安徒生童话- 第192部分

〃It　was　sunshine　here　yesterday；〃　said　the　little　bird；　〃butto…day　it　is　cloudy　and　the　air　is　close。〃

〃You　know　very　little　about　the　weather；　I　fancy；〃　she　retorted；〃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　Ifell　into　the　yard　yesterday。〃

〃Impertinent　creature！〃　exclaimed　the　Portuguese　duck：　〃wouldyou　pare　me　with　the　cat…　that　beast　of　prey？　There's　not　a　drop　ofmalicious　blood　in　me。　I've　taken　your　part；　and　now　I'll　teach　youbetter　manners。〃　So　saying；　she　made　a　bite　at　the　littlesinging…bird's　head；　and　he　fell　dead　on　the　ground。　〃Now　whateveris　the　meaning　of　this？〃　〃she　said；　〃could　he　not　bear　even　such　alittle　peck　as　I　gave　him？　Then　certainly　he　was　not　made　for　thisworld。　I've　been　like　a　mother　to　him；　I　know　that；　for　I've　a　goodheart。〃

Then　the　cock　from　the　neighboring　yard　stuck　his　head　in；　andcrowed　with　steam…engine　power。

〃You'll　kill　me　with　your　crowing；〃　she　cried；　〃it's　all　yourfault。　He's　lost　his　life；　and　I'm　very　near　losing　mine。〃

〃There's　not　much　of　him　lying　there；〃　observed　the　cock。

〃Speak　of　him　with　respect；〃　said　the　Portuguese　duck；　〃for　he　hadmanners　and　education；　and　he　could　sing。　He　was　affectionate　andgentle；　and　that　is　as　rare　a　quality　in　animals　as　in　those　whocall　themselves　human　beings。〃

Then　all　the　ducks　came　crowding　round　the　little　dead　bird。　Duckshave　strong　passions；　whether　they　feel　envy　or　pity。　There　wasnothing　to　envy　here；　so　they　all　showed　a　great　deal　of　pity；　eventhe　two　Chinese。　〃We　shall　never　have　another　singing…bird　againamongst　us；　he　was　almost　a　Chinese；〃　they　whispered；　and　then　theywept　with　such　a　noisy；　clucking　sound；　that　all　the　other　fowlsclucked　too；　but　the　ducks　went　about　with　redder　eyes　afterwards。　〃Wehave　hearts　of　our　own；〃　they　said；　〃nobody　can　deny　that。〃

〃Hearts！〃　repeated　the　Portuguese；　〃indeed　you　have；　almost　astender　as　the　ducks　in　Portugal。〃

〃Let　us　think　of　getting　something　to　satisfy　our　hunger；〃　saidthe　drake；　that's　the　most　important　business。　If　one　of　our　toys　isbroken；　why　we　have　plenty　more。〃

THE　END。

　　1872

　FAIRY　TALES　OF　HANS　CHRISTIAN　ANDERSEN

THE　PRINCESS　AND　THE　PEA

　　　by　Hans　Christian　Andersen

ONCE　upon　a　time　there　was　a　prince　who　wanted　to　marry　aprincess；　but　she　would　have　to　be　a　real　princess。　He　travelled　allover　the　world　to　find　one；　but　nowhere　could　he　get　what　he　wanted。There　were　princesses　enough；　but　it　was　difficult　to　find　out　whetherthey　were　real　ones。　There　was　always　something　about　them　that　wasnot　as　it　should　be。　So　he　came　home　again　and　was　sad；　for　he　wouldhave　liked　very　much　to　have　a　real　princess。

One　evening　a　terrible　storm　came　on；　there　was　thunder　andlightning；　and　the　rain　poured　down　in　torrents。　Suddenly　a　knockingwas　heard　at　the　city　gate；　and　the　old　king　went　to　open　it。

It　was　a　princess　standing　out　there　in　front　of　the　gate。　But；good　gracious！　what　a　sight　the　rain　and　the　wind　had　made　her　look。The　water　ran　down　from　her　hair　and　clothes；　it　ran　down　into　thetoes　of　her　shoes　and　out　again　at　the　heels。　And　yet　she　said　thatshe　was　a　real　princess。

〃Well；　we'll　soon　find　that　out；〃　thought　the　old　queen。　But　shesaid　nothing；　went　into　the　bed…room；　took　all　the　bedding　off　thebedstead；　and　laid　a　pea　on　the　bottom；　then　she　took　twentymattresses　and　laid　them　on　the　pea；　and　then　twenty　eider…down　bedson　top　of　the　mattresses。

On　this　the　princess　had　to　lie　all　night。　In　the　morning　shewas　asked　how　she　had　slept。

