安徒生童话-第34章
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Little Tuk did not at all know what he had dreamt； but One abovedid。
THE END。
1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
OLE THE TOWER…KEEPER
by Hans Christian Andersen
〃IN the world it's always going up and down； and now I can't go upany higher！〃 So said Ole the tower…keeper。 〃Most people have to tryboth the ups and the downs； and； rightly considered； we all get tobe watchmen at last； and look down upon life from a height。〃
Such was the speech of Ole； my friend； the old tower…keeper； astrange； talkative old fellow； who seemed to speak out everything thatcame into his head； and who for all that had many a serious thoughtdeep in his heart。 Yes； he was the child of respectable people； andthere were even some who said that he was the son of a privycouncillor； or that he might have been。 He had studied； too； and hadbeen assistant teacher and deputy clerk； but of what service was allthat to him？ In those days he lived in the clerk's house； and was tohave everything in the house… to be at free quarters； as the sayingis； but he was still； so to speak； a fine young gentleman。 He wantedto have his boots cleaned with patent blacking； and the clerk couldonly afford ordinary grease； and upon that point they split。 One spokeof stinginess； the other of vanity； and the blacking became theblack cause of enmity between them； and at last they parted。
This is what he demanded of the world in general； namely； patentblacking； and he got nothing but grease。 Accordingly； he at lastdrew back from all men； and became a hermit； but the church tower isthe only place in a great city where hermitage； office and bread canbe found together。 So he betook himself up thither； and smoked hispipe as he made his solitary rounds。 He looked upward and downward；and had his own thoughts； and told in his own way of what he read inbooks and in himself。 I often lent him books… good books； and youmay know by the pany he keeps。 He loved neither the Englishgoverness novels nor the French ones； which he called a mixture ofempty wind and raisin…stalks： he wanted biographies； anddescriptions of the wonders of； the world。 I visited him at least oncea year； generally directly after New Year's day； and then he alwaysspoke of this and that which the change of the year had put into hishead。
I will tell the story of three of these visits； and will reproducehis own words whenever I can remember them。
FIRST VISIT
Among the books which I had lately lent Ole； was one which hadgreatly rejoiced and occupied him。 It was a geological book；containing an account of the boulders。
〃Yes； they're rare old fellows； those boulders！〃 he said； 〃andto think that we should pass them without noticing them！ And overthe street pavement； the paving stones； those fragments of theoldest remains of antiquity； one walks without ever thinking aboutthem。 I have done the very thing myself。 But now I look respectfullyat every paving…stone。 Many thanks for the book！ It has filled me withthought； and has made me long to read more on the subject。 The romanceof the earth is； after all； the most wonderful of all romances。 It's apity one can't read the first volume of it； because it is written in alanguage that we don't understand。 One must read in the differentstrata； in the pebble…stones； for each separate period。 Yes； it is aromance； a very wonderful romance； and we all have our place in it。 Wegrope and ferret about； and yet remain where we are； but the ballkeeps turning； without emptying the ocean over us； the clod on whichwe move about； holds； and does not let us through。 And then it's astory that has been acting for thousands upon thousands of years andis still going on。 My best thanks for the book about the boulders。Those are fellows indeed！ They could tell us something worthhearing； if they only knew how to talk。 It's really a pleasure now andthen to bee a mere nothing； especially when a man is as highlyplaced as I am。 And then to think that we all； even with patentlacquer； are nothing more than insects of a moment on that ant…hillthe earth； though we may be insects with stars and garters； places andoffices！ One feels quite a novice beside these venerablemillion…year…old boulders。 On last New Year's eve I was reading thebook； and had lost myself in it so pletely； that I forgot myusual New Year's diversion； namely； the wild hunt to Amack。 Ah； youdon't know what that is！
