Page:The fairy tales of Hans Christian Andersen (c1899).djvu/290



ES, he was called Little Tuk—not that it was really his name, but he called himself so before he could speak plainly; he meant it for Charles, and it was all very well when one did but know it. Little Tuk was left to take care of his sister Gustave, who was much younger than himself; and at the same time he had to learn his lesson, only the two things could not very well be carried on simultaneously. The poor little fellow sat with his sister on his knee, and sang her all the songs he knew, while ever and anon he gave a look at his geography-book that lay open before him; for he had to get by heart the names of all the towns in Zealand, and to know all that could be known about them by the next morning.

His mother, who had been out, now came home, and took little Gustave in her arms; then Tuk ran to the window, and read and read so zealously, that he nearly read his eyes out, for it grew darker and darker; and his mother had no money to buy a light.

"There goes the old washerwoman, opposite, down the street," said the mother, looking out of window. "The poor woman can hardly drag herself along; and now she has to drag a bucket from the well into the bargain. Now, do just step over, Tuk, and help the old woman, there's a good boy."

And Tuk ran off and helped her; but when he returned it was quite dark in the room, and as there was no talk about having a candle, he was obliged to go to bed, and he lay in his old crib thinking of his geography lesson, and of Zealand, and of all the things his schoolmaster had told him. He need have read a good deal more, but this he could not do. So he placed the geography-book under his bolster, because he had heard that it was a great help towards learning one's lessons—though it must not be too much depended upon.

There he lay thinking and thinking—when it suddenly seemed to him as if some one kissed him on his mouth and eyes. He was asleep, and yet he was not; it was as if the old washerwoman looked at him with her mild eyes, saying: "It would be a sin, indeed, if you did not know your lesson early tomorrow morning! You helped me, and now I will help you, and the Almighty will always befriend you."

And the book began to move about like a live thing under Tuk's bolster.

"Cluck! cluck! cluck!" said a hen, creeping out of it, "I am a Kiöge hen." And then she told all about the little town of Kiöge, how many inhabitants it numbered; besides relating the battle that had taken place there between the English and the Danes, though it was scarcely worth mentioning.

Scratch! scratch! and down fell something with a heavy lump! It was a wooden bird,—the popinjay used as a shooting-mark at Prästöe. He had reckoned that the number of its inhabitants was equal to the nails in his body; so he was very proud. "Thorwaldsen lived close to me," said he; "and—lump!—here am I, all safe and sound!"

And now Little Tuk ceased to be lying down, and found himself on a horse.

Gallop! gallop! Away he went. A richly dressed warrior in a helmet with waving plume, held him before him on his horse, and they rode through the wood to the old city of Vordingborg; and a large, animated town it was: stately turrets surmounted the royal castle, and lights gleamed from all its windows; the sounds of music and dancing were heard from within, and King Waldemar was dancing with the richly-attired young ladies of his court.

Morning now dawned, and, with the rising sun, the whole town and the royal castle sank to ruins—one turret falling after another, till only one remained standing on the hill where the castle formerly reared its head; and the town had shrunk to such poverty and insignificance, that the