安徒生童话-第128部分

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thebrothers　of　the　little　girl；　those　great　naughty　boys；　had　set　thedoll　high　up　in　the　branches　of　a　tree　and　had　run　away。

〃The　little　girl　could　not　reach　up　to　the　doll；　and　could　nothelp　her　down；　and　that　is　why　she　was　crying。　The　doll　must　certainlyhave　been　crying　too；　for　she　stretched　out　her　arms　among　the　greenbranches；　and　looked　quite　mournful。　Yes；　these　are　the　troubles　oflife　of　which　the　little　girl　had　often　heard　tell。　Alas；　poor　doll！it　began　to　grow　dark　already；　and　suppose　night　were　to　e　onpletely！　Was　she　to　be　left　sitting　on　the　bough　all　night　long？No；　the　little　maid　could　not　make　up　her　mind　to　that。　'I'll　staywith　you；'　she　said；　although　she　felt　anything　but　happy　in　her　mind。She　could　almost　fancy　she　distinctly　saw　little　gnomes；　with　theirhigh…crowned　hats；　sitting　in　the　bushes；　and　further　back　in　the　longwalk；　tall　spectres　appeared　to　be　dancing。　They　came　nearer　andnearer；　and　stretched　out　their　hands　towards　the　tree　on　which　thedoll　sat；　they　laughed　scornfully；　and　pointed　at　her　with　theirfingers。　Oh；　how　frightened　the　little　maid　was！　'But　if　one　has　notdone　anything　wrong；'　she　thought；　'nothing　evil　can　harm　one。　Iwonder　if　I　have　done　anything　wrong？'　And　she　considered。　'Oh；　yes！　Ilaughed　at　the　poor　duck　with　the　red　rag　on　her　leg；　she　limped　alongso　funnily；　I　could　not　help　laughing；　but　it's　a　sin　to　laugh　atanimals。'　And　she　looked　up　at　the　doll。　'Did　you　laugh　at　the　ducktoo？'　she　asked；　and　it　seemed　as　if　the　doll　shook　her　head。〃

　TWENTY…SECOND　EVENING

〃I　looked　down　upon　Tyrol；〃　said　the　Moon；　〃and　my　beams　causedthe　dark　pines　to　throw　long　shadows　upon　the　rocks。　I　looked　at　thepictures　of　St。　Christopher　carrying　the　Infant　Jesus　that　are　paintedthere　upon　the　walls　of　the　houses；　colossal　figures　reaching　from　theground　to　the　roof。　St。　Florian　was　represented　pouring　water　on　theburning　house；　and　the　Lord　hung　bleeding　on　the　great　cross　by　thewayside。　To　the　present　generation　these　are　old　pictures；　but　I　sawwhen　they　were　put　up；　and　marked　how　one　followed　the　other。　On　thebrow　of　the　mountain　yonder　is　perched；　like　a　swallow's　nest；　alonely　convent　of　nuns。　Two　of　the　sisters　stood　up　in　the　towertolling　the　bell；　they　were　both　young；　and　therefore　their　glancesflew　over　the　mountain　out　into　the　world。　A　travelling　coach　passedby　below；　the　postillion　wound　his　horn；　and　the　poor　nuns　lookedafter　the　carriage　for　a　moment　with　a　mournful　glance；　and　a　teargleamed　in　the　eyes　of　the　younger　one。　And　the　horn　sounded　faint　andmore　faintly；　and　the　convent　bell　drowned　its　expiring　echoes。〃

