It is a great and pleasant thought to know that a shooting star falls upon our graves. On mine certainly none will fall--no sunbeam brings thanks to me, for here there is nothing worthy of thanks. I shall not get the patent lacquer, for my fate on earth is only grease, after all. When on the New Year's night the clock strikes twelve, the people at the table rise up with full glasses in their hands, and drain these glasses, and drink success to the New Year. They begin the year with the glass in their hands; that is a good beginning for drunkards. They begin the New Year by going to bed, and that's a good beginning for drones. Sleep is sure to play a great part in the New Year, and the glass likewise. Do you know what dwells in the glass? I will tell you. There dwell in the glass, first, health, and then pleasure, then the most complete sensual delight; and misfortune and the bitterest woe dwell in the glass also. Now, suppose we count the glasses--of course I count the different degrees in the glasses for different people. You see, the first glass, that's the glass of health, and in that the herb of health is found growing. Put it up on the beam in the ceiling, and at the end of the year you may be sitting in the arbor of health. If you take the second glass--from this a little bird soars upward, twittering in guileless cheerfulness, so that a man may listen to his song, and perhaps join in 'Fair is life! no downcast looks! Take courage, and march onward!' Out of the third glass rises a little winged urchin, who cannot certainly be called an angel child, for there is goblin blood in his veins, and he has the spirit of a goblin--not wishing to hurt or harm you, indeed, but very ready to play off tricks upon you. He'll sit at your ear and whisper merry thoughts to you; he'll creep into your heart and warm you, so that you grow very merry, and become a wit, so far as the wits of the others can judge. In the fourth glass is neither herb, bird, nor urchin. In that glass is the pause drawn by reason, and one may never go beyond that sign. Take the fifth glass, and you will weep at yourself, you will feel such a deep emotion; or it will affect you in a different way. Out of the glass there will spring with a bang Prince Carnival, nine times and extravagantly merry. He'll draw you away with him; you'll forget your dignity, if you have any, and you'll forget more than you should or ought to forget. All is dance, song and sound: the masks will carry you away with them, and the daughters of vanity, clad in silk and satin, will come with loose hair and alluring charms; but tear yourself away if you can! The sixth glass! Yes, in that glass sits a demon, in the form of a little, well dressed, attractive and very fascinating man, who thoroughly understands you, agrees with you in everything, and becomes quite a second self to you. He has a lantern with him, to give you light as he accompanies you home. There is an old legend about a saint who was allowed to choose one of the seven deadly sins, and who accordingly chose drunkenness, which appeared to him the least, but which led him to commit all the other six. The man's blood is mingled with that of the demon. It is the sixth glass, and with that the germ of all evil shoots up within us; and each one grows up with a strength like that of the grains of mustard-seed, and shoots up into a tree, and spreads over the whole world: and most people have no choice but to go into the oven, to be re-cast in a new form. That's the history of the glasses, and it can be told with lacquer or only with grease; but I give it you with both!


It was splendid!


It's moving-day to day, streets and houses are like a dust-bin--a large dust-bin; but I'm content with a cartload. I may get something good out of that, and I really did get something good out of it once. Shortly after Christmas I was going up the street; it was rough weather, wet and dirty--the right kind of weather to catch cold in. The dustman was there with his cart, which was full, and looked like a sample of streets on moving-day. At the back of the cart stood a fir tree, quite green still, and with tinsel on its twigs; it had been used on Christmas eve, and now it was thrown out into the street, and the dustman had stood it up at the back of his cart. It was droll to look at, or you may say it was mournful--all depends on what you think of when you see it; and I thought about it, and thought this and that of many things that were in the cart: or I might have done so, and that comes to the same thing. There was an old lady's glove, too: I wonder what that was thinking of? Shall I tell you? The glove was lying there, pointing with its little finger at the tree. 'I'm sorry for the tree,' it thought; 'and I was also at the feast, where the chandeliers glittered. My life was, so to speak, a ball night--a pressure of the hand, and I burst! My memory keeps dwelling upon that, and I have really nothing else to live for!' This is what the glove thought, or what it might have thought. 'That's a stupid affair with yonder fir tree,' said the potsherds. You see, potsherds think everything is stupid. 'When one is in the dust-cart,' they said, 'one ought not to give one's self airs and wear tinsel. I know that I have been useful in the world--far more useful than such a green stick.' This was a view that might be taken, and I don't think it quite a peculiar one; but for all that, the fir tree looked very well: it was like a little poetry in the dust-heap; and truly there is dust enough in the streets on moving-day. The way is difficult and troublesome then, and I feel obliged to run away out of the confusion; or, if I am on the tower, I stay there and look down, and it is amusing enough. I'm sorry for the tree, and I was also at the feast, where the chandeliers glittered. My life was, so to speak, a ball night--a pressure of the hand, and I burst! My memory keeps dwelling upon that, and I have really nothing else to live for! That's a stupid affair with yonder fir tree. When one is in the dust-cart, one ought not to give one's self airs and wear tinsel. I know that I have been useful in the world--far more useful than such a green stick. There are the good people below, playing at 'changing houses.' They toil and tug away with their goods and chattels, and the household goblin sits in an old tub and moves with them. All the little griefs of the lodging and the family, and the real cares and sorrows, move with them out of the old dwelling into the new; and what gain is there for them or for us in the whole affair? Yes, there was written long ago the good old maxim: 'Think on the great moving-day of death!' That is a serious thought. I hope it is not disagreeable to you that I should have touched upon it? Death is the most certain messenger, after all, in spite of his various occupations. Yes, Death is the omnibus conductor, and he is the passport writer, and he countersigns our service-book, and he is director of the savings bank of life. Do you understand me? All the deeds of our life, the great and the little alike, we put into this savings bank; and when Death calls with his omnibus, and we have to step in, and drive with him into the land of eternity, then on the frontier he gives us our service-book as a pass. As a provision for the journey, he takes this or that good deed we have done, and lets it accompany us; and this may be very pleasant or very terrific. Nobody has ever escaped the omnibus journey. There is certainly a talk about one who was not allowed to go--they call him the Wandering Jew: he has to ride behind the omnibus. If he had been allowed to get in, he would have escaped the clutches of the poets. Just cast your mind's eye into that great omnibus. The society is mixed, for king and beggar, genius and idiot, sit side by side. They must go without their property and money; they have only the service-book and the gift out of the savings bank with them. But which of our deeds is selected and given to us? Perhaps quite a little one, one that we have forgotten, but which has been recorded--small as a pea, but the pea can send out a blooming shoot. The poor bumpkin who sat on a low stool in the corner, and was jeered at and flouted, will perhaps have his worn-out stool given him as a provision; and the stool may become a litter in the land of eternity, and rise up then as a throne, gleaming like gold and blooming as an arbor. He who always lounged about, and drank the spiced draught of pleasure, that he might forget the wild things he had done here, will have his barrel given to him on the journey, and will have to drink from it as they go on; and the drink is bright and clear, so that the thoughts remain pure, and all good and noble feelings are awakened, and he sees and feels what in life he could not or would not see; and then he has within him the punishment, the gnawing worm, which will not die through time incalculable. If on the glasses there stood written 'oblivion,' on the barrel 'remembrance' is inscribed. When I read a good book, an historical work, I always think at last of the poetry of what I am reading, and of the omnibus of death, and wonder, which of the hero's deeds Death took out of the savings bank for him, and what provisions he got on the journey into eternity. There was once a French king--I have forgotten his name, for the names of good people are sometimes forgotten, even by me, but it will come back some day;--there was a king who, during a famine, became the benefactor of his people; and the people raised up to his memory a monument of snow, with the inscription, 'Quicker than this melts didst thou bring help!' I fancy that Death, looking back upon the monument, gave him a single snow-flake as provision, a snow-flake that never melts, and this flake floated over his royal head, like a white butterfly, into the land of eternity. Thus, too, there was Louis XI. I have remembered his name, for one remembers what is bad--a trait of him often comes into my thoughts, and I wish one could say the story is not true. He had his lord high constable executed, and he could execute him, right or wrong; but he had the innocent children of the constable, one seven and the other eight years old, placed under the scaffold so that the warm blood of their father spurted over them, and then he had them sent to the Bastille, and shut up in iron cages, where not even a coverlet was given them to protect them from the cold. And King Louis sent the executioner to them every week, and had a tooth pulled out of the head of each, that they might not be too comfortable; and the elder of the boys said, 'My mother would die of grief if she knew that my younger brother had to suffer so cruelly; therefore pull out two of my teeth, and spare him.' The tears came into the hangman's eyes, but the king's will was stronger than the tears; and every week two little teeth were brought to him on a silver plate; he had demanded them, and he had them. I fancy that Death took these two teeth out of the savings bank of life, and gave them to Louis XI, to carry with him on the great journey into the land of immortality; they fly before him like two flames of fire; they shine and burn, and they bite him, the innocent children's teeth. My mother would die of grief if she knew that my younger brother had to suffer so cruelly; therefore pull out two of my teeth, and spare him.


Yes, that's a serious journey, the omnibus ride on the great moving-day! And when is it to be undertaken? That's just the serious part of it. Any day, any hour, any minute, the omnibus may draw up. Which of our deeds will Death take out of the savings bank, and give to us as provision? Let us think of the moving-day that is not marked in the calendar.


The theatre is my school, the source of my knowledge. From thence I have resuscitated Biblical history. Now, 'Moses' and 'Joseph in Egypt'--there are operas for you! I get my universal history from the theatre, my geography, and my knowledge of men. Out of the French pieces I get to know life in Paris--slippery, but exceedingly interesting. How I have cried over 'La Famille Roquebourg'--that the man must drink himself to death, so that she may marry the young fellow! Yes, how many tears I have wept in the fifty years I have subscribed to the theatre!


Now we shall have spring, the stork is here,


They've advertised the first strawberries in the papers.