〃The journey of the witches on broomsticks is well enough known…that journey is taken on St。 John's eve； to the Brocken； but we have awild journey； also which is national and modern； and that is thejourney to Amack on the night of the New Year。 All indifferent poetsand poetesses； musicians； newspaper writers； and artisticnotabilities；… I mean those who are no good；… ride in the New Year'snight through the air to Amack。 They sit backwards on their paintingbrushes or quill pens； for steel pens won't bear them… they're toostiff。 As I told you； I see that every New Year's night； and couldmention the majority of the riders by name； but I should not like todraw their enmity upon myself； for they don't like people to talkabout their ride to Amack on quill pens。 I've a kind of niece； whois a fishwife； and who； as she tells me； supplies three respectablenewspapers with the terms of abuse and vituperation they use； andshe has herself been at Amack as an invited guest； but she was carriedout thither； for she does not own a quill pen； nor can she ride。 Shehas told me all about it。 Half of what she said is not true； but theother half gives us information enough。 When she was out there； thefestivities began with a song； each of the guests had written hisown song； and each one sang his own song； for he thought that thebest； and it was all one； all the same melody。 Then those camemarching up； in little bands； who are only busy with their mouths。There were ringing bells that rang alternately； and then came thelittle drummers that beat their tattoo in the family circle； andacquaintance was made with those who write without putting theirnames； which here means as much as using grease instead of patentblacking； and then there was the beadle with his boy； and the boywas worst off； for in general he gets no notice taken of him； then；too； there was the good street sweeper with his cart； who turns overthe dust…bin； and calls it 'good； very good； remarkably good。' Andin the midst of the pleasure that was afforded by the mere meetingof these folks； there shot up out of the great dirt…heap at Amack astem； a tree； an immense flower； a great mushroom； a perfect roof；which formed a sort of warehouse for the worthy pany； for in ithung everything they had given to the world during the Old Year。 Outof the tree poured sparks like flames of fire； these were the ideasand thoughts； borrowed from others； which they had used； and which nowgot free and rushed away like so many fireworks。 They played at 'thestick burns；' and the young poets played at 'heart…burns；' and thewitlings played off their jests； and the jests rolled away with athundering sound； as if empty pots were being shattered against doors。'It was very amusing！' my niece said； in fact； she said many thingsthat were very malicious but very amusing； but I won't mention them；for a man must be good…natured； and not a carping critic。 But you willeasily perceive that when a man once knows the rights of the journeyto Amack； as I know them； it's quite natural that on the New Year'snight one should look out to see the wild chase go by。 If in the NewYear I miss certain persons who used to be there； I am sure tonotice others who are new arrivals； but this year I omitted takingmy look at the guests； I bowled away on the boulders； rolled backthrough millions of years； and saw the stones break loose high up inthe north； saw them drifting about on icebergs； long before Noah's arkwas constructed； saw them sink down to the bottom of the sea； andre…appear with a sand…bank； with that one that peered forth from theflood and said； 'This shall be Zealand！' I saw them bee thedwelling…place of birds that are unknown to us； and then bee theseat of wild chiefs of whom we know nothing； until with their axesthey cut their Runic signs into a few of these stones； which then cameinto the calendar of time。 But as for me； I had gone quite beyondall lapse of time； and had bee a cipher and a nothing。 Then threeor four beautiful falling stars came down； which cleared the air；and gave my thoughts another direction。 You know what a falling staris； do you not？ The learned men are not at all clear about it。 Ihave my own ideas about shooting stars； as the mon people in manyparts call them； and my idea is this： How often are silentthanksgivings offered up for one who has done a good and noble action！The thanks are often speechless； but they are not lost for all that。 Ithink these thanks are caught up； and the sunbeams bring the silent；hidden thankfulness over the head of the benefactor； and if it be awhole people that has been expressing its gratitude through a longlapse of time； the thankfulness appears as a nosegay of flowers； andat length falls in the form of a shooting star over the good man'sgrave。 I am always very much pleased when I see a shooting star；especially in the New Year's night； and then find out for whom th