　TWENTY…THIRD　EVENING

Hear　what　the　Moon　told　me。　〃Some　years　ago；　here　in　Copenhagen；　Ilooked　through　the　window　of　a　mean　little　room。　The　father　and　motherslept；　but　the　little　son　was　not　asleep。　I　saw　the　flowered　cottoncurtains　of　the　bed　move；　and　the　child　peep　forth。　At　first　I　thoughthe　was　looking　at　the　great　clock；　which　was　gaily　painted　in　redand　green。　At　the　top　sat　a　cuckoo；　below　hung　the　heavy　leadenweights；　and　the　pendulum　with　the　polished　disc　of　metal　went　toand　fro；　and　said　'tick；　tick。'　But　no；　he　was　not　looking　at　theclock；　but　at　his　mother's　spinning　wheel；　that　stood　justunderneath　it。　That　was　the　boy's　favourite　piece　of　furniture；　but　hedared　not　touch　it；　for　if　he　meddled　with　it　he　got　a　rap　on　theknuckles。　For　hours　together；　when　his　mother　was　spinning；　he　wouldsit　quietly　by　her　side；　watching　the　murmuring　spindle　and　therevolving　wheel；　and　as　he　sat　he　thought　of　many　things。　Oh；　if　hemight　only　turn　the　wheel　himself！　Father　and　mother　were　asleep；　helooked　at　them；　and　looked　at　the　spinning　wheel；　and　presently　alittle　naked　foot　peered　out　of　the　bed；　and　then　a　second　foot；　andthen　two　little　white　legs。　There　he　stood。　He　looked　round　once　more；to　see　if　father　and　mother　were　still　asleep…　yes；　they　slept；　andnow　he　crept　softly；　softly；　in　his　short　little　nightgown；　to　thespinning　wheel；　and　began　to　spin。　The　thread　flew　from　the　wheel；　andthe　wheel　whirled　faster　and　faster。　I　kissed　his　fair　hair　and　hisblue　eyes；　it　was　such　a　pretty　picture。

〃At　that　moment　the　mother　awoke。　The　curtain　shook；　she　lookedforth；　and　fancied　she　saw　a　gnome　or　some　other　kind　of　littlespectre。　'In　Heaven's　name！'　she　cried；　and　aroused　her　husband　in　afrightened　way。　He　opened　his　eyes；　rubbed　them　with　his　hands；　andlooked　at　the　brisk　little　lad。　'Why；　that　is　Bertel；'　said　he。　And　myeye　quitted　the　poor　room；　for　I　have　so　much　to　see。　At　the　samemoment　I　looked　at　the　halls　of　the　Vatican；　where　the　marble　gods　areenthroned。　I　shone　upon　the　group　of　the　Laocoon；　the　stone　seemedto　sigh。　I　pressed　a　silent　kiss　on　the　lips　of　the　Muses；　and　theyseemed　to　stir　and　move。　But　my　rays　lingered　longest　about　the　Nilegroup　with　the　colossal　god。　Leaning　against　the　Sphinx；　he　lies　therethoughtful　and　meditative；　as　if　he　were　thinking　on　the　rollingcenturies；　and　little　love…gods　sport　with　him　and　with　thecrocodiles。　In　the　horn　of　plenty　sat　with　folded　arms　a　little　tinylove…god；　contemplating　the　great　solemn　river…god；　a　true　pictureof　the　boy　at　the　spinning　wheel…　the　features　were　exactly　thesame。　Charming　and　life…like　stood　the　little　marble　form；　and　yet　thewheel　of　the　year　has　turned　more　than　a　thousand　times　since　the　timewhen　it　sprang　forth　from　the　stone。　Just　as　often　as　the　boy　in　thelittle　room　turned　the　spinning　wheel　had　the　great　wheel　murmured；before　the　age　could　again　call　forth　marble　gods　equal　to　those　heafterwards　formed。

〃Years　have　passed　since　all　this　happened；〃　the　Moon　went　on　tosay。　〃Yesterday　I　looked　upon　a　bay　on　the　eastern　coast　of　Denmark。Glorious　woods　are　there；　and　high　trees；　an　old　knightly　castlewith　red　walls；　swans　floating　in　the　ponds；　and　in　the　backgroundappears；　among　orchards；　a　little　town　with　a　church。　Many　boats；the　crews　all　furnished　with　torches；　glided　over　the　silentexpanse…　but　these　fires　had　not　been　kindled　for　catching　fish；　foreverything　had　a　festive　look。　Music　sounded；　a　song　was　sung；　andin　one　of　the　boats　the　man　stood　erect　to　whom　homage　was　paid　by　therest；　a　tall　sturdy　man；　wrapped　in　a　cloak。　He　had　blue　eyes　and　longwhite　hair。　I　knew　him；　and　thought　of　the　Vatican；　and　of　the　groupof　the　Nile；　and　the　old　marble　gods。　I　thought　of　the　simple　littleroom　where　little　Bertel　sat　in　his　night…shirt　by　the　spinning　wheel。The　wheel　of　time　has　turned；　and　new　gods　have　e　forth　from　thestone。　From　the　boats　there　arose　a　shout：　'Hurrah；　hurrah　forBertel　Thorwaldsen！'〃