Have you heard they're selling boxes for the theatre? now the performances will begin. At home, my windows must be my opera-box. One cannot sit and look into one's self till one's tired; one must see people. But now I live just as if I'd go into the country. If I want to see human beings, I must go into my kitchen, and sit down on the sink, for there only I have opposite neighbors. No; when I lived in my dear little lane, I could look straight down into the ironmonger's shop, and had only three hundred paces to the theatre; and now I've three thousand paces to go, military measurement.


Mad nonsense! There's so much to put up, and the first scene begins with 'Water to the front of the wings.'


But I was there seven-and-thirty times, and I shall always remember Mr. Sivertsen for that.


Those were his own words, and they were just like him,


The 'Judgment of Solomon' was over, and all the people had gone away, up stairs and down stairs; but now the real play began, the after-piece, which was the best of all. Then life came into the affair. It was not the 'Judgment of Solomon' that was performed; no, a real court of judgment was held upon the stage. It looked dark enough up there, but then the magic business began--a great performance, 'The Judgment in the Theatre.' The box-keepers were at their posts, and every spectator had to show his ghostly pass-book, that it might be decided if he was to be admitted with hands loose or bound, and with or without a muzzle. Grand people who came too late, when the performance had begun, and young people, who could not always watch the time, were tied up outside, and had list slippers put on their feet, with which they were allowed to go in before the beginning of the next act, and they had muzzles too. And then the 'Judgment on the Stage' began.


All malice, and not a bit of truth in it,


on the second tier, left-hand side, for from there the scenery looks best. The scenes are always arranged that they look best from the King's side.


That was all very interesting to hear. What will the play be to-morrow?


for on that evening two pieces were always given,


Come in, sit down by the fire and dry yourself.


There is a great draught here,


It will be worse when my sons come home, you are now in the cavern of the Winds, and my sons are the four Winds of heaven: can you understand that?


Where are your sons?


It is difficult to answer stupid questions. My sons have plenty of business on hand; they are playing at shuttlecock with the clouds up yonder in the king's hall,


Oh, indeed, but you speak more roughly and harshly and are not so gentle as the women I am used to.


Yes, that is because they have nothing else to do; but I am obliged to be harsh, to keep my boys in order, and I can do it, although they are so head-strong. Do you see those four sacks hanging on the wall? Well, they are just as much afraid of those sacks, as you used to be of the rat behind the looking-glass. I can bend the boys together, and put them in the sacks without any resistance on their parts, I can tell you. There they stay, and dare not attempt to come out until I allow them to do so. And here comes one of them.


Don't go too near the fire, or your hands and face will be frost-bitten.


Frost-bitten! why frost is my greatest delight. What sort of a little snip are you, and how did you find your way to the cavern of the Winds?


He is my guest, and if you are not satisfied with that explanation you can go into the sack. Do you understand me?


I come from the polar seas. I have been on the Bear's Island with the Russian walrus-hunters. I sat and slept at the helm of their ship, as they sailed away from North Cape. Sometimes when I woke, the storm-birds would fly about my legs. They are curious birds; they give one flap with their wings, and then on their outstretched pinions soar far away.


Don't make such a long story of it, what sort of a place is Bear's Island?


A very beautiful place, with a floor for dancing as smooth and flat as a plate. Half-melted snow, partly covered with moss, sharp stones, and skeletons of walruses and polar-bears, lie all about, their gigantic limbs in a state of green decay. It would seem as if the sun never shone there. I blew gently, to clear away the mist, and then I saw a little hut, which had been built from the wood of a wreck, and was covered with the skins of the walrus, the fleshy side outwards; it looked green and red, and on the roof sat a growling bear. Then I went to the sea shore, to look after birds' nests, and saw the unfledged nestlings opening their mouths and screaming for food. I blew into the thousand little throats, and quickly stopped their screaming. Farther on were the walruses with pig's heads, and teeth a yard long, rolling about like great worms.


You relate your adventures very well, my son, it makes my mouth water to hear you.


After that, the hunting commenced. The harpoon was flung into the breast of the walrus, so that a smoking stream of blood spurted forth like a fountain, and besprinkled the ice. Then I thought of my own game; I began to blow, and set my own ships, the great icebergs sailing, so that they might crush the boats. Oh, how the sailors howled and cried out! but I howled louder than they. They were obliged to unload their cargo, and throw their chests and the dead walruses on the ice. Then I sprinkled snow over them, and left them in their crushed boats to drift southward, and to taste salt water. They will never return to Bear's Island.


So you have done mischief,


I shall leave others to tell the good I have done. But here comes my brother from the West; I like him best of all, for he has the smell of the sea about him, and brings in a cold, fresh air as he enters.


Is that the little Zephyr?


Yes, it is the little Zephyr, but he is not little now. In years gone by he was a beautiful boy; now that is all past.


Whence do you come?


I come from the wilds of the forests, where the thorny brambles form thick hedges between the trees; where the water-snake lies in the wet grass, and mankind seem to be unknown.


What were you doing there?


I looked into the deep river, and saw it rushing down from the rocks. The water drops mounted to the clouds and glittered in the rainbow. I saw the wild buffalo swimming in the river, but the strong tide carried him away amidst a flock of wild ducks, which flew into the air as the waters dashed onwards, leaving the buffalo to be hurled over the waterfall. This pleased me; so I raised a storm, which rooted up old trees, and sent them floating down the river.


And what else have you done?


I have rushed wildly across the savannahs; I have stroked the wild horses, and shaken the cocoa-nuts from the trees. Yes, I have many stories to relate; but I need not tell everything I know. You know it all very well, don't you, old lady?


How cold it is here! It is easy to feel that the North Wind has arrived here before me.


Why it is hot enough here to roast a bear,


You are a bear yourself,


Do you want to be put in the sack, both of you? Sit down, now, on that stone, yonder, and tell me where you have been.


In Africa, mother. I went out with the Hottentots, who were lion-hunting in the Kaffir land, where the plains are covered with grass the color of a green olive; and here I ran races with the ostrich, but I soon outstripped him in swiftness. At last I came to the desert, in which lie the golden sands, looking like the bottom of the sea. Here I met a caravan, and the travellers had just killed their last camel, to obtain water; there was very little for them, and they continued their painful journey beneath the burning sun, and over the hot sands, which stretched before them a vast, boundless desert. Then I rolled myself in the loose sand, and whirled it in burning columns over their heads. The dromedarys stood still in terror, while the merchants drew their caftans over their heads, and threw themselves on the ground before me, as they do before Allah, their god. Then I buried them beneath a pyramid of sand, which covers them all. When I blow that away on my next visit, the sun will bleach their bones, and travellers will see that others have been there before them; otherwise, in such a wild desert, they might not believe it possible.


So you have done nothing but evil. Into the sack with you;


These boys of yours are very lively,


Yes, but I know how to correct them, when necessary; and here comes the fourth. Oh, you come from that quarter, do you? I thought you had been to the garden of paradise.


I am going there to-morrow. I have not been there for a hundred years. I have just come from China, where I danced round the porcelain tower till all the bells jingled again. In the streets an official flogging was taking place, and bamboo canes were being broken on the shoulders of men of every high position, from the first to the ninth grade. They cried, 'Many thanks, my fatherly benefactor;' but I am sure the words did not come from their hearts, so I rang the bells till they sounded, 'ding, ding-dong.'


You are a wild boy, it is well for you that you are going to-morrow to the garden of paradise; you always get improved in your education there. Drink deeply from the fountain of wisdom while you are there, and bring home a bottleful for me.


That I will, but why have you put my brother South in a bag? Let him out; for I want him to tell me about the phoenix-bird. The princess always wants to hear of this bird when I pay her my visit every hundred years. If you will open the sack, sweetest mother, I will give you two pocketfuls of tea, green and fresh as when I gathered it from the spot where it grew.


Well, for the sake of the tea, and because you are my own boy. I will open the bag.


There is a palm-leaf for the princess. The old phoenix, the only one in the world, gave it to me himself. He has scratched on it with his beak the whole of his history during the hundred years he has lived. She can there read how the old phoenix set fire to his own nest, and sat upon it while it was burning, like a Hindoo widow. The dry twigs around the nest crackled and smoked till the flames burst forth and consumed the phoenix to ashes. Amidst the fire lay an egg, red hot, which presently burst with a loud report, and out flew a young bird. He is the only phoenix in the world, and the king over all the other birds. He has bitten a hole in the leaf which I give you, and that is his greeting to the princess.


Now let us have something to eat,


Pray tell me, who is that princess of whom you have been talking! and where lies the garden of paradise?


Ho! ho! would you like to go there? Well, you can fly off with me to-morrow; but I must tell you one thing--no human being has been there since the time of Adam and Eve. I suppose you have read of them in your Bible.


Of course I have,


Well, when they were driven out of the garden of paradise, it sunk into the earth; but it retained its warm sunshine, its balmy air, and all its splendor. The fairy queen lives there, in the island of happiness, where death never comes, and all is beautiful. I can manage to take you there to-morrow, if you will sit on my back. But now don't talk any more, for I want to go to sleep; Good morning. You might have slept on a while; for there is very little to see in the flat country over which we are passing unless you like to count the churches; they look like spots of chalk on a green board.


It was very rude of me not to say good-bye to your mother and your brothers,


They will excuse you, as you were asleep,


There are the Himalayas, the highest mountains in Asia. We shall soon reach the garden of paradise now.


Are we now in the garden of paradise?


No, indeed, but we shall be there very soon. Do you see that wall of rocks, and the cavern beneath it, over which the grape vines hang like a green curtain? Through that cavern we must pass. Wrap your cloak round you; for while the sun scorches you here, a few steps farther it will be icy cold. The bird flying past the entrance to the cavern feels as if one wing were in the region of summer, and the other in the depths of winter.


So this then is the way to the garden of paradise?


