安徒生童话-第68章

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nyadvantages　over　mankind。〃

〃But　they　have　learned　swimming　of　us；〃　remarked　a　well…educatedCodling。　〃You　must　know　I　e　from　the　great　sea　outside。　In　thehot　time　of　the　year　the　people　yonder　go　into　the　water；　first　theytake　off　their　scales；　and　then　they　swim。　They　have　learnt　from　thefrogs　to　kick　out　with　their　hind　legs；　and　row　with　their　forepaws。　But　they　cannot　hold　out　long。　They　want　to　be　like　us；　but　theycannot　e　up　to　us。　Poor　people！〃

And　the　fishes　stared。　They　thought　that　the　whole　swarm　of　peoplewhom　they　had　seen　in　the　bright　daylight　were　still　moving　aroundthem；　they　were　certain　they　still　saw　the　same　forms　that　had　firstcaught　their　attention。

A　pretty　Barbel；　with　spotted　skin；　and　an　enviably　round　back；declared　that　the　〃human　fry〃　were　still　there。

〃I　can　see　a　well　set…up　human　figure　quite　well；〃　said　theBarbel。　〃She　was　called　'contumacious　lady；'　or　something　of　thatkind。　She　had　a　mouth　and　staring　eyes；　like　ours；　and　a　great　balloonat　the　back　of　her　head；　and　something　like　a　shut…up　umbrella　infront；　there　were　a　lot　of　dangling　bits　of　seaweed　hanging　about　her。She　ought　to　take　all　the　rubbish　off；　and　go　as　we　do；　then　she　wouldlook　something　like　a　respectable　barbel；　so　far　as　it　is　possible　fora　person　to　look　like　one！〃

〃What's　bee　of　that　one　whom　they　drew　away　with　the　hook？　Hesat　on　a　wheel…chair；　and　had　paper；　and　pen；　and　ink；　and　wrotedown　everything。　They　called　him　a　'writer。'〃

〃They're　going　about　with　him　still；〃　said　a　hoary　old　maid　of　aCarp；　who　carried　her　misfortune　about　with　her；　so　that　she　was　quitehoarse。　In　her　youth　she　had　once　swallowed　a　hook；　and　still　swampatiently　about　with　it　in　her　gullet。　〃A　writer？　That　means；　as　wefishes　describe　it；　a　kind　of　cuttle　or　ink…fish　among　men。〃

Thus　the　fishes　gossipped　in　their　own　way；　but　in　theartificial　water…grotto　the　laborers　were　busy；　who　were　obliged　totake　advantage　of　the　hours　of　night　to　get　their　work　done　bydaybreak。　They　acpanied　with　blows　of　their　hammers　and　withsongs　the　parting　words　of　the　vanishing　Dryad。

〃So；　at　any　rate；　I　have　seen　you；　you　pretty　gold…fishes；〃　shesaid。　〃Yes；　I　know　you；〃　and　she　waved　her　hand　to　them。　〃I　have　knownabout　you　a　long　time　in　my　home；　the　swallow　told　me　about　you。　Howbeautiful　you　are！　how　delicate　and　shining！　I　should　like　to　kissevery　one　of　you。　You　others；　also。　I　know　you　all；　but　you　do　notknow　me。〃

The　fishes　stared　out　into　the　twilight。　They　did　not　understand　aword　of　it。

The　Dryad　was　there　no　longer。　She　had　been　a　long　time　in　theopen　air；　where　the　different　countries…　the　country　of　black　bread；the　codfish　coast；　the　kingdom　of　Russia　leather；　and　the　banks　ofeau…de…Cologne；　and　the　gardens　of　rose　oil…　exhaled　their　perfumesfrom　the　world…wonder　flower。

When；　after　a　night　at　a　ball；　we　drive　home　half　asleep　andhalf　awake；　the　melodies　still　sound　plainly　in　our　ears；　we　hearthem；　and　could　sing　them　all　from　memory。　When　the　eye　of　themurdered　man　closes；　the　picture　of　what　it　saw　last　clings　to　itfor　a　time　like　a　photographic　picture。