　TWENTY…FOURTH　EVENING

〃I　will　now　give　you　a　picture　from　Frankfort；〃　said　the　Moon。〃I　especially　noticed　one　building　there。　It　was　not　the　house　inwhich　Goethe　was　born；　nor　the　old　Council　House；　through　whose　gratedwindows　peered　the　horns　of　the　oxen　that　were　roasted　and　given　tothe　people　when　the　emperors　were　crowned。　No；　it　was　a　private　house；plain　in　appearance；　and　painted　green。　It　stood　near　the　old　Jews'Street。　It　was　Rothschild's　house。

〃I　looked　through　the　open　door。　The　staircase　was　brilliantlylighted：　servants　carrying　wax　candles　in　massive　silvercandlesticks　stood　there；　and　bowed　low　before　an　old　woman；　who　wasbeing　brought　downstairs　in　a　litter。　The　proprietor　of　the　housestood　bare…headed；　and　respectfully　imprinted　a　kiss　on　the　hand　ofthe　old　woman。　She　was　his　mother。　She　nodded　in　a　friendly　mannerto　him　and　to　the　servants；　and　they　carried　her　into　the　darknarrow　street；　into　a　little　house；　that　was　her　dwelling。　Here　herchildren　had　been　born；　from　hence　the　fortune　of　the　family　hadarisen。　If　she　deserted　the　despised　street　and　the　little　house；fortune　would　also　desert　her　children。　That　was　her　firm　belief。〃

The　Moon　told　me　no　more；　his　visit　this　evening　was　far　tooshort。　But　I　thought　of　the　old　woman　in　the　narrow　despised　street。It　would　have　cost　her　but　a　word；　and　a　brilliant　house　would　havearisen　for　her　on　the　banks　of　the　Thames…　a　word；　and　a　villa　wouldhave　been　prepared　in　the　Bay　of　Naples。

〃If　I　deserted　the　lowly　house；　where　the　fortunes　of　my　sonsfirst　began　to　bloom；　fortune　would　desert　them！〃　It　was　asuperstition；　but　a　superstition　of　such　a　class；　that　he　who　knowsthe　story　and　has　seen　this　picture；　need　have　only　two　words　placedunder　the　picture　to　make　him　understand　it；　and　these　two　wordsare：　〃A　mother。〃

　TWENTY…FIFTH　EVENING

〃It　was　yesterday；　in　the　morning　twilight〃…　these　are　the　wordsthe　Moon　told　me…　〃in　the　great　city　no　chimney　was　yet　smoking…　andit　was　just　at　the　chimneys　that　I　was　looking。　Suddenly　a　little　heademerged　from　one　of　them；　and　then　half　a　body；　the　arms　resting　onthe　rim　of　the　chimney…pot。　'Ya…hip！　ya…hip！'　cried　a　voice。　It　wasthe　little　chimney…sweeper；　who　had　for　the　first　time　in　his　lifecrept　through　a　chimney；　and　stuck　out　his　head　at　the　top。　'Ya…hip！ya…hip'　Yes；　certainly　that　was　a　very　different　thing　to　creepingabout　in　the　dark　narrow　chimneys！　the　air　blew　so　fresh；　and　he　couldlook　over　the　whole　city　towards　the　green　wood。　The　sun　was　justrising。　It　shone　round　and　great；　just　in　his　face；　that　beamed　withtriumph；　though　it　was　very　prettily　blacked　with　soot。