We seem to be passing through the valley of death to the garden of paradise,


I thought they were banished from paradise,


Let us now take the boat, a sail on the cool waters will refresh us. But we shall not move from the spot, although the boat may rock on the swelling water; the countries of the world will glide before us, but we shall remain still.


Can I stay here forever?


That depends upon yourself. If you do not, like Adam, long for what is forbidden, you can remain here always.


I should not touch the fruit on the tree of knowledge, there is abundance of fruit equally beautiful.


Examine your own heart, and if you do not feel sure of its strength, return with the East Wind who brought you. He is about to fly back, and will not return here for a hundred years. The time will not seem to you more than a hundred hours, yet even that is a long time for temptation and resistance. Every evening, when I leave you, I shall be obliged to say, 'Come with me,' and to beckon to you with my hand. But you must not listen, nor move from your place to follow me; for with every step you will find your power to resist weaker. If once you attempted to follow me, you would soon find yourself in the hall, where grows the tree of knowledge, for I sleep beneath its perfumed branches. If you stooped over me, I should be forced to smile. If you then kissed my lips, the garden of paradise would sink into the earth, and to you it would be lost. A keen wind from the desert would howl around you; cold rain fall on your head, and sorrow and woe be your future lot.


I will remain,


Be firm; then shall we meet again when a hundred years have passed. Farewell, farewell.


Farewell, farewell,


Now we will commence dancing, and when it is nearly over at sunset, while I am dancing with you, I shall make a sign, and ask you to follow me: but do not obey. I shall be obliged to repeat the same thing for a hundred years; and each time, when the trial is past, if you resist, you will gain strength, till resistance becomes easy, and at last the temptation will be quite overcome. This evening, as it will be the first time, I have warned you.


My child, my beloved child.


Come with me, come with me.


Man should know everything; man is the lord of the earth.


Come, come,


I must follow, it is not a sin, it cannot be, to follow beauty and joy. I only want to see her sleep, and nothing will happen unless I kiss her, and that I will not do, for I have strength to resist, and a determined will. I have not sinned yet, and I will not; Do you weep for me? Oh weep not, thou loveliest of women. Now do I begin to understand the happiness of paradise; I feel it to my inmost soul, in every thought. A new life is born within me. One moment of such happiness is worth an eternity of darkness and woe.


Alas! what have I done? I have sinned like Adam, and the garden of paradise has sunk into the earth.


The very first evening! Well, I expected it! If you were my son, you should go into the sack.


And there he will have to go at last. He shall be laid in his coffin, but not yet. I will allow him to wander about the world for a while, to atone for his sin, and to give him time to become better. But I shall return when he least expects me. I shall lay him in a black coffin, place it on my head, and fly away with it beyond the stars. There also blooms a garden of paradise, and if he is good and pious he will be admitted; but if his thoughts are bad, and his heart is full of sin, he will sink with his coffin deeper than the garden of paradise has sunk. Once in every thousand years I shall go and fetch him, when he will either be condemned to sink still deeper, or be raised to a happier life in the world beyond the stars.


Are we to sit here forever? shall we not become hard by sitting so long? It seems to me there must be something outside, and I feel sure of it.


All the world is turning yellow, I suppose,


Now we shall soon be opened,


I should like to know which of us will travel furthest, we shall soon see now.


What is to happen will happen,


Now I am flying out into the wide world, catch me if you can;


I, intend to fly straight to the sun, that is a shell that lets itself be seen, and it will suit me exactly;


We will go to sleep wherever we find ourselves, we shall still be rolling onwards; We shall go farther than the others,


What is to happen will happen. What is to happen will happen,


She is going to her little sister. I had but the two children, and it was not an easy thing to support both of them; but the good God helped me in my work, and took one of them to Himself and provided for her. Now I would gladly keep the other that was left to me, but I suppose they are not to be separated, and my sick girl will very soon go to her sister above.


Mother, what can that little green thing be that peeps in at the window? It is moving in the wind.


Oh! there is actually a little pea which has taken root and is putting out its green leaves. How could it have got into this crack? Well now, here is a little garden for you to amuse yourself with.


Mother, I believe I shall get well, the sun has shone in here so brightly and warmly to-day, and the little pea is thriving so well: I shall get on better, too, and go out into the warm sunshine again.


God grant it!


Now really here is a flower coming,


Our heavenly Father Himself has planted that pea, and made it grow and flourish, to bring joy to you and hope to me, my blessed child,


Catch me if you can,


I am getting beautifully fat. I expect I shall burst at last; no pea could do more that that, I think; I am the most remarkable of all the five which were in the shell.


I, shall stand up for my pea.


It is wonderful what can be brought out of an inkstand.


What will come next?


It is indeed wonderful.


Yes, certainly, that's what I always say. It is wonderful and extraordinary what a number of things come out of me. It's quite incredible, and I really don't know what is coming next when that man dips his pen into me. One drop out of me is enough for half a page of paper, and what cannot half a page contain? From me, all the works of a poet are produced; all those imaginary characters whom people fancy they have known or met. All the deep feeling, the humor, and the vivid pictures of nature. I myself don't understand how it is, for I am not acquainted with nature, but it is certainly in me. From me have gone forth to the world those wonderful descriptions of troops of charming maidens, and of brave knights on prancing steeds; of the halt and the blind, and I know not what more, for I assure you I never think of these things.


There you are right, for you don't think at all; if you did, you would see that you can only provide the means. You give the fluid that I may place upon the paper what dwells in me, and what I wish to bring to light. It is the pen that writes: no man doubts that; and, indeed, most people understand as much about poetry as an old inkstand.


You have had very little experience. You have hardly been in service a week, and are already half worn out. Do you imagine you are a poet? You are only a servant, and before you came I had many like you, some of the goose family, and others of English manufacture. I know a quill pen as well as I know a steel one. I have had both sorts in my service, and I shall have many more when he comes--the man who performs the mechanical part--and writes down what he obtains from me. I should like to know what will be the next thing he gets out of me.


Inkpot!


How foolish it would be for the violin and the bow to boast of their performance, and yet we men often commit that folly. The poet, the artist, the man of science in his laboratory, the general,--we all do it; and yet we are only the instruments which the Almighty uses; to Him alone the honor is due. We have nothing of ourselves of which we should be proud.


That is what you have got, madam. Did you hear him read aloud what I had written down?


Yes, what I gave you to write. That was a cut at you because of your conceit. To think that you could not understand that you were being quizzed. I gave you a cut from within me. Surely I must know my own satire.


Ink-pitcher!


Writing-stick!


To Him be all the honor.


What happens to man, when touched by the angel of death? What can death be? The body decays, and the soul. Yes; what is the soul, and whither does it go?


To eternal life,


But what is this change? Where and how shall we exist?


Above; in heaven, it is there we hope to go.


Above!


I shall ride forth into the wide world. I must try what life is like there, as I mix with men. I will practise only the good and true; with these I will protect the beautiful. Much shall be changed for the better while I am there.


I see I must make a regular attack on these things,


All over,


I think the Seer has been badly served, but the Hearer may be more successful.


Heaven help us!


I will try now. I have a keen nose. I can smell. I can smell, and many places are fragrant or beautiful according to the taste of the frequenters. One man feels at home in the atmosphere of the tavern, among the flaring tallow candles, and when the smell of spirits mingles with the fumes of bad tobacco. Another prefers sitting amidst the overpowering scent of jasmine, or perfuming himself with scented olive oil. This man seeks the fresh sea breeze, while that one climbs the lofty mountain-top, to look down upon the busy life in miniature beneath him.


I will give my seal to the flower. I have trailed my slime upon it, I can do no more.


Thus it always fares with the beautiful in this world,


That is a capital tune.


They should have offered me incense, for it was I who gave him the idea of the most famous of his songs--the drum song of 'The Way of the World;' and it was I who spat at the rose; I can bring a witness to that fact.


Now I must go out into the world, and disappear like the rest,


There are no delicacies here. Perhaps fortune may be more favorable to me than it was to my brothers. I shall start on my travels, but what conveyance shall I choose? Are air balloons invented yet? Good, then I shall choose an air balloon; my father knows how they are to be made and guided. Nobody has invented one yet, and the people will believe that it is an aerial phantom. When I have done with the balloon I shall burn it, and for this purpose, you must give me a few pieces of another invention, which will come next; I mean a few chemical matches.


There are altars erected to my honor,


Vanity, all vanity! I must go down there by-and-by, and touch and taste; but I shall sit here a little while longer, for the wind blows pleasantly at my back. I shall remain here as long as the wind blows, and enjoy a little rest. It is comfortable to sleep late in the morning when one had a great deal to do, so I shall stop here as long as the wind blows, for it pleases me.


Nothing goes well with them, they will never bring the glittering jewel home, it is not made for me; they are all dead and gone.


Life is a shadow that flits away In a night of darkness and woe. Life has the rose's sweet perfume With sunshine, light, and joy. Each mortal thinks of himself alone, Is a truth, alas, too clearly known; Love, like a mighty flowing stream, Fills every heart with its radiant gleam. In the pretty turmoil here below, All is a vain and paltry show. Great and good are the actions done By many whose worth is never known. Why not join in the jesting cry That contemns all gifts from the throne on high?


To trust in thyself and God is best, In His holy will forever to rest.


To trust in thyself and God is best, In his Holy will forever to rest. Even in my father's house. Yes, the place in which this jewel is to be found is earth, and I shall bring more than the promise of it with me. I feel it glow and swell more and more in my closed hand. Every grain of truth which the keen wind carried up and whirled towards me I caught and treasured. I allowed it to be penetrated with the fragrance of the beautiful, of which there is so much in the world, even for the blind. I took the beatings of a heart engaged in a good action, and added them to my treasure. All that I can bring is but dust; still, it is a part of the jewel we seek, and there is plenty, my hand is quite full of it.