So　it　was　likewise　here。　The　bustling　life　of　day　had　not　yetdisappeared　in　the　quiet　night。　The　Dryad　had　seen　it；　she　knew；thus　it　will　be　repeated　tomorrow。

The　Dryad　stood　among　the　fragrant　roses；　and　thought　she　knewthem；　and　had　seen　them　in　her　own　home。　She　also　saw　redpomegranate　flowers；　like　those　that　little　Mary　had　worn　in　herdark　hair。

Remembrances　from　the　home　of　her　childhood　flashed　through　herthoughts；　her　eyes　eagerly　drank　in　the　prospect　around；　andfeverish　restlessness　chased　her　through　the　wonder…filled　halls。

A　weariness　that　increased　continually；　took　possession　of　her。She　felt　a　longing　to　rest　on　the　soft　Oriental　carpets　within；　orto　lean　against　the　weeping　willow　without　by　the　clear　water。　But　forthe　ephemeral　fly　there　was　no　rest。　In　a　few　moments　the　day　hadpleted　its　circle。

Her　thoughts　trembled；　her　limbs　trembled；　she　sank　down　on　thegrass　by　the　bubbling　water。

〃Thou　wilt　ever　spring　living　from　the　earth；〃　she　saidmournfully。　〃Moisten　my　tongue…　bring　me　a　refreshing　draught。〃

〃I　am　no　living　water；〃　was　the　answer。　〃I　only　spring　upward　whenthe　machine　wills　it。〃

〃Give　me　something　of　thy　freshness；　thou　green　grass；〃　imploredthe　Dryad；　〃give　me　one　of　thy　fragrant　flowers。〃

〃We　must　die　if　we　are　torn　from　our　stalks；〃　replied　theFlowers　and　the　Grass。

〃Give　me　a　kiss；　thou　fresh　stream　of　air…　only　a　singlelife…kiss。〃

〃Soon　the　sun　will　kiss　the　clouds　red；〃　answered　the　Wind；〃then　thou　wilt　be　among　the　dead…　blown　away；　as　all　the　splendorhere　will　be　blown　away　before　the　year　shall　have　ended。　Then　I　canplay　again　with　the　light　loose　sand　on　the　place　here；　and　whirlthe　dust　over　the　land　and　through　the　air。　All　is　dust！〃

The　Dryad　felt　a　terror　like　a　woman　who　has　cut　asunder　herpulse…artery　in　the　bath；　but　is　filled　again　with　the　love　of　life；even　while　she　is　bleeding　to　death。　She　raised　herself；　totteredforward　a　few　steps；　and　sank　down　again　at　the　entrance　to　a　littlechurch。　The　gate　stood　open；　lights　were　burning　upon　the　altar；　andthe　organ　sounded。

What　music！　Such　notes　the　Dryad　had　never　yet　heard；　and　yet　itseemed　to　her　as　if　she　recognized　a　number　of　well…known　voices　amongthem。　They　came　deep　from　the　heart　of　all　creation。　She　thought　sheheard　the　stories　of　the　old　clergyman；　of　great　deeds；　and　of　thecelebrated　names；　and　of　the　gifts　that　the　creatures　of　God　mustbestow　upon　posterity；　if　they　would　live　on　in　the　world。

The　tones　of　the　organ　swelled；　and　in　their　song　there　soundedthese　words：

〃Thy　wishing　and　thy　longing　have　torn　thee；　with　thy　roots；from　the　place　which　God　appointed　for　thee。　That　was　thy　destruction；thou　poor　Dryad！〃

The　notes　became　soft　and　gentle；　and　seemed　to　die　away　in　awail。

In　the　sky　the　clouds　showed　themselves　with　a　ruddy　gleam。　TheWind　sighed：

〃Pass　away；　ye　dead！　now　the　sun　is　going　to　rise！〃

The　first　ray　fell　on　the　Dryad。　Her　form　was　irradiated　inchanging　colors；　like　the　soap…bubble　when　it　is　bursting　andbees　a　drop　of　water；　like　a　tear　that　falls　and　passes　away　like　avapor。