〃'The　whole　town　can　see　me　now；'　he　exclaimed；　'and　the　mooncan　see　me　now；　and　the　sun　too。　Ya…hip！　ya…hip！'　And　he　flourishedhis　broom　in　triumph。〃

　TWENTY…SIXTH　EVENING

〃Last　night　I　looked　down　upon　a　town　in　China；〃　said　the　Moon。〃My　beams　irradiated　the　naked　walls　that　form　the　streets　there。Now　and　then；　certainly；　a　door　is　seen；　but　it　is　locked；　for　whatdoes　the　Chinaman　care　about　the　outer　world？　Close　wooden　shutterscovered　the　windows　behind　the　walls　of　the　houses；　but　through　thewindows　of　the　temple　a　faint　light　glimmered。　I　looked　in；　and　sawthe　quaint　decorations　within。　From　the　floor　to　the　ceilingpictures　are　painted；　in　the　most　glaring　colours；　and　richly　gilt…pictures　representing　the　deeds　of　the　gods　here　on　earth。　In　eachniche　statues　are　placed；　but　they　are　almost　entirely　hidden　by　thecoloured　drapery　and　the　banners　that　hang　down。　Before　each　idol　（andthey　are　all　made　of　tin）　stood　a　little　altar　of　holy　water；　withflowers　and　burning　wax　lights　on　it。　Above　all　the　rest　stood　Fo；　thechief　deity；　clad　in　a　garment　of　yellow　silk；　for　yellow　is　herethe　sacred　colour。　At　the　foot　of　the　altar　sat　a　living　being；　ayoung　priest。　He　appeared　to　be　praying；　but　in　the　midst　of　hisprayer　he　seemed　to　fall　into　deep　thought；　and　this　must　have　beenwrong；　for　his　cheeks　glowed　and　he　held　down　his　head。　PoorSoui…Hong！　Was　he；　perhaps；　dreaming　of　working　in　the　little　flowergarden　behind　the　high　street　wall？　And　did　that　occupation　seemmore　agreeable　to　him　than　watching　the　wax　lights　in　the　temple？　Ordid　he　wish　to　sit　at　the　rich　feast；　wiping　his　mouth　with　silverpaper　between　each　course？　Or　was　his　sin　so　great　that；　if　he　daredutter　it；　the　Celestial　Empire　would　punish　it　with　death？　Had　histhoughts　ventured　to　fly　with　the　ships　of　the　barbarians；　to　theirhomes　in　far　distant　England？　No；　his　thoughts　did　not　fly　so　far；　andyet　they　were　sinful；　sinful　as　thoughts　born　of　young　hearts；sinful　here　in　the　temple；　in　the　presence　of　Fo　and　the　other　holygods。

〃I　know　whither　his　thoughts　had　strayed。　At　the　farther　end　ofthe　city；　on　the　flat　roof　paved　with　porcelain；　on　which　stood　thehandsome　vases　covered　with　painted　flowers；　sat　the　beauteous　Pu；of　the　little　roguish　eyes；　of　the　full　lips；　and　of　the　tiny　feet。The　tight　shoe　pained　her；　but　her　heart　pained　her　still　more。　Shelifted　her　graceful　round　arm；　and　her　satin　dress　rustled。　Before　herstood　a　glass　bowl　containing　four　gold…fish。　She　stirred　the　bowlcarefully　with　a　slender　lacquered　stick；　very　slowly；　for　she；　too；was　lost　in　thought。　Was　she　thinking；　perchance；　how　the　fisheswere　richly　clothed　in　gold；　how　they　lived　calmly　and　peacefully　intheir　crystal　world；　how　they　were　regularly　fed；　and　yet　how　muchhappier　they　might　be　if　they　were　free？　Yes；　that　she　could　wellunderstand；　the　beautiful　Pu。　Her　thoughts　wandered　away　from　herhome；　wandered　to　the　temple；　but　not　for　the　sake　of　holy　things。Poor　Pu！　Poor　Soui…hong！

〃Their　earthly　thoughts　met；　but　my　cold　beam　lay　between　the　two；like　the　sword　of　the　cherub。〃

