understand what was written upon it. They could be quite sure that the
bottle had been thrown overboard from a vessel, and that something
about it was written on this paper: but what was written? that was the
question,- so the paper was put back into the bottle, and then both
were put away in a large cupboard of one of the great houses of the
town. Whenever any strangers arrived, the paper was taken out and
turned over and over, so that the address, which was only written in
pencil, became almost illegible, and at last no one could
distinguish any letters on it at all. For a whole year the bottle
remained standing in the cupboard, and then it was taken up to the
loft, where it soon became covered with dust and cobwebs. Ah! how
often then it thought of those better days- of the times when in the
fresh, green wood, it had poured forth rich wine; or, while rocked
by the swelling waves, it had carried in its bosom a secret, a letter,
a last parting sigh. For full twenty years it stood in the loft, and
it might have stayed there longer but that the house was going to be
rebuilt. The bottle was discovered when the roof was taken off; they
talked about it, but the bottle did not understand what they said- a
language is not to be learnt by living in a loft, even for twenty
years. "If I had been down stairs in the room," thought the bottle, "I
might have learnt it." It was now washed and rinsed, which process was
really quite necessary, and afterwards it looked clean and
transparent, and felt young again in its old age; but the paper
which it had carried so faithfully was destroyed in the washing.
They filled the bottle with seeds, though it scarcely knew what had
been placed in it. Then they corked it down tightly, and carefully
wrapped it up. There not even the light of a torch or lantern could
reach it, much less the brightness of the sun or moon. "And yet,"
thought the bottle, "men go on a journey that they may see as much
as possible, and I can see nothing." However, it did something quite
as important; it travelled to the place of its destination, and was
unpacked.
"What trouble they have taken with that bottle over yonder!"
said one, and very likely it is broken after all." But the bottle
was not broken, and, better still, it understood every word that was
said: this language it had heard at the furnaces and at the wine
merchant's; in the forest and on the ship,- it was the only good old
language it could understand. It had returned home, and the language
was as a welcome greeting. For very joy, it felt ready to jump out
of people's hands, and scarcely noticed that its cork had been
drawn, and its contents emptied out, till it found itself carried to a
cellar, to be left there and forgotten. "There's no place like home,
even if it's a cellar." It never occurred to him to think that he
might lie there for years, he felt so comfortable. For many long years
he remained in the cellar, till at last some people came to carry away
the bottles, and ours amongst the number.
Out in the garden there was a great festival. Brilliant lamps hung
in festoons from tree to tree; and paper lanterns, through which the
light shone till they looked like transparent tulips. It was a
beautiful evening, and the weather mild and clear. The stars twinkled;
and the new moon, in the form of a crescent, was surrounded by the
shadowy disc of the whole moon, and looked like a gray globe with a
golden rim: it was a beautiful sight for those who had good eyes.
The illumination extended even to the most retired of the garden
walks, at least not so retired that any one need lose himself there.
In the borders were placed bottles, each containing a light, and among
them the bottle with which we are acquainted, and whose fate it was,
one day, to be only a bottle neck, and to serve as a water-glass to
a bird's-cage. Everything here appeared lovely to our bottle, for it
was again in the green wood, amid joy and feasting; again it heard
music and song, and the noise and murmur of a crowd, especially in
that part of the garden where the lamps blazed, and the paper lanterns
displayed their brilliant colors. It stood in a distant walk
certainly, but a place pleasant for contemplation; and it carried a
light; and was at once useful and ornamental. In such an hour it is
easy to forget that one has spent twenty years in a loft, and a good
thing it is to be able to do so. Close before the bottle passed a
single pair, like the bridal pair- the mate and the furrier's
daughter- who had so long ago wandered in the wood. It seemed to the
bottle as if he were living that time over again. Not only the
guests but other people were walking in the garden, who were allowed
to witness the splendor and the festivities. Among the latter came
an old maid, who seemed to be quite alone in the world. She was
thinking, like the bottle, of the green wood, and of a young betrothed
pair, who were closely connected with herself; she was thinking of
that hour, the happiest of her life, in which she had taken part, when
she had herself been one of that betrothed pair; such hours are
never to be forgotten, let a maiden be as old as she may. But she
did not recognize the bottle, neither did the bottle notice the old
maid. And so we often pass each other in the world when we meet, as
did these two, even while together in the same town.
The bottle was taken from the garden, and again sent to a wine
merchant, where it was once more filled with wine, and sold to an
aeronaut, who was to make an ascent in his balloon on the following
Sunday. A great crowd assembled to witness the sight; military music
had been engaged, and many other preparations made. The bottle saw
it all from the basket in which he lay close to a live rabbit. The
rabbit was quite excited because he knew that he was to be taken up,
and let down again in a parachute. The bottle, however, knew nothing
of the "up," or the "down;" he saw only that the balloon was
swelling larger and larger till it could swell no more, and began to
rise and be restless. Then the ropes which held it were cut through,
and the aerial ship rose in the air with the aeronaut and the basket
containing the bottle and the rabbit, while the music sounded and
all the people shouted "Hurrah."
"This is a wonderful journey up into the air," thought the bottle;
"it is a new way of sailing, and here, at least, there is no fear of
striking against anything."