Poor　Dryad！　Only　a　dew…drop；　only　a　tear；　poured　upon　the　earth；and　vanished　away！

THE　END。

　　1872

　FAIRY　TALES　OF　HANS　CHRISTIAN　ANDERSEN

　THE　DUMB　BOOK

　　　by　Hans　Christian　Andersen

IN　the　high…road　which　led　through　a　wood　stood　a　solitaryfarm…house；　the　road；　in　fact；　ran　right　through　its　yard。　The　sun　wasshining　and　all　the　windows　were　open；　within　the　house　people　werevery　busy。　In　the　yard；　in　an　arbour　formed　by　lilac　bushes　in　fullbloom；　stood　an　open　coffin；　thither　they　had　carried　a　dead　man；who　was　to　be　buried　that　very　afternoon。　Nobody　shed　a　tear　over　him；his　face　was　covered　over　with　a　white　cloth；　under　his　head　theyhad　placed　a　large　thick　book；　the　leaves　of　which　consisted　of　foldedsheets　of　blotting…paper；　and　withered　flowers　lay　between　them；　itwas　the　herbarium　which　he　had　gathered　in　various　places　and　was　tobe　buried　with　him；　according　to　his　own　wish。　Every　one　of　theflowers　in　it　was　connected　with　some　chapter　of　his　life。

〃Who　is　the　dead　man？〃　we　asked。

〃The　old　student；〃　was　the　reply。　〃They　say　that　he　was　once　anenergetic　young　man；　that　he　studied　the　dead　languages；　and　sangand　even　posed　many　songs；　then　something　had　happened　to　him；and　in　consequence　of　this　he　gave　himself　up　to　drink；　body　and　mind。When　at　last　he　had　ruined　his　health；　they　brought　him　into　thecountry；　where　someone　paid　for　his　board　and　residence。　He　was　gentleas　a　child　as　long　as　the　sullen　mood　did　not　e　over　him；　butwhen　it　came　he　was　fierce；　became　as　strong　as　a　giant；　and　ran　aboutin　the　wood　like　a　chased　deer。　But　when　we　succeeded　in　bringinghim　home；　and　prevailed　upon　him　to　open　the　book　with　the　dried…upplants　in　it；　he　would　sometimes　sit　for　a　whole　day　looking　at　thisor　that　plant；　while　frequently　the　tears　rolled　over　his　cheeks。God　knows　what　was　in　his　mind；　but　he　requested　us　to　put　the　bookinto　his　coffin；　and　now　he　lies　there。　In　a　little　while　the　lid　willbe　placed　upon　the　coffin；　and　he　will　have　sweet　rest　in　the　grave！〃

The　cloth　which　covered　his　face　was　lifted　up；　the　dead　man'sface　expressed　peace…　a　sunbeam　fell　upon　it。　A　swallow　flew　withthe　swiftness　of　an　arrow　into　the　arbour；　turning　in　its　flight；and　twittered　over　the　dead　man's　head。

What　a　strange　feeling　it　is…　surely　we　all　know　it…　to　lookthrough　old　letters　of　our　young　days；　a　different　life　rises　up　outof　the　past；　as　it　were；　with　all　its　hopes　and　sorrows。　How　many　ofthe　people　with　whom　in　those　days　we　used　to　be　on　intimate　termsappear　to　us　as　if　dead；　and　yet　they　are　still　alive…　only　we　havenot　thought　of　them　for　such　a　long　time；　whom　we　imagined　we　shouldretain　in　our　memories　for　ever；　and　share　every　joy　and　sorrow　withthem。

The　withered　oak　leaf　in　the　book　here　recalled　the　friend；　theschoolfellow；　who　was　to　be　his　friend　for　life。　He　fixed　the　leafto　the　student's　cap　in　the　green　wood；　when　they　vowed　eternalfriendship。　Where　does　he　dwell　now？　The　leaf　is　kept；　but　thefriendship　does　no　longer　exist。　Here　is　a　foreign　hothouse　plant；　tootender　for　the　gard