure
hunger, and be perhaps, after all, eaten up alive by the cat."
"Most probably some such thoughts as these discouraged the
majority from going out into the world to collect the required
information. Only four mice gave notice that they were ready to set
out on the journey. They were young and lively, but poor. Each of them
wished to visit one of the four divisions of the world, so that it
might be seen which was the most favored by fortune. Every one took
a sausage skewer as a traveller's staff, and to remind them of the
object of their journey. They left home early in May, and none of them
returned till the first of May in the following year, and then only
three of them. Nothing was seen or heard of the fourth, although the
day of decision was close at hand. "Ah, yes, there is always some
trouble mixed up with the greatest pleasure," said the mouse-king; but
he gave orders that all the mice within a circle of many miles
should be invited at once. They were to assemble in the kitchen, and
the three travelled mice were to stand in a row before them, while a
sausage skewer, covered with crape, was to be stuck up instead of
the missing mouse. No one dared to express an opinion until the king
spoke, and desired one of them to go on with her story. And now we
shall hear what she said.
WHAT THE FIRST LITTLE MOUSE
SAW AND HEARD ON HER TRAVELS
"When I first went out into the world," said the little mouse,
"I fancied, as so many of my age do, that I already knew everything,
but it was not so. It takes years to acquire great knowledge. I went
at once to sea in a ship bound for the north. I had been told that the
ship's cook must know how to prepare every dish at sea, and it is easy
enough to do that with plenty of sides of bacon, and large tubs of
salt meat and mouldy flour. There I found plenty of delicate food, but
no opportunity for learning how to make soup from a sausage skewer. We
sailed on for many days and nights; the ship rocked fearfully, and
we did not escape without a wetting. As soon as we arrived at the port
to which the ship was bound, I left it, and went on shore at a place
far towards the north. It is a wonderful thing to leave your own
little corner at home, to hide yourself in a ship where there are sure
to be some nice snug corners for shelter, then suddenly to find
yourself thousands of miles away in a foreign land. I saw large
pathless forests of pine and birch trees, which smelt so strong that I
sneezed and thought of sausage. There were great lakes also which
looked as black as ink at a distance, but were quite clear when I came
close to them. Large swans were floating upon them, and I thought at
first they were only foam, they lay so still; but when I saw them walk
and fly, I knew what they were directly. They belong to the goose
species, one can see that by their walk. No one can attempt to
disguise family descent. I kept with my own kind, and associated
with the forest and field mice, who, however, knew very little,
especially about what I wanted to know, and which had actually made me
travel abroad. The idea that soup could be made from a sausage
skewer was to them such an out-of-the-way, unlikely thought, that it
was repeated from one to another through the whole forest. They
declared that the problem would never be solved, that the thing was an
impossibility. How little I thought that in this place, on the very
first night, I should be initiated into the manner of its preparation.
"It was the height of summer, which the mice told me was the
reason that the forest smelt so strong, and that the herbs were so
fragrant, and the lakes with the white swimming swans so dark, and yet
so clear. On the margin of the wood, near to three or four houses, a
pole, as large as the mainmast of a ship, had been erected, and from
the summit hung wreaths of flowers and fluttering ribbons; it was
the Maypole. Lads and lasses danced round the pole, and tried to outdo
the violins of the musicians with their singing. They were as merry as
ever at sunset and in the moonlight, but I took no part in the
merry-making. What has a little mouse to do with a Maypole dance? I
sat in the soft moss, and held my sausage skewer tight. The moon threw
its beams particularly on one spot where stood a tree covered with
exceedingly fine moss. I may almost venture to say that it was as fine
and soft as the fur of the mouse-king, but it was green, which is a
color very agreeable to the eye. All at once I saw the most charming
little people marching towards me. They did not reach higher than my
knee; they looked like human beings, but were better proportioned, and
they called themselves elves. Their clothes were very delicate and
fine, for they were made of the leaves of flowers, trimmed with the
