安徒生童话-第35章
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n I see a shooting star；especially in the New Year's night； and then find out for whom thegift of gratitude was intended。 Lately a gleaming star fell in thesouthwest； as a tribute of thanksgiving to many… many！ 'For whom wasthat star intended？' thought I。 It fell； no doubt； on the hill bythe Bay of Plensberg； where the Danebrog waves over the graves ofSchleppegrell； Lasloes； and their rades。 One star also fell inthe midst of the land； fell upon Soro； a flower on the grave ofHolberg； the thanks of the year from a great many … thanks for hischarming plays！
〃It is a great and pleasant thought to know that a shooting starfalls upon our graves。 On mine certainly none will fall… no sunbeambrings thanks to me； for here there is nothing worthy of thanks。 Ishall not get the patent lacquer；〃 said Ole； 〃for my fate on earthis only grease； after all。〃
SECOND VISIT
It was New Year's day； and I went up on the tower。 Ole spoke ofthe toasts that were drunk on the transition from the Old Year intothe New… from one grave into the other； as he said。 And he told me astory about the glasses； and this story had a very deep meaning。 Itwas this：
〃When on the New Year's night the clock strikes twelve； the peopleat the table rise up with full glasses in their hands； and drain theseglasses； and drink success to the New Year。 They begin the year withthe glass in their hands； that is a good beginning for drunkards。 Theybegin the New Year by going to bed； and that's a good beginning fordrones。 Sleep is sure to play a great part in the New Year； and theglass likewise。 Do you know what dwells in the glass？〃 asked Ole。 〃Iwill tell you。 There dwell in the glass； first； health； and thenpleasure； then the most plete sensual delight； and misfortune andthe bitterest woe dwell in the glass also。 Now； suppose we count theglasses… of course I count the different degrees in the glasses fordifferent people。
〃You see； the first glass； that's the glass of health； and in thatthe herb of health is found growing。 Put it up on the beam in theceiling； and at the end of the year you may be sitting in the arbor ofhealth。
〃If you take the second glass… from this a little bird soarsupward； twittering in guileless cheerfulness； so that a man may listento 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 cannotcertainly be called an angel child； for there is goblin blood in hisveins； and he has the spirit of a goblin… not wishing to hurt orharm you； indeed； but very ready to play off tricks upon you。 He'llsit at your ear and whisper merry thoughts to you； he'll creep intoyour heart and warm you； so that you grow very merry； and bee awit； so far as the wits of the others can judge。
〃In the fourth glass is neither herb； bird； nor urchin。 In thatglass is the pause drawn by reason； and one may never go beyond thatsign。
〃Take the fifth glass； and you will weep at yourself； you willfeel 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； niimes and extravagantly merry。 He'll draw you away with him； you'llforget your dignity； if you have any； and you'll forget more thanyou should or ought to forget。 All is dance； song and sound： the maskswill carry you away with them； and the daughters of vanity； clad insilk and satin； will e with loose hair and alluring charms； buttear yourself away if you can！
〃The sixth glass！ Yes； in that glass sits a demon； in the formof a little； well dressed； attractive and very fascinating man； whothoroughly understands you； agrees with you in everything； and beesquite a second self to you。 He has a lantern with him； to give youlight as he acpanies you home。 There is an old legend about a saintwho was allowed to choose one of the seven deadly sins； and whoaccordingly chose drunkenness； which appeared to him the least； butwhich led him to mit all the other six。 The man's blood ismingled with that of the demon。 It is the sixth glass； and with thatthe germ of all evil shoots up within us； and each one grows up with astrength like that of the grains of mustard…seed； and shoots up into atree； and spreads over the whole world： and most people have no choicebut to go into the oven； to be re…cast in a new form。
〃That's the history of the glasses；〃 said the tower…keeper Ole；〃and it can be told with lacquer or only with grease； but I give ityou with both！〃
THIRD VISIT
