Page:Fairy tales and stories (Andersen, Tegner).djvu/120

88 The hearse and the procession had just passed, the street was empty, and aunty wanted to go away from the window, but I did not want to; I was waiting for the angel, Rasmussen the brewer; for had n't he now become one of God's bewinged children, and would n't he appear now?

"Aunty," I said, "don't you think he will come now? Or, when the stork again brings us a little brother, won't he then bring us the angel Rasmussen?"

Aunty was quite overwhelmed by my flight of imagination, and said: "That child will become a great poet!" And this she kept on repeating all the time I went to school, and even after I was confirmed and had become a student.

She was, and is, to me the most sympathetic of friends, both in my poetical and dental troubles, for I have attacks of both.

"Only write down your ideas," she said, "and put them in the table drawer! That 's what Jean Paul did; he became a great poet, though I don't admire him; he does not excite one. You must be exciting, and I know you will!"

During the night I lay awake, full of longings and anguish, full of desire and anxiety to become the great poet that aunty saw and perceived in me; I went through all the agonies of a poet! But there is a still greater agony—toothache; it was grinding and crushing me, and I became a writhing worm, with a poultice of sweet herbs and mustard plaster round my face.

"I know all about it," said aunty. There was a sorrowful smile on her lips, and her white teeth glistened.

But I must begin a new chapter in my own and my aunt's history.

III

I had removed to new lodgings, where I had been living a month. I was telling aunty about them.

I live with a quiet family; they do not trouble themselves about me, even if I ring three times. Otherwise it is a noisy house, full of sounds and disturbances caused by the weather, the wind, and the people. I live just over the gateway; every cart that drives out or in makes the pictures on the walls move to and fro. The gate bangs and shakes the whole house, as if there was an earthquake. If I am in bed the shocks go right through all my limbs, but they say that is strengthening to the nerves. If it blows, and it is always blowing in our country, the long window-hooks outside swing to and fro, and strike against the wall. The bell in the neighbor's yard rings with every gust of wind.