It will be blown to dust by the wind,


No, it is indestructible. I feel its beam warming my very soul.


Immortality!


He annoys me with his loud crowing, but, still, he's a handsome bird, there's no denying that, although he's not a drake. He ought to moderate his voice, like those little birds who are singing in the lime-trees over there in our neighbor's garden, but that is an art only acquired in polite society. How sweetly they sing there; it is quite a pleasure to listen to them! I call it Portuguese singing. If I had only such a little singing-bird, I'd be kind and good as a mother to him, for it's in my nature, in my Portuguese blood. That's just like the cat, she's a villain. I remember her ways when I had children of my own. How can such a creature be allowed to live, and wander about upon the roofs. I don't think they allow such things in Portugal.


Poor little creature! We can't sing, certainly; but we have a sounding-board, or something of the kind, within us; we can feel that, though we don't talk about it.


But I can talk, and I'll do something for the little fellow; it's my duty; That is a good deed. I hope the others will take example by it.


Tweet, tweet! You are very kind-hearted, madam;


I have never thought about my heart, but I know that I love all my fellow-creatures, except the cat, and nobody can expect me to love her, for she ate up two of my ducklings. But pray make yourself at home; it is easy to make one's self comfortable. I am myself from a foreign country, as you may see by my feathery dress. My drake is a native of these parts; he's not of my race; but I am not proud on that account. If any one here can understand you, I may say positively I am that person.


She's quite full of 'Portulak,'


Quack! that was witty!


The Portuguese had certainly a great flow of language,


For our part we don't care to fill our beaks with such long words, but we sympathize with you quite as much. If we don't do anything else, we can walk about with you everywhere, and we think that is the best thing we can do.


You have a lovely voice,


it must be great satisfaction to you to be able to give so much pleasure as you do. I am certainly no judge of your singing so I keep my beak shut, which is better than talking nonsense, as others do.


Don't plague him so,


he requires rest and nursing. My little singing-bird do you wish me to prepare another bath for you?


Oh, no! no! pray let me dry,


The water-cure is the only remedy for me, when I am not well,


Amusement, too, is very beneficial. The fowls from the neighborhood will soon be here to pay you a visit. There are two Cochin Chinese amongst them; they wear feathers on their legs, and are well educated. They have been brought from a great distance, and consequently I treat them with greater respect than I do the others.


You are a real songster,


you do as much with your little voice as it is possible to do; but there requires more noise and shrillness in any one who wishes it to be known who he is.


He's charming,


We are of the same race as yourself,


The ducks, even the Portuguese, are all aquatic birds, as you must have noticed. You do not know us yet,--very few know us, or give themselves the trouble to make our acquaintance, not even any of the fowls, though we are born to occupy a higher grade in society than most of them. But that does not disturb us, we quietly go on in our own way among the rest, whose ideas are certainly not ours; for we look at the bright side of things, and only speak what is good, although that is sometimes very difficult to find where none exists. Except ourselves and the cock there is not one in the yard who can be called talented or polite. It cannot even be said of the ducks, and we warn you, little bird, not to trust that one yonder, with the short tail feathers, for she is cunning; that curiously marked one, with the crooked stripes on her wings, is a mischief-maker, and never lets any one have the last word, though she is always in the wrong. That fat duck yonder speaks evil of every one, and that is against our principles. If we have nothing good to tell, we close our beaks. The Portuguese is the only one who has had any education, and with whom we can associate, but she is passionate, and talks too much about 'Portugal.'


I wonder what those two Chinese are whispering about,


they are always doing it, and it annoys me. We never speak to them.


Well, I don't understand the difference,


it appears to me all the same. He's only a plaything, and if people will have playthings, why let them, I say.


Don't take any notice of what he says,


he's very well in matters of business, and with him business is placed before everything. But now I shall lie down and have a little rest. It is a duty we owe to ourselves that we may be nice and fat when we come to be embalmed with sage and onions and apples.


Tweet,


you trod very hard upon me, madam.


Well, then, why do you lie in my way?


you must not be so touchy. I have nerves of my own, but I do not cry 'tweet.'


Don't be angry,


the 'tweet' slipped out of my beak unawares.


Chirp and twitter, The dew-drops glitter, In the hours of sunny spring, I'll sing my best, Till I go to rest, With my head behind my wing.


Now I want rest after my dinner,


you must conform to the rules of the house while you are here. I want to sleep now.


Give that to a chicken,


and don't be always standing in my way.


Why are you angry with me?


what have I done?


Done!


your mode of expressing yourself is not very polite. I must call your attention to that fact.


It was sunshine here yesterday,


but to-day it is cloudy and the air is close.


You know very little about the weather, I fancy,


the day is not over yet. Don't stand there, looking so stupid.


But you are looking at me just as the wicked eyes looked when I fell into the yard yesterday.


Impertinent creature!


would you compare me with the cat--that beast of prey? There's not a drop of malicious blood in me. I've taken your part, and now I'll teach you better manners.


Now whatever is the meaning of this?


could he not bear even such a little peck as I gave him? Then certainly he was not made for this world. I've been like a mother to him, I know that, for I've a good heart.


You'll kill me with your crowing,


it's all your fault. He's lost his life, and I'm very near losing mine.


There's not much of him lying there,


Speak of him with respect,


for he had manners and education, and he could sing. He was affectionate and gentle, and that is as rare a quality in animals as in those who call themselves human beings.


We shall never have another singing-bird again amongst us; he was almost a Chinese,


Hearts!


indeed you have, almost as tender as the ducks in Portugal.


Let us think of getting something to satisfy our hunger,


that's the most important business. If one of our toys is broken, why we have plenty more.


Charming!


Don't tell papa and mamma,


they would be angry.


What's the matter, little missie?


It's all on fire!


It's burning with a bright flame!


I only took just one lucifer-match,


and it was burning directly, and the curtain was burning too. I spat at it, to put it out; I spat at it as much as ever I could, but I could not put it out; so I ran away and hid myself, for papa and mamma would be angry.


I spat!


what an expression! Did you ever hear your papa and mamma talk about spitting? You must have got that from down stairs!


He has genius.


Only my subaltern could have taken your Highness prisoner; I could never have done it!


You are incomparable.


My little Roseleaf! thou art born to wed a prince.


The day before yesterday our boy divided his bread and butter with her!


George will be confirmed at Easter,


It would be the best thing, now, to make an apprentice of him. It must be to some good calling--and then he would be out of the house.


He would have to sleep out of the house. It is not easy to find a master who has room for him at night, and we shall have to provide him with clothes too. The little bit of eating that he wants can be managed for him, for he's quite happy with a few boiled potatoes; and he gets taught for nothing. Let the boy go his own way. You will say that he will be our joy some day, and the Professor says so too.


If he had had a better position, and been able to keep a workshop and journeymen, he might have been a court tailor.


Charming!


That is really a great attention from a family of such position,


So little George is a confirmed Christian now. Be a good man, and honor those in authority over you. Some day, when you are an old man, you can say that the General gave you this precept.


They will not keep her with them. The good God knows whom He will summon to Himself.


Listen to me, my friend. I want to speak to you. The Lord has been good to you in giving you abilities, and He has also been good in placing you among kind people. The old Count at the corner yonder has been speaking to me about you. I have also seen your sketches; but we will not say any more about those, for there is a good deal to correct in them. But from this time forward you may come twice a-week to my drawing-class, and then you will soon learn how to do them better. I think there's more of the architect than of the painter in you. You will have time to think that over; but go across to the old Count this very day, and thank God for having sent you such a friend.


I think, the grander people are, the fewer airs do they give themselves. How kind and straightforward the old count is! and he talks exactly like you and me. Now, the General and his lady can't do that. And George was fairly wild with delight yesterday at the good reception he met with at the Count's, and so am I to-day, after speaking to the great man. Wasn't it a good thing that we didn't bind George apprentice to a handicraftsman? for he has abilities of his own.


But they must be helped on by others,


That help he has got now, for the Count spoke out quite clearly and distinctly.


But I fancy it began with the General, and we must thank them too.


Let us do so with all my heart, though I fancy we have not much to thank them for. I will thank the good God; and I will thank Him, too, for letting little Emily get well.


It would have been better, after all, if he had been apprenticed to a handicraftsman, for then we could have kept him with us. What is he to do in Rome? I shall never get a sight of him again, not even if he comes back; but that he won't do, the dear boy.


It is fortune and fame for him,


Yes, thank you, my friend, you are saying what you do not mean. You are just as sorrowful as I am.


You are incomparable.


Old time and new time, here they run well into one another. In two years the building itself will put on a proper appearance, there will be a complete metamorphosis in beauty and improvement. I shall show you the drawings, and I shall show you the architect, for he is to dine here to-day.


'Tis like Paradise here, and yonder you have a knight's castle!


That's my poultry-house. The pigeons live in the tower, the turkeys in the first floor, but old Elsie rules in the ground floor. She has apartments on all sides of her. The sitting hens have their own room, and the hens with chickens have theirs; and the ducks have their own particular door leading to the water.


Charming!


I have a brownie that sits in my ear, and knows every one of you, inside and out.


Quack, quack!


He is not altogether a stranger, our young friend George.


Our little Master George! Old friends! Charming!


You have become quite an Italian, and I presume you speak the language like a native?


My wife sings the language, but she does not speak it,


Many thanks for the kind consideration you showed my old mother. I know that you went down to her on the night when my father died, and you stayed with her till his eyes were closed. My heartiest thanks!


Your mother was a dear soul! How fond she was of her son! And she let me read all your letters, so that I almost believe I know you. How kind you were to me when I was little girl! You used to give me pictures.


Which you tore in two,


No, I have still your drawing of the castle.


I must build the castle in reality now,


He might be a tutor,


Intellect!


How much the good God has given you that he has not given to us poor mortals. Are you sure you are very grateful for it?