On this occasion I chose the general 〃moving…day〃 for my visitto Ole； for on that day it is anything but agreeable down in thestreets in the town； for they are full of sweepings； shreds； andremnants of all sorts； to say nothing of the cast…off rubbish in whichone has to wade about。 But this time I happened to see two childrenplaying in this wilderness of sweepings。 They were playing at 〃goingto bed；〃 for the occasion seemed especially favorable for thissport。 They crept under the straw； and drew an old bit of raggedcurtain over themselves by way of coverlet。 〃It was splendid！〃 theysaid； but it was a little too strong for me； and besides； I wasobliged to mount up on my visit to Ole。
〃It's moving…day to day；〃 he said； 〃streets and houses are likea dust…bin… a large dust…bin； but I'm content with a cartload。 I mayget something good out of that； and I really did get something goodout of it once。 Shortly after Christmas I was going up the street；it was rough weather； wet and dirty… the right kind of weather tocatch 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 ofthe cart stood a fir tree； quite green still； and with tinsel on itstwigs； it had been used on Christmas eve； and now it was thrown outinto the street； and the dustman had stood it up at the back of hiscart。 It was droll to look at； or you may say it was mournful… alldepends on what you think of when you see it； and I thought aboutit； and thought this and that of many things that were in the cart： orI might have done so； and that es to the same thing。 There was anold lady's glove； too： I wonder what that was thinking of？ Shall Itell you？ The glove was lying there； pointing with its little fingerat the tree。 'I'm sorry for the tree；' it thought； 'and I was alsoat the feast； where the chandeliers glittered。 My life was； so tospeak； a ball night… a pressure of the hand； and I burst！ My memorykeeps 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'sa stupid affair with yonder fir tree；' said the potsherds。 You see；potsherds think everything is stupid。 'When one is in thedust…cart；' they said； 'one ought not to give one's self airs and weartinsel。 I know that I have been useful in the world… far more usefulthan such a green stick。' This was a view that might be taken； and Idon't think it quite a peculiar one； but for all that； the fir treelooked very well： it was like a little poetry in the dust…heap； andtruly there is dust enough in the streets on moving…day。 The way isdifficult and troublesome then； and I feel obliged to run away outof the confusion； or； if I am on the tower； I stay there and lookdown； and it is amusing enough。
〃There are the good people below； playing at 'changing houses。'They toil and tug away with their goods and chattels； and thehousehold goblin sits in an old tub and moves with them。 All thelittle griefs of the lodging and the family； and the real cares andsorrows； move with them out of the old dwelling into the new； and whatgain is there for them or for us in the whole affair？ Yes； there waswritten long ago the good old maxim： 'Think on the great moving…day ofdeath！' That is a serious thought。 I hope it is not disagreeable toyou that I should have touched upon it？ Death is the most certainmessenger； after all； in spite of his various occupations。 Yes；Death is the omnibus conductor； and he is the passport writer； andhe countersigns our service…book； and he is director of the savingsbank of life。 Do you understand me？ All the deeds of our life； thegreat and the little alike； we put into this savings bank； and whenDeath calls with his omnibus； and we have to step in； and drive withhim into the land of eternity； then on the frontier he gives us ourservice…book as a pass。 As a provision for the journey； he takesthis or that good deed we have done； and lets it acpany us； andthis may be very pleasant or very terrific。 Nobody has ever escapedthe omnibus journey。 There is certainly a talk about one who was notallowed to go… they call him the Wandering Jew： he has to ridebehind the omnibus。 If he had been allowed to get in； he would haveescaped the clutches of the poets。
〃Just cast your mind's eye into that great omnibus。 The society ismixed； for king and beggar； genius and idiot； sit side by side。 Theymust go without their property and money； they have only theservice…book and the gift out of the savings bank with them。 But whichof our deeds is selected and given to us？ Perhaps quite a littleone； one that we have forgotten； but which has been recorded… small asa pea； but the pea can send out a blooming shoot。 The poor bumpkin whosat on a low stool in the corner； and was jee