〃Oh；　very　badly！〃　said　she。　〃I　have　scarcely　closed　my　eyes　allnight。　Heaven　only　knows　what　was　in　the　bed；　but　I　was　lying　onsomething　hard；　so　that　I　am　black　and　blue　all　over　my　body。　It'shorrible！〃

Now　they　knew　that　she　was　a　real　princess　because　she　had　feltthe　pea　right　through　the　twenty　mattresses　and　the　twentyeider…down　beds。

Nobody　but　a　real　princess　could　be　as　sensitive　as　that。

So　the　prince　took　her　for　his　wife；　for　now　he　knew　that　he　had　areal　princess；　and　the　pea　was　put　in　the　museum；　where　it　may　stillbe　seen；　if　no　one　has　stolen　it。

There；　that　is　a　true　story。

THE　END。

　　1872

　FAIRY　TALES　OF　HANS　CHRISTIAN　ANDERSEN

　　　THE　PSYCHE

　　　by　Hans　Christian　Andersen

IN　the　fresh　morning　dawn；　in　the　rosy　air　gleams　a　great　Star；the　brightest　Star　of　the　morning。　His　rays　tremble　on　the　white　wall；as　if　he　wished　to　write　down　on　it　what　he　can　tell；　what　he　has　seenthere　and　elsewhere　during　thousands　of　years　in　our　rolling　world。Let　us　hear　one　of　his　stories。

〃A　short　time　ago〃…　the　Star's　〃short　time　ago〃　is　called　amongmen　〃centuries　ago〃…　〃my　rays　followed　a　young　artist。　It　was　in　thecity　of　the　Popes；　in　the　world…city；　Rome。　Much　has　been　changedthere　in　the　course　of　time；　but　the　changes　have　not　e　soquickly　as　the　change　from　youth　to　old　age。　Then　already　the　palaceof　the　Caesars　was　a　ruin；　as　it　is　now；　fig　trees　and　laurels　grewamong　the　fallen　marble　columns；　and　in　the　desolate　bathing…halls；where　the　gilding　still　clings　to　the　wall；　the　Coliseum　was　agigantic　ruin；　the　church　bells　sounded；　the　incense　sent　up　itsfragrant　cloud；　and　through　the　streets　marched　processions　withflaming　tapers　and　glowing　canopies。　Holy　Church　was　there；　and　artwas　held　as　a　high　and　holy　thing。　In　Rome　lived　the　greatestpainter　in　the　world；　Raphael；　there　also　dwelt　the　first　ofsculptors；　Michael　Angelo。　Even　the　Pope　paid　homage　to　these　two；　andhonored　them　with　a　visit。　Art　was　recognized　and　honored；　and　wasrewarded　also。　But；　for　all　that；　everything　great　and　splendid　wasnot　seen　and　known。

〃In　a　narrow　lane　stood　an　old　house。　Once　it　had　been　a　temple；　ayoung　sculptor　now　dwelt　there。　He　was　young　and　quite　unknown。　Hecertainly　had　friends；　young　artists；　like　himself；　young　in　spirit；young　in　hopes　and　thoughts；　they　told　him　he　was　rich　in　talent；and　an　artist；　but　that　he　was　foolish　for　having　no　faith　in　hisown　power；　for　he　always　broke　what　he　had　fashioned　out　of　clay；and　never　pleted　anything；　and　a　work　must　be　pleted　if　it　is　tobe　seen　and　to　bring　money。

〃'You　are　a　dreamer；'　they　went　on　to　say　to　him；　'and　that's　yourmisfortune。　But　the　reason　of　this　is；　that　you　have　never　lived；you　have　never　tasted　life；　you　have　never　enjoyed　it　in　greatwholesome　draughts；　as　it　ought　to　be　enjoyed。　In　youth　one　mustmingle　one's　own　personality　with　life；　that　they　may　bee　one。　Lookat　the　great　master　Raphael；　whom　the　Pope　honors　and　the　worldadmires。　He's　no　despiser　of　wine　and　bread。'

〃'And　he　even　appreciates　the　baker's　daughter；　the　prettyFornarina；'　added　Angelo；　one　of　the　merriest　of　the　young　friends。

〃Yes；　they　said　a　good　many　things　of　the　kind；　according　to　theirage　and　their　reason。　They　wanted　to　draw　the　young　artist　out　withthem　into　the　merry　wild　life；　the　mad　life　as　it　might　also　becalled；　and　at　certain　times　he　felt　an　inclination　for　it。　He　hadwarm　blood；　a　strong　imagination；　and　could　take　part　in　the　merrychat；　and　laugh　aloud　with　the　rest；　but　what　they　called　'Raphael'smerry　life'　disappeared　before　him　like　a　vapor　when　he　saw　the　divineradiance　that　beamed　forth　from　the　pictures　of　the