His mother was a very good woman. It is only right I should do her that justice now she is in her grave. He whom the King invites can be invited by the General also. I suppose you are giving her the whole history of St. Peter's,


Man! I don't understand you at all. What is it you say? What is it you want? I don't know you. Sir! Man! What possesses you to break into my house? And am I to stand here and listen to you?


My father has answered?


He has escaped me, but a better time will come.


Lunacy! porter! madness!


You poor child, to insult you so! to insult us so! You look beautiful in tears. You look as I looked on my wedding-day. Weep on, my sweet Emily.


Yes, that I must, if you and my father do not say 'yes.'


Child! you are ill! You are talking wildly, and I shall have a most terrible headache! Oh, what a misfortune is coming upon our house! Don't make your mother die, Emily, or you will have no mother.


It's a pity that his parents are dead and cannot read it,


Now he'll get a salary,


Yes, that's not much for a poor child,


Eighteen dollars a year. Why, it's a good deal of money.


No, I mean the honor of it. Do you think he cares for the money? Those few dollars he can earn a hundred times over, and most likely he'll get a rich wife into the bargain. If we had children of our own, husband, our child should be an architect and a professor too.


The Professor was a true man, and would be a privy councillor before he died, it was not at all unlikely; and he might build a real castle for the young lady before that time came: why not?


That was a strange jest,


He is building up an immortality for himself, and he will certainly build his way into one of our first families.


One of our first families!


what is meant by one of our first families? What is meant by one of our first families? I know for whom it was intended, but I shall not say it. I don't think it. Heaven disposes, but I shall be astonished.


I am astonished also! I haven't an idea in my head!


Blessing George!


Whom in the world do I not know? I know everybody; That saddle comes from my wife! She is teasing me--charming!


Who is that?


His Royal Highness. I am quite sure of it. I knew him directly by the pressure of his hand.


One whom you do not know, General.


But I do know you. It was you who sent me the saddle.


Who is that black domino with whom you were dancing, Emily?


I did not ask his name, because you knew it. It is the Professor. Your protege is here, Count! A black domino with acacia blossoms in his cap.


Very likely, my dear lady. But one of the Princes wears just the same costume.


I knew the pressure of the hand. The saddle came from the Prince. I am so certain of it that I could invite that domino to dinner. I am so certain of it that I could invite that domino to dinner.


Do so. If it be the Prince he will certainly come,


And if it is the other he will not come, and approached the black domino, who was just speaking with the King. The General gave a very respectful invitation "that they might make each other's acquaintance," and he smiled in his certainty concerning the person he was inviting. He spoke loud and distinctly.


Do you repeat your invitation, General?


I never retract my words! You are invited, Professor!


I have my foot under his table. That's laying the foundation stone.


Charming! He's not out of the cellar, he's quite a distinguished person. There are many distinguished persons of that kind, and it's no fault of his. Life is either a tragedy or a comedy. In tragedies they die, in comedies they marry one another.


the hens' and ducks' barracks,


How pleasant!


What are you doing, you children? that is sinful!


My father lets me do it!


Craw-craw! away-away from here!


He is the grandest and most gallant gentleman in the whole country, that is not a thing to despise.


I don't care so very much about him,


I'd rather lie on coarse sacking than lie in his silken beds. I'd rather walk barefoot than drive with him in a coach!


We two cannot live under the same roof. Go away from here to our old manor house; but you had better bite your tongue off than spread any lies among the people.


Now she's come back again, the little girl who had their eggs and their young ones stolen from them; and as for the thief who had got them down, he had to climb up a leafless tree, for he sat on a tall ship's mast, and was beaten with a rope's end if he did not behave himself.


Upward and downward is the course of the world. It is strange to hear.


Come yourself, and see me do that, Dame Marie. One can breathe fresh and free at Norrebak.


He is treacherous and malicious,


You thief! you thief!


If God spares our lives and grants us a fair wind, we are going to Gronmud, near Falster,


Ludwig Holberg,


Do you know any one here with whom I could lodge cheaply?


I should think you would do well to go to the ferry-woman in Borrehaus. If you want to be very civil to her, her name is Mother Soren Sorensen Muller. But it may happen that she may fly into a fury if you are too polite to her. The man is in custody for a crime, and that's why she manages the ferry-boat herself--she has fists of her own.


The less one knows, the less it presses upon one,


You have to work hard,


That's my affair,


Have you been obliged to toil in this way from your childhood?


You can read that from my hands. You are learned, and can read.


He killed a sailor of Dragor by mischance, and for that he has to work for three years in irons. He's only a common sailor, and therefore the law must take its course.


The law is there for people of high rank, too,


Do you think so? Have you heard of Kai Lykke, who caused a church to be pulled down, and when the clergyman, Master Martin, thundered from the pulpit about it, he had him put in irons, and sat in judgment upon him, and condemned him to death? Yes, and the clergyman was obliged to bow his head to the stroke. And yet Kai Lykke went scot-free.


He had a right to do as he did in those times, but now we have left those times behind us.


You may get a fool to believe that,


I should not endure such treatment. I am come of more respectable people. My father was stocking-weaver to the Court.


And consequently you have married a governmental official. A light for each man,


For each man?


For each of the wise men from the East,


You mean it that way,


You speak very affectionately of your husband, and yet the people say that he ill-uses you every day.


That's no one's business but mine. The blows might have done me good when I was a child; now, I suppose, I get them for my sins. But I know what good he has done me. When I lay sick upon the desolate heath, and no one would have pity on me, and no one would have anything to do with me, except the crows and daws, which came to peck me to bits, he carried me in his arms, and had to bear hard words because of the burden he brought on board ship. It's not in my nature to be sick, and so I got well. Every man has his own way, and Soren has his; but the horse must not be judged by the halter. Taking one thing with another, I have lived more agreeably with him than with the man whom they called the most noble and gallant of the King's subjects. I have had the Stadtholder Gyldenlowe, the King's half-brother, for my husband; and afterwards I took Palle Dyre. One is as good as another, each in his own way, and I in mine. That was a long gossip, but now you know all about me.


Brave! brave!


They are still crying, and yet there's nothing to cry about. The family is extinct, the house has been pulled down, and where it stood is now the stately poultry-house, with gilded weathercocks, and the old Poultry Meg. She rejoices greatly in her beautiful dwelling. If she had not come here, she would have had to go into the work-house.


Nobody knew her, she belongs to no family. It's pure charity that she is here at all. She has neither a drake father nor a hen mother, and has no descendants.


Grave, grave!


Well, we'll soon find that out,


Oh, very badly! I have scarcely closed my eyes all night. Heaven only knows what was in the bed, but I was lying on something hard, so that I am black and blue all over my body. It's horrible!


A short time ago my rays followed a young artist.


You are a dreamer, and that's your misfortune. But the reason of this is, that you have never lived, you have never tasted life, you have never enjoyed it in great wholesome draughts, as it ought to be enjoyed. In youth one must mingle one's own personality with life, that they may become one. Look at the great master Raphael, whom the Pope honors and the world admires. He's no despiser of wine and bread.


And he even appreciates the baker's daughter, the pretty Fornarina,


It is your living image.


The Psyche must be executed in marble,


When the work is finished I will purchase it,


Now I know what life is, it is Love! It is the lofty abandonment of self for the dawning of the beautiful in the soul! What my friends call life and enjoyment is a passing shadow; it is like bubbles among seething dregs, not the pure heavenly wine that consecrates us to life.


Thou art a master like those masters among the ancient Greeks, soon shall the whole world admire thy Psyche.


My Psyche! Yes, mine. She must be mine. I, too, am an artist, like those great men who are gone. Providence has granted me the boon, and has made me the equal of that lady of noble birth.


Madman! away! begone!


Are you mad? What are you about? What has happened? Command yourself. Speak! Your blood grows thick from your eternal dreaming. Be a man, as all others are, and don't go on living in ideals, for that is what drives men crazy. A jovial feast will make you sleep quietly and happily. Believe me, the time will come when you will be old, and your sinews will shrink, and then, on some fine sunshiny day, when everything is laughing and rejoicing, you will lie there a faded plant, that will grow no more. I do not live in dreams, but in reality. Come with me. Be a man!


At last you have joined us, for once. Now let yourself be carried by the waves within and around you.


Never yet have I felt so well, so merry! You are right--you are all of you right. I was a fool--a dreamer. Man belongs to reality, and not to fancy.


Apollo! Jupiter! I feel myself raised to our heaven--to your glory! I feel as if the blossom of life were unfolding itself in my veins at this moment! Fie on thee! Wretched man, go, begone!


Away! begone!


Eat, and thou shalt become as God.


Man! Yes, it is thou! Art thou happy now? Thou hast sinned against God, and cast away His boon from thee--hast neglected thy mission in this world! Read the parable of the intrusted talent! The MASTER, who spoke that parable, spoke the truth! What hast thou gained? What hast thou found? Dost thou not fashion for thyself a religion and a dreamy life after thine own idea, as almost all do? Suppose all this is a dream, a fair delusion!


Get thee away from me, Satan! There is a devil, a personal devil! This day I have seen him! Once I extended a finger to him, and he took my whole hand. But now, the evil is within me, and it is in yonder man; but it does not bow him down; he goes abroad with head erect, and enjoys his comfort; and I grasped at comfort in the consolations of religion. If it were nothing but a consolation? Supposing everything here were, like the world I have quitted, only a beautiful fancy, a delusion like the beauty of the evening clouds, like the misty blue of the distant hills!--when you approach them, they are very different! O eternity! Thou actest like the great calm ocean, that beckons us, and fills us with expectation--and when we embark upon thee, we sink, disappear, and cease to be. Delusion! away with it! begone! Nothing within, nothing without--this life squandered and cast away! I can confide my griefs to none. I may speak to none of the gnawing worm within. My secret is my prisoner; if I let the captive escape, I shall be his! O Lord, my Lord! be merciful and grant me faith. I threw away the gift thou hadst vouchsafed to me, I left my mission unfulfilled. I lacked strength, and strength thou didst not give me. Immortality--the Psyche in my breast--away with it!--it shall be buried like that Psyche, the best gleam of my life; never will it arise out of its grave!