　TWENTY…SEVENTH　EVENING

〃The　air　was　calm；〃　said　the　Moon；　〃the　water　was　transparent　asthe　purest　ether　through　which　I　was　gliding；　and　deep　below　thesurface　I　could　see　the　strange　plants　that　stretched　up　their　longarms　towards　me　like　the　gigantic　trees　of　the　forest。　The　fishes　swamto　and　fro　above　their　tops。　High　in　the　air　a　flight　of　wild　swanswere　winging　their　way；　one　of　which　sank　lower　and　lower；　withwearied　pinions；　his　eyes　following　the　airy　caravan；　that　meltedfarther　and　farther　into　the　distance。　With　outspread　wings　he　sankslowly；　as　a　soap　bubble　sinks　in　the　still　air；　till　he　touched　thewater。　At　length　his　head　lay　back　between　his　wings；　and　silentlyhe　lay　there；　like　a　white　lotus　flower　upon　the　quiet　lake。　And　agentle　wind　arose；　and　crisped　the　quiet　surface；　which　gleamed　likethe　clouds　that　poured　along　in　great　broad　waves；　and　the　swan　raisedhis　head；　and　the　glowing　water　splashed　like　blue　fire　over　hisbreast　and　back。　The　morning　dawn　illuminated　the　red　clouds；　the　swanrose　strengthened；　and　flew　towards　the　rising　sun；　towards　the　bluishcoast　whither　the　caravan　had　gone；　but　he　flew　alone；　with　alonging　in　his　breast。　Lonely　he　flew　over　the　blue　swelling　billows。〃

　TWENTY…EIGHTH　EVENING

〃I　will　give　you　another　picture　of　Sweden；〃　said　the　Moon。　〃Amongdark　pine　woods；　near　the　melancholy　banks　of　the　Stoxen；　lies　the　oldconvent　church　of　Wreta。　My　rays　glided　through　the　grating　into　theroomy　vaults；　where　kings　sleep　tranquilly　in　great　stone　coffins。On　the　wall；　above　the　grave　of　each；　is　placed　the　emblem　ofearthly　grandeur；　a　kingly　crown；　but　it　is　made　only　of　wood；　paintedand　gilt；　and　is　hung　on　a　wooden　peg　driven　into　the　wall。　Theworms　have　gnawed　the　gilded　wood；　the　spider　has　spun　her　web　fromthe　crown　down　to　the　sand；　like　a　mourning　banner；　frail　andtransient　as　the　grief　of　mortals。　How　quietly　they　sleep！　I　canremember　them　quite　plainly。　I　still　see　the　bold　smile　on　their　lips；that　so　strongly　and　plainly　expressed　joy　or　grief。　When　thesteamboat　winds　along　like　a　magic　snail　over　the　lakes；　a　strangeroften　es　to　the　church；　and　visits　the　burial　vault；　he　asks　thenames　of　the　kings；　and　they　have　a　dead　and　forgotten　sound。　Heglances　with　a　smile　at　the　worm…eaten　crowns；　and　if　he　happens　to　bea　pious；　thoughtful　man；　something　of　melancholy　mingles　with　thesmile。　Slumber　on；　ye　dead　ones！　The　Moon　thinks　of　you；　the　Moon　atnight　sends　down　his　rays　into　your　silent　kingdom；　over　which　hangsthe　crown　of　pine　wood。〃

　TWENTY…NINTH　EVENING

〃Close　by　the　high…road；〃　said　the　Moon；　〃is　an　inn；　andopposite　to　it　is　a　great　waggon…shed；　whose　straw　roof　was　just　beingre…thatched。　I　looked　down　between　the　bare　rafters　and　through　theopen　loft　into　the　fortless　space　below。　The　turkey…cock　slept　onthe　beam；　and　the　saddle　rested　in　the　empty　crib。　In　the　middle　ofthe　shed　stood　a　travelling　carriage；　the　proprietor　was　inside；fast　asleep；　while　the　horses　were　being　watered。　The　coachmanstretched　himself；　though　I　am　very　sure　that　he　had　been　mostfortably　asleep　half　the　last　stage。　The　door　o