Thousands of people gazed at the balloon, and the old maid who was
in the garden saw it also; for she stood at the open window of the
garret, by which hung the cage containing the linnet, who then had
no water-glass, but was obliged to be contented with an old cup. In
the window-sill stood a myrtle in a pot, and this had been pushed a
little on one side, that it might not fall out; for the old maid was
leaning out of the window, that she might see. And she did see
distinctly the aeronaut in the balloon, and how he let down the rabbit
in the parachute, and then drank to the health of all the spectators
in the wine from the bottle. After doing this, he hurled it high
into the air. How little she thought that this was the very same
bottle which her friend had thrown aloft in her honor, on that happy
day of rejoicing, in the green wood, in her youthful days. The
bottle had no time to think, when raised so suddenly; and before it
was aware, it reached the highest point it had ever attained in its
life. Steeples and roofs lay far, far beneath it, and the people
looked as tiny as possible. Then it began to descend much more rapidly
than the rabbit had done, made somersaults in the air, and felt itself
quite young and unfettered, although it was half full of wine. But
this did not last long. What a journey it was! All the people could
see the bottle; for the sun shone upon it. The balloon was already far
away, and very soon the bottle was far away also; for it fell upon a
roof, and broke in pieces. But the pieces had got such an impetus in
them, that they could not stop themselves. They went jumping and
rolling about, till at last they fell into the court-yard, and were
broken into still smaller pieces; only the neck of the bottle
managed to keep whole, and it was broken off as clean as if it had
been cut with a diamond.
"That would make a capital bird's glass," said one of the
cellar-men; but none of them had either a bird or a cage, and it was
not to be expected they would provide one just because they had
found a bottle neck that could be used as a glass. But the old maid
who lived in the garret had a bird, and it really might be useful to
her; so the bottle neck was provided with a cork, and taken up to her;
and, as it often happens in life, the part that had been uppermost was
now turned downwards, and it was filled with fresh water. Then they
hung it in the cage of the little bird, who sang and twittered more
merrily than ever.
"Ah, you have good reason to sing," said the bottle neck, which
was looked upon as something very remarkable, because it had been in a
balloon; nothing further was known of its history. As it hung there in
the bird's-cage, it could hear the noise and murmur of the people in
the street below, as well as the conversation of the old maid in the
room within. An old friend had just come to visit her, and they
talked, not about the bottle neck, but of the myrtle in the window.
"No, you must not spend a dollar for your daughter's bridal
bouquet," said the old maid; "you shall have a beautiful little
bunch for a nosegay, full of blossoms. Do you see how splendidly the
tree has grown? It has been raised from only a little sprig of
myrtle that you gave me on the day after my betrothal, and from
which I was to make my own bridal bouquet when a year had passed:
but that day never came; the eyes were closed which were to have
been my light and joy through life. In the depths of the sea my
beloved sleeps sweetly; the myrtle has become an old tree, and I am
a still older woman. Before the sprig you gave me faded, I took a
spray, and planted it in the earth; and now, as you see, it has become
a large tree, and a bunch of the blossoms shall at last appear at a
wedding festival, in the bouquet of your daughter."
There were tears in the eyes of the old maid, as she spoke of
the beloved of her youth, and of their betrothal in the wood. Many
thoughts came into her mind; but the thought never came, that quite
close to her, in that very window, was a remembrance of those olden
times,- the neck of the bottle which had, as it were shouted for joy
when the cork flew out with a bang on the betrothal day. But the
bottle neck did not recognize the old maid; he had not been
listening to what she had related, perhaps because he was thinking
so much about her.
THE END
.
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE BRAVE TIN SOLDIER
by Hans Christian Andersen
THERE were once five-and-twenty tin soldiers, who were all
brothers, for they had been made out of the same old tin spoon. They
shouldered arms and looked straight before them, and wore a splendid
uniform, red and blue. The first thing in the world they ever heard
were the words, "Tin soldiers!" uttered by a little boy, who clapped
his hands with delight when the lid of the box, in which they lay, was
taken off. They were given him for a birthday present, and he stood at
the table to set them up. The soldiers were all exactly alike,
excepting one, who had only one leg; he had been left to the last, and
then there was not enough of the melted tin to finish him, so they
made him to stand firmly on one leg, and this caused him to be very
remarkable.
The table on which the tin soldiers stood, was covered with
other playthings, but the most attractive to the eye was a pretty
little paper castle. Through the small windows the rooms could be
seen. In front of the castle a number of little trees surrounded a
piece of looking-glass, which was intended to represent a
transparent lake. Swans, made of wax, swam on the lake, and were
reflected in it. All this was very pretty, but the prettiest of all
was a tiny little lady, who stood at the open door of the castle; she,
also, was made of paper, and she wore a dress of clear muslin, with
a narrow blue ribbon over her shoulders just like a scarf. In front of
these was fixed a glittering tinsel rose, as large as her whole
face. The little lady was a dancer, and she stretched out both her
arms, and raised one of her legs so high, that the tin soldier could
not see it at all, and he thought that she, like himself, had only one
leg. "That is the wife for me," he thought; "but she is too grand, and
lives in a castle, while I have only a box to live in, five-and-twenty
of us altogether, that is no place for her. Still I must try and
make her acquaintance." Then he laid himself at full length on the
table behind a snuff-box that stood upon it, so that he could peep
at the little delicate lady, who continued to stand on one leg without
losing her balance. When evening came, the other tin soldiers were all
placed in the box, and the people of the house went to bed. Then the
playthings began to have their own games together, to pay visits, to
have sham fights, and to give balls. The tin soldiers rattled in their
box; they wanted to get out and join the amusements, but they could
not open the lid. The nut-crackers played at leap-frog, and the pencil
jumped about the table. There was such a noise that the canary woke up
and began to talk, and in poetry too. Only the tin soldier and the
dancer remained in their places. She stood on tiptoe, with her legs
stretched out, as firmly as he did on his one leg. He never took his
eyes from her for even a moment. The clock struck twelve, and, with