The Psyche within can never die. Shall it live in consciousness? Can the incomprehensible happen? Yes, yes. My being is incomprehensible. Thou art unfathomable, O Lord. Thy whole world is incomprehensible--a wonder-work of power, of glory and of love.


How beautiful, how perfect it is! A relic of the best period of art.


I was giving a representation,


in the hall of the posting-house in the little town of Slagelse; there was a splendid audience, entirely juvenile excepting two respectable matrons. All at once, a person in black, of student-like appearance, entered the room, and sat down; he laughed aloud at the telling points, and applauded quite at the proper time. This was a very unusual spectator for me, and I felt anxious to know who he was. I heard that he was a member of the Polytechnic Institution in Copenhagen, who had been sent out to lecture to the people in the provinces. Punctually at eight o'clock my performance closed, for children must go early to bed, and a manager must also consult the convenience of the public.


At nine o'clock the lecturer commenced his lecture and his experiments, and then I formed a part of his audience. It was wonderful both to hear and to see. The greater part of it was beyond my comprehension, but it led me to think that if we men can acquire so much, we must surely be intended to last longer than the little span which extends only to the time when we are hidden away under the earth. His experiments were quite miracles on a small scale, and yet the explanations flowed as naturally as water from his lips. At the time of Moses and the prophets, such a man would have been placed among the sages of the land; in the middle ages they would have burnt him at the stake.


All night long I could not sleep; and the next evening when I gave another performance and the lecturer was present, I was in one of my best moods.


I once heard of an actor, who, when he had to act the part of a lover, always thought of one particular lady in the audience; he only played for her, and forgot all the rest of the house, and now the Polytechnic lecturer was my she, my only auditor, for whom alone I played.


When the performance was over, and the puppets removed behind the curtain, the Polytechnic lecturer invited me into his room to take a glass of wine. He talked of my comedies, and I of his science, and I believe we were both equally pleased. But I had the best of it, for there was much in what he did that he could not always explain to me. For instance, why a piece of iron which is rubbed on a cylinder, should become magnetic. How does this happen? The magnetic sparks come to it,--but how? It is the same with people in the world; they are rubbed about on this spherical globe till the electric spark comes upon them, and then we have a Napoleon, or a Luther, or some one of the kind.


The whole world is but a series of miracles,


but we are so accustomed to them that we call them everyday matters.


One of the happiest!


are you really happy?


Yes,


for I am welcomed in every town, when I arrive with my company; but I certainly have one wish which sometimes weighs upon my cheerful temper like a mountain of lead. I should like to become the manager of a real theatre, and the director of a real troupe of men and women.


I understand,


you would like to have life breathed into your puppets, so that they might be living actors, and you their director. And would you then be quite happy?


I said I believed so. But he did not; and we talked it over in all manner of ways, yet could not agree on the subject. However, the wine was excellent, and we clanked our glasses together as we drank. There must have been magic in it, or I should most certainly become tipsy; but that did not happen, for my mind seemed quite clear; and, indeed, a kind of sunshine filled the room, and beamed from the eyes of the Polytechnic lecturer. It made me think of the old stories when the gods, in their immortal youth, wandered upon this earth, and paid visits to mankind. I said so to him, and he smiled; and I could have sworn that he was one of these ancient deities in disguise, or, at all events, that he belonged to the race of the gods. The result seemed to prove I was right in my suspicions; for it was arranged that my highest wish should be granted, that my puppets were to be gifted with life, and that I was to be the manager of a real company. We drank to my success, and clanked our glasses. Then he packed all my dolls into the box, and fastened it on my back, and I felt as if I were spinning round in a circle, and presently found myself lying on the floor. I remember that quite well. And then the whole company sprang from the box. The spirit had come upon us all; the puppets had become distinguished actors--at least, so they said themselves--and I was their director.


When all was ready for the first representation, the whole company requested permission to speak to me before appearing in public. The dancing lady said the house could not be supported unless she stood on one leg; for she was a great genius, and begged to be treated as such. The lady who acted the part of the queen expected to be treated as a queen off the stage, as well as on it, or else she said she should get out of practice. The man whose duty it was to deliver a letter gave himself as many airs as he who took the part of first lover in the piece; he declared that the inferior parts were as important as the great ones, and deserving equal consideration, as parts of an artistic whole. The hero of the piece would only play in a part containing points likely to bring down the applause of the house. The 'prima donna' would only act when the lights were red, for she declared that a blue light did not suit her complexion. It was like a company of flies in a bottle, and I was in the bottle with them; for I was their director. My breath was taken away, my head whirled, and I was as miserable as a man could be. It was quite a novel, strange set of beings among whom I now found myself. I only wished I had them all in my box again, and that I had never been their director. So I told them roundly that, after all, they were nothing but puppets; and then they killed me. After a while I found myself lying on my bed in my room; but how I got there, or how I got away at all from the Polytechnic professor, he may perhaps know, I don't. The moon shone upon the floor, the box lay open, and the dolls were all scattered about in great confusion; but I was not idle. I jumped off the bed, and into the box they all had to go, some on their heads, some on their feet. Then I shut down the lid, and seated myself upon the box. 'Now you'll have to stay,' said I, 'and I shall be cautious how I wish you flesh and blood again.'


I felt quite light, my cheerfulness had returned, and I was the happiest of mortals. The Polytechnic professor had fully cured me. I was as happy as a king, and went to sleep on the box. Next morning--correctly speaking, it was noon, for I slept remarkably late that day--I found myself still sitting there, in happy consciousness that my former wish had been a foolish one. I inquired for the Polytechnic professor; but he had disappeared like the Greek and Roman gods; from that time I have been the happiest man in the world. I am a happy director; for none of my company ever grumble, nor the public either, for I always make them merry. I can arrange my pieces just as I please. I choose out of every comedy what I like best, and no one is offended. Plays that are neglected now-a-days by the great public were ran after thirty years ago, and listened to till the tears ran down the cheeks of the audience. These are the pieces I bring forward. I place them before the little ones, who cry over them as papa and mamma used to cry thirty years ago. But I make them shorter, for the youngsters don't like long speeches; and if they have anything mournful, they like it to be over quickly.


I obtained the first prize,


No, there should be some consideration for industry and perseverance. I have heard many respectable people say so, and I can quite understand it. The snail certainly took half a year to get over the threshold of the door; but he injured himself, and broke his collar-bone by the haste he made. He gave himself up entirely to the race, and ran with his house on his back, which was all, of course, very praiseworthy; and therefore he obtained the second prize.


I think I ought to have had some consideration too,


Yes, that is your misfortune, you are so fickle, so unsettled; you must always be travelling about into foreign lands when the cold commences here. You have no love of fatherland in you. There can be no consideration for you.


But now, if I have been lying the whole winter in the moor, and suppose I slept the whole time, would that be taken into account?


Bring a certificate from the old moor-hen, that you have slept away half your time in fatherland; then you will be treated with some consideration.


I deserved the first prize, and not the second. I know so much, at least, that the hare only ran from cowardice, and because he thought there was danger in delay. I, on the other hand, made running the business of my life, and have become a cripple in the service. If any one had a first prize, it ought to have been myself. But I do not understand chattering and boasting; on the contrary, I despise it.


I am able to affirm with word of oath, that each prize--at least, those for which I voted--was given with just and proper consideration. I always act with due order, consideration, and calculation. Seven times have I already had the honor to be present at the distribution of the prizes, and to vote; but to-day is the first time I have been able to carry out my will. I always reckon the first prize by going through the alphabet from the beginning, and the second by going through from the end. Be so kind as to give me your attention, and I will explain to you how I reckon from the beginning. The eighth letter from A is H, and there we have H for hare; therefore I awarded to the hare the first prize. The eighth letter from the end of the alphabet is S, and therefore the snail received the second prize. Next year, the letter I will have its turn for the first prize, and the letter R for the second.


I should really have voted for myself, if I had not been one of the judges on the committee. Not only the rapidity with which advance is made, but every other quality should have due consideration; as, for instance, how much weight a candidate is able to draw; but I have not brought this quality forward now, nor the sagacity of the hare in his flight, nor the cunning with which he suddenly springs aside and doubles, to lead people on a false track, thinking he has concealed himself. No; there is something else on which more stress should be laid, and which ought not be left unnoticed. I mean that which mankind call the beautiful. It is on the beautiful that I particularly fix my eyes. I observed the well-grown ears of the hare; it is a pleasure to me to observe how long they are. It seemed as if I saw myself again in the days of my childhood; and so I voted for the hare.


Buz, there, I'm not going to make a long speech; but I wish to say something about hares. I have really overtaken more than one hare, when I have been seated on the engine in front of a railway train. I often do so. One can then so easily judge of one's own swiftness. Not long ago, I crushed the hind legs of a young hare. He had been running a long time before the engine; he had no idea that I was travelling there. At last he had to stop in his career, and the engine ran over his hind legs, and crushed them; for I set upon it. I left him lying there, and rode on farther. I call that conquering him; but I do not want the prize.


It really seems to me, it certainly seems to me that the sunbeam ought to have had the honor of receiving the first prize. The sunbeam flies in a few minutes along the immeasurable path from the sun to us. It arrives in such strength, that all nature awakes to loveliness and beauty; we roses blush and exhale fragrance in its presence. Our worshipful judges don't appear to have noticed this at all. Were I the sunbeam, I would give each one of them a sun stroke; but that would only make them mad, and they are mad enough already. I only hope, that peace may reign in the wood. It is glorious to bloom, to be fragrant, and to live; to live in story and in song. The sunbeam will outlive us all.


What is the first prize?


It contains a free admission to a cabbage-garden. I proposed that as one of the prizes. The hare most decidedly must have it; and I, as an active and thoughtful member of the committee, took especial care that the prize should be one of advantage to him; so now he is provided for. The snail can now sit on the fence, and lick up moss and sunshine. He has also been appointed one of the first judges of swiftness in racing. It is worth much to know that one of the numbers is a man of talent in the thing men call a 'committee.' I must say I expect much in the future; we have already made such a good beginning.


Look here, if you will give me the little girl, I will take care of her.


You are more than pretty--you are beautiful.


I suppose they are of shiny leather? They shine so.


Yes, they do shine,


Dear me, what pretty dancing-shoes! Sit fast, when you dance,


Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!


Dance you shall, dance in your red shoes till you are pale and cold, till your skin shrivels up and you are a skeleton! Dance you shall, from door to door, and where proud and wicked children live you shall knock, so that they may hear you and fear you! Dance you shall, dance--!


Mercy!


Come out, come out! I cannot come in, for I must dance.


I don't suppose you know who I am. I strike off the heads of the wicked, and I notice that my axe is tingling to do so.


Don't cut off my head! for then I could not repent of my sin. But cut off my feet with the red shoes. Now, I have suffered enough for the red shoes. I will go to church, so that people can see me. Now I have suffered and striven enough. I believe I am quite as good as many of those who sit in church and give themselves airs.


O God! help me!


It was right of you to come, Karen.


It was mercy,


Everything in the right place! Into the ditch with you.


Everything in the right place,


Grow and thrive if you can, and produce a good flute for them yonder at the mansion,


Everything in the right place! The open high road is my right place; up there I did not feel at ease.


That's a bad pastime, when the devil saw the Bible for the first time he wanted to produce a caricature in opposition to it, and invented card-playing.


It is our genealogical tree, and therefore it must be honoured.


But they did not properly belong to our family, he was a pedlar and she kept the geese. They were not like papa and mamma.


Oh, pray do not do it! That is our famous old tree. I love it very much. They often laugh at me at home about it, but that does not matter. There is a story attached to this tree. They did not like to be knighted, the good old people,


their motto was 'everything in the right place,' and it would not be right, they thought, to purchase a title for money. My grandfather, the first baron, was their son. They say he was a very learned man, a great favourite with the princes and princesses, and was invited to all court festivities. The others at home love him best; but, I do not know why, there seemed to me to be something about the old couple that attracts my heart! How homely, how patriarchal, it must have been in the old mansion, where the mistress sat at the spinning-wheel with her maids, while her husband read aloud out of the Bible!


They must have been excellent, sensible people,


It is good fortune to be of a family who have distinguished themselves, and to possess as it were a spur in oneself to advance to all that is good. It is a splendid thing to belong to a noble family, whose name serves as a card of admission to the highest circles. Nobility is a distinction; it is a gold coin that bears the stamp of its own value. It is the fallacy of the time, and many poets express it, to say that all that is noble is bad and stupid, and that, on the contrary, the lower one goes among the poor, the more brilliant virtues one finds. I do not share this opinion, for it is wrong. In the upper classes one sees many touchingly beautiful traits; my own mother has told me of such, and I could mention several. One day she was visiting a nobleman's house in town; my grandmother, I believe, had been the lady's nurse when she was a child. My mother and the nobleman were alone in the room, when he suddenly noticed an old woman on crutches come limping into the courtyard; she came every Sunday to carry a gift away with her.


There is the poor old woman,


it is so difficult for her to walk.


Some people from the street have been here,


Are you an artist?


you play on the flute, you have made it yourself; it is genius that rules--the place of honour is due to you.


Certainly not! I only advance with the time, and that of course one can't help.


I hope you will delight us all with the little instrument--will you not?


Everything in the right place.


Here rests the greatest singer in the world; over his tomb will I spread my fragrance, and on it I will let my leaves fall when the storm scatters them. He who sung of Troy became earth, and from that earth I have sprung. I, a rose from the grave of Homer, am too lofty to bloom for a nightingale.


Here is a rose from the grave of Homer.


Only wait till my time comes,


I shall do more than grow roses, bear nuts, or give milk, like the hazel-bush, the cows and the sheep.


I expect a great deal from you,


May I ask when it will appear?


I take my time,


You're always in such a hurry. That does not excite expectation.


Everything is just as it was last year! No progress at all; the rose-tree sticks to its roses and gets no farther.


You are an old rose-tree now. You must make haste and die. You have given the world all that you had in you; whether it was of much importance is a question that I have not had time to think about. But this much is clear and plain, that you have not done the least for your inner development, or you would have produced something else. Have you anything to say in defence? You will now soon be nothing but a stick. Do you understand what I say?


You frighten me. I have never thought of that.


No, you have never taken the trouble to think at all. Have you ever given yourself an account why you bloomed, and how your blooming comes about--why just in that way and in no other?


No. I bloom in gladness, because I cannot do otherwise. The sun shone and warmed me, and the air refreshed me; I drank the clear dew and the invigorating rain. I breathed and I lived! Out of the earth there arose a power within me, whilst from above I also received strength; I felt an ever-renewed and ever-increasing happiness, and therefore I was obliged to go on blooming. That was my life; I could not do otherwise.


You have led a very easy life,


Certainly. Everything was given me. But still more was given to you. Yours is one of those deep-thinking natures, one of those highly gifted minds that astonishes the world.


I have not the slightest intention of doing so. The world is nothing to me. What have I to do with the world? I have enough to do with myself, and enough in myself.


But must we not all here on earth give up our best parts to others, and offer as much as lies in our power? It is true, I have only given roses. But you--you who are so richly endowed--what have you given to the world? What will you give it?


What have I given? What am I going to give? I spit at it; it's good for nothing, and does not concern me. For my part, you may go on bearing roses; you cannot do anything else. Let the hazel bush bear nuts, and the cows and sheep give milk; they have each their public. I have mine in myself. I retire within myself and there I stop. The world is nothing to me.


That's very sad. I cannot creep into myself, however much I might wish to do so; I have to go on bearing roses. Then they drop their leaves, which are blown away by the wind. But I once saw how a rose was laid in the mistress's hymn-book, and how one of my roses found a place in the bosom of a young beautiful girl, and how another was kissed by the lips of a child in the glad joy of life. That did me good; it was a real blessing. Those are my recollections, my life.


We are as happy as human beings can be,


Life is a gracious gift from God, almost too great a gift for us to appreciate! Yet they say that fulness of joy for ever and ever can only be found in the future life. I cannot realise it!


The thought arises, perhaps, from the arrogance of men. It seems a great pride to believe that we shall live for ever, that we shall be as gods! Were not these the words of the serpent, the father of lies?


Surely you do not doubt the existence of a future life?


Faith realises it, and the priests tell us so, but amid all my happiness I feel that it is arrogant to demand a continuation of it--another life after this. Has not so much been given us in this world that we ought to be, we must be, contented with it?


Yes, it has been given to us, but this life is nothing more than one long scene of trial and hardship to many thousands. How many have been cast into this world only to endure poverty, shame, illness, and misfortune? If there were no future life, everything here would be too unequally divided, and God would not be the personification of justice.


The beggar there, has joys of his own which seem to him great, and cause him as much pleasure as a king would find in the magnificence of his palace. And then do you not think that the beast of burden, which suffers blows and hunger, and works itself to death, suffers just as much from its miserable fate? The dumb creature might demand a future life also, and declare the law unjust that excludes it from the advantages of the higher creation.


In my father's house are many mansions. Heaven is as boundless as the love of our Creator; the dumb animal is also His creature, and I firmly believe that no life will be lost, but each will receive as much happiness as he can enjoy, which will be sufficient for him.


This world is sufficient for me,


Such a moment, makes it worth while to be born, to die, and to be annihilated!


Farewell, he said, and sailed away.


And many recollect that day.


The ropes were of silk, the anchor of gold,


And everywhere riches and wealth untold.


God grant that we once more may meet


In sweet unclouded peace and joy.


'Mid storm and wind, and pelting hail,


Their efforts were of no avail.


The golden anchor forth they threw;


Towards Denmark the west wind blew.


It was a good sermon to-day. If we had not God to trust in, we should have nothing.


Yes. He sends joy and sorrow, and He has a right to send them. To-morrow our little son would have been five years old if we had been permitted to keep him.


It is no use fretting, wife. The boy is well provided for. He is where we hope and pray to go to.


There's a large ship stranded on the farthest reef.


Alas! how terrible to see


The gallant bark sink rapidly.


Foundered at sea--all lost.


It must certainly be a Jewish child, its skin is so dark,


It might be an Italian or a Spaniard,


Don't go too far. The ugly eel-spearer might come and snap you all up. We only went a little way out, and the ugly eel-spearer came immediately and stabbed five of our sisters to death. They'll come back again. Oh, no, for he skinned them, cut them in two, and fried them. Oh, they'll come back again. No, for he ate them up. But he drank brandy after them. Ah, then they'll never come back, it's the brandy that buries the eels. And therefore, it is always the proper thing to drink brandy after eating eels.


There are so many bad people--eel spearers!


Go after him and say, 'Master, the tower shakes.' If he turns round, kill him and take away the money I paid him, but if he does not turn round let him go in peace.


The tower does not shake in the least, but one day a man will come from the west in a blue cloak--he will cause it to shake!


That is Lokeman driving his sheep,


Ours are better, these have no strength.


I shall get over it,


Ah! ah! you are one of that sort, are you? Fond of using the knife!


Hit me in the face! I deserve it. But sometimes I feel as if I had a pot in me that boils over.


There, let the thing rest,


Jurgen, I have something I want to say to you; let me be your manager, for you are like a brother to me; but Martin, whose housekeeper I am--he is my lover--but you need not tell this to the others.


Then it would be all over with me and Martin too! Father-let me come!


You will not go to sea again, Jurgen, I suppose. You will always stay with us now.


You have a home now; you ought to think of that.


If Martin had a house like mine, which of us would you rather have?


But Martin has no house and cannot get one.


Suppose he had one?


Well, then I would certainly take Martin, for that is what my heart tells me; but one cannot live upon love.


a little way out, beyond the bay,


Beware of bad people who will catch you, and skin you, and put you in the frying-pan!


This wicked deed will cost you your life. It is a good thing we have caught you.


Free! free! How happy to be free, even barefooted and in ragged clothes!


The money is here, where it ought to be.


Let everything be buried and forgotten. Let us draw a thick line through last year: we will even burn the almanack. In two days we will start for dear, friendly, peaceful Skjagen. People call it an out-of-the-way corner; but it is a good warm chimney-corner, and its windows open toward every part of the world.


In the hour of peril when most men fear, He clasped the bride that he held so dear, And proved himself the son of a King; Of his courage and valour let us sing.


And it does one good to look at you also, old wife,


Jurgen has brought fresh life into our winter evenings, and into you too, mother. You look younger than ever this year, and seem well and cheerful. But then you were once the prettiest girl in Viborg, and that is saying a great deal, for I have always found the Viborg girls the prettiest of any.


In the hour of peril when most men fear, He clasped the bride that he held so dear.


Let us pray that God may take him, for he will never be the same man again.


He was hurt while endeavouring to save our child, and now he is our son.


Poor mad Jurgen,


The Lord is good to all; and His mercy is over all His works.


Home, home!


The ropes were of silk, the anchor of gold, And everywhere riches and pomp untold. Through love to glory, no life is lost, the future is full of blessings and happiness. Hallelujah!


There will not be a dry thread left on the poor people who are out in this weather,


Oh, open the door! I am so cold and wet through,


Poor creature! Poor little thing! Come to me; I will soon warm you. You shall have some wine and an apple, for you are such a pretty boy.


You are a merry boy. What is your name?


My name is Cupid. Don't you know me? There lies my bow. I shoot with that, you know. Look, the weather is getting fine again--the moon is shining.


But your bow is spoilt,


That would be unfortunate. Oh, it's quite dry and isn't damaged at all. The string is quite tight; I'll try it. Do you see now that my bow was not spoilt?


Oh! what a naughty boy this Cupid is! I shall tell all the good children about this, so that they take care never to play with him, lest he hurt them.


It is just as if some one was practising a piece that he could not manage; it is always the same piece. He thinks, I suppose, that he will be able to manage it at last; but I do not think so, however long he may play it.


I think my shadow is the only living thing to be seen opposite, see how pleasantly it sits among the flowers. The door is only ajar; the shadow ought to be clever enough to step in and look about him, and then to come back and tell me what he has seen. You could make yourself useful in this way, be so good as to step in now, will you? Now go, but don't stay away altogether. How is this? I have lost my shadow. So it really did go away yesterday evening, and it has not returned. This is very annoying.


Hem, a-hem;


Come in. To whom have I the honor of speaking?


Ah, I hoped you would recognize me. I have gained so much that I have a body of flesh, and clothes to wear. You never expected to see me in such a condition. Do you not recognize your old shadow? Ah, you never expected that I should return to you again. All has been prosperous with me since I was with you last; I have become rich in every way, and, were I inclined to purchase my freedom from service, I could easily do so.


I cannot recover from my astonishment. What does all this mean?


Something rather unusual,


but you are yourself an uncommon man, and you know very well that I have followed in your footsteps ever since your childhood. As soon as you found that I have travelled enough to be trusted alone, I went my own way, and I am now in the most brilliant circumstances. But I felt a kind of longing to see you once more before you die, and I wanted to see this place again, for there is always a clinging to the land of one's birth. I know that you have now another shadow; do I owe you anything? If so, have the goodness to say what it is.


No! Is it really you?


Well, this is most remarkable; I never supposed it possible that a man's old shadow could become a human being.


Just tell me what I owe you,


for I do not like to be in debt to any man.


How can you talk in that manner?


What question of debt can there be between us? You are as free as any one. I rejoice exceedingly to hear of your good fortune. Sit down, old friend, and tell me a little of how it happened, and what you saw in the house opposite to me while we were in those hot climates.


Yes, I will tell you all about it,


but then you must promise me never to tell in this city, wherever you may meet me, that I have been your shadow. I am thinking of being married, for I have more than sufficient to support a family.


Make yourself quite easy,


I will tell no one who you really are. Here is my hand,--I promise, and a word is sufficient between man and man.


Between man and a shadow,


Now I will relate to you what you wish to know,


Do you know,


that in the house opposite to you lived the most glorious creature in the world? It was poetry. I remained there three weeks, and it was more like three thousand years, for I read all that has ever been written in poetry or prose; and I may say, in truth, that I saw and learnt everything.


Poetry!


Yes, she lives as a hermit in great cities. Poetry! Well, I saw her once for a very short moment, while sleep weighed down my eyelids. She flashed upon me from the balcony like the radiant aurora borealis, surrounded with flowers like flames of fire. Tell me, you were on the balcony that evening; you went through the door, and what did you see?


I found myself in an ante-room,


You still sat opposite to me, looking into the room. There was no light, or at least it seemed in partial darkness, for the door of a whole suite of rooms stood open, and they were brilliantly lighted. The blaze of light would have killed me, had I approached too near the maiden myself, but I was cautious, and took time, which is what every one ought to do.


And what didst thou see?


I saw everything, as you shall hear. But--it really is not pride on my part, as a free man and possessing the knowledge that I do, besides my position, not to speak of my wealth--I wish you would say you to me instead of thou.


I beg your pardon,


it is an old habit, which it is difficult to break. You are quite right; I will try to think of it. But now tell me everything that you saw.


Everything,


for I saw and know everything.


What was the appearance of the inner rooms?


Was it there like a cool grove, or like a holy temple? Were the chambers like a starry sky seen from the top of a high mountain?


It was all that you describe,


but I did not go quite in--I remained in the twilight of the ante-room--but I was in a very good position,--I could see and hear all that was going on in the court of poetry.


But what did you see? Did the gods of ancient times pass through the rooms? Did old heroes fight their battles over again? Were there lovely children at play, who related their dreams?


I tell you I have been there, and therefore you may be sure that I saw everything that was to be seen. If you had gone there, you would not have remained a human being, whereas I became one; and at the same moment I became aware of my inner being, my inborn affinity to the nature of poetry. It is true I did not think much about it while I was with you, but you will remember that I was always much larger at sunrise and sunset, and in the moonlight even more visible than yourself, but I did not then understand my inner existence. In the ante-room it was revealed to me. I became a man; I came out in full maturity. But you had left the warm countries. As a man, I felt ashamed to go about without boots or clothes, and that exterior finish by which man is known. So I went my own way; I can tell you, for you will not put it in a book. I hid myself under the cloak of a cake woman, but she little thought who she concealed. It was not till evening that I ventured out. I ran about the streets in the moonlight. I drew myself up to my full height upon the walls, which tickled my back very pleasantly. I ran here and there, looked through the highest windows into the rooms, and over the roofs. I looked in, and saw what nobody else could see, or indeed ought to see; in fact, it is a bad world, and I would not care to be a man, but that men are of some importance. I saw the most miserable things going on between husbands and wives, parents and children,--sweet, incomparable children. I have seen what no human being has the power of knowing, although they would all be very glad to know--the evil conduct of their neighbors. Had I written a newspaper, how eagerly it would have been read! Instead of which, I wrote directly to the persons themselves, and great alarm arose in all the town I visited. They had so much fear of me, and yet how dearly they loved me. The professor made me a professor. The tailor gave me new clothes; I am well provided for in that way. The overseer of the mint struck coins for me. The women declared that I was handsome, and so I became the man you now see me. And now I must say adieu. Here is my card. I live on the sunny side of the street, and always stay at home in rainy weather.


This is all very remarkable,


How are you going on now?


Ah!


I am writing about the true, the beautiful, and the good; but no one cares to hear anything about it. I am quite in despair, for I take it to heart very much.


That is what I never do,


I am growing quite fat and stout, which every one ought to be. You do not understand the world; you will make yourself ill about it; you ought to travel; I am going on a journey in the summer, will you go with me? I should like a travelling companion; will you travel with me as my shadow? It would give me great pleasure, and I will pay all expenses.


Are you going to travel far?


That is a matter of opinion,


a journey will do you good, and if you will be my shadow, then all your journey shall be paid.


It appears to me very absurd,


But it is the way of the world,


and always will be.


You really look like a shadow,


You really ought to go to some watering-place,


There is no other chance for you. I will take you with me, for the sake of old acquaintance. I will pay the expenses of your journey, and you shall write a description of it to amuse us by the way. I should like to go to a watering-place; my beard does not grow as it ought, which is from weakness, and I must have a beard. Now do be sensible and accept my proposal; we shall travel as intimate friends.


We have grown up together from our childhood, and now that we have become travelling companions, shall we not drink to our good fellowship, and say thee and thou to each other?


What you say is very straightforward and kindly meant,


I will be equally kind and straightforward. You are a learned man, and know how wonderful human nature is. There are some men who cannot endure the smell of brown paper; it makes them ill. Others will feel a shuddering sensation to their very marrow, if a nail is scratched on a pane of glass. I myself have a similar kind of feeling when I hear any one say thou to me. I feel crushed by it, as I used to feel in my former position with you. You will perceive that this is a matter of feeling, not pride. I cannot allow you to say thou to me; I will gladly say it to you, and therefore your wish will be half fulfilled.


It is going rather too far,


that I am to say you when I speak to him, and he is to say thou to me.


Your illness consists in not being able to cast a shadow.


Your royal highness must be on the high road to recovery from your illness,