| At the merchant's they
were having a children's party; all the children who were attending
it had parents who were either rich or distinguished. The merchant
himself was wealthy and not without learning. He had graduated
from the university. His father had insisted upon it. That decent
and honest gentleman had started out in life as a cattle dealer;
he had made money and his son had understood how to turn it
into a fortune. The younger man had both intelligence and a
kind heart, but people did not mention these attributes as often
as they did his great wealth. |
Inde hos Grossererens
var stort Børneselskab, rige Folks Børn og fornemme Folks Børn;
Grossereren stod sig godt, var en Mand med Lærdom; han havde
engang taget Studenter-Examen, det blev han holdt til af sin
skikkelige Fader, der fra først af kun var Studepranger, men
ærlig og driftig! det havde givet Penge, dem Grossereren siden
fik til at voxe; Forstand havde han og Hjerte med, men om det
blev der mindre talt end om hans mange Penge. |
| People of distinction
gathered in his house. Some had noble blood, others noble spirits;
and a few had both, and a number had neither. But now there
was a children's party, and children have a habit of saying
what they think. There was a very beautiful little girl who
was terribly proud; the servants had kissed that pride into
her, for her parents were really very sensible people. Her father
was a Knight of the Royal Bedchamber and that, the little girl
knew, was something extraordinarily important. |
Der gik ud og ind hos
ham fornemme Folk, baade dem af Blod, som de kalde det, og dem
af Aand, som de kalde det, dem af begge Dele og dem af ingen
af Delene. Der var nu Børneselskab, Børnetale, og Børn tale
reent ud af Posen. Der var en yndig lille Pige, men saa gruelig
stolt, det havde Tjenestefolkene kysset i hende, ikke Forældrene,
dertil vare de alt for fornuftige; hendes Fader var Kammerjunker
og det er forfærdeligt Meget, vidste hun. |
| "I am a chamber child,"
she declared, although she could just as easily have been a
"cellar child," for, after all, we can't choose our parents.
She explained to the other children that she was "wellborn"
and that if one was not wellborn, then one couldn't become anything.
It didn't matter how hard one studied, it was being properly
"born" that counted. |
"Jeg er et Kammerbarn!"
sagde hun. Hun kunde nu ogsaa have været et Kjælderbarn, ligemeget
kan man selv gjøre for det; og saa fortalte hun de andre Børn,
at hun var "født!" og sagde, at naar man ikke var født saa kunde
man ikke blive til; det hjalp ikke at læse, at være nok saa
flittig, naar man ikke var født, saa kunde man ikke blive til. |
| "And as for those whose
names end in sen, there is no hope for them. Nothing
can ever become of them," she explained. "One has to put one's
hands on one's waist and keep these common people with their
sen, sen names at elbow's length." And to illustrate
what she meant, she put her pretty little hands on her waist
so that her elbows stuck out sharply. She looked very charming. |
"Og dem, hvis Navn ender
paa -sen," sagde hun, "dem kan der nu aldrig i Verden blive
Noget af! man skal sætte sine Arme i Siden og holde dem langt
borte fra sig, disse "-sen! -sen!" Og saa satte hun sine smaa,
nydelige Arme i Siden med Albuen spids, for at vise hvorledes
man skulde bære sig ad; og de smaa Arme vare saa nydelige. Sød
var hun. |
| But the merchant's daughter
got angry. Her father's name was Madsen, and that name, she
knew, ended with a sen; therefore she said as proudly
as she could: |
Men Grossererens lille
Datter blev saa vred; hendes Fader hedte Madsen og det Navn
vidste hun ender paa "-sen!" og saa sagde hun ligesaa stolt
hun kunde: |
| "My father can buy a
hundred silver marks' worth of candy and throw it in the street,
so all the poor children can scramble for it. Can your father
do that?" |
"Men min Fader kan kjøbe
for hundrede Rigsdaler Brystsukker og kaste i Grams! kan din
Fader det?" |
| "But my father," announced
the newspaper editor's daughter, "can put your father, and yours
too, and all the fathers in the whole town, in the newspaper.
And that is why everybody is frightened of him, so my mother
says. It is my father who rules the newspaper." |
"Ja, men min Fader,"
sagde en Skribents lille Datter, "kan sætte baade din Fader
og din Fader og alle "Fadere" i Avisen! Alle Mennesker ere bange
for ham, siger Moder, for det er min Fader, der regjerer i Avisen!" |
| And she held her head
high as if she were a proper princess with a father who ruled
a kingdom. |
Og den lille Pige kneisede
derved, ligesom om hun kunde være en virkelig Prindsesse, der
skal kneise. |
| Behind the door, which
stood ajar, was a poor little boy; he was looking in through
the crack. The little lad was much too poor to be permitted
to go to the party. He had been turning the spit for the cook,
and as a reward he had been allowed to stand behind the door
and watch the other children play; and he had been pleased to
have such a chance. |
Men udenfor den halvaabne
Dør stod og kigede ind af Sprækken en fattig Dreng. Den Lille
kunde ikke engang komme med ind i Stuen, saa ringe var han;
Spiddet havde han dreiet for Kokkepigen og nu faaet Lov at see
bag Døren ind til de stadselige Børn, som fornøiede sig, og
det var grumme Meget for ham. |
| "If only I were one
of them," he had thought while he listened to everything that
was being said; much of it was really not too pleasant for him
to hear. His parents never had so much as a copper to spare
and could not even afford to buy a newspaper, let alone write
in it. The worst of it all was that his father's name ended
in sen. Nothing could ever become of him! It was very
sad. But born he had been, and since he had never heard otherwise
he must have been wellborn, too, of that he felt certain. |
"Hvem der dog var Een
af dem!" tænkte han, og saa hørte han hvad der blev sagt, det
var rigtig nok til at blive meget mismodig over. Ikke en Skilling
havde Forældrene hjemme at lægge paa Kistebunden, og ikke havde
de Raad til at holde en Avis, end sige at skrive den, og saa
kom nu det allerværste til, hans Faders Navn, og altsaa ogsaa
hans Navn, endte aldeles paa "sen!" ham kunde der da aldrig
i Verden blive Noget af. Det var saa sørgeligt! dog født var
han, syntes han, rigtig født, det var ikke muligt Andet. |
| Now that was that evening. |
See, det var den Aften. |
| Years went by, and the
years made the children into grownups. |
Nu gik der hen mange
Aar og i dem blive Børn til voxne Mennesker. |
| In the center of Copenhagen
a palace had been built and it was filled with splendid treasures
that everyone wanted to see. People came from far and wide to
look at them. Now to which of the children whom we have described
did this palace belong? That ought to be an easy question to
answer, but it isn't. It belonged to the poor boy, the one who
had stood behind the door. Something had become of him: he was
a great sculptor, and the palace was a museum for his works.
It had not really mattered that his name ended with sen:
Thorvaldsen, whose marble statues stand in St. Peter's in Rome. |
Der stod i Byen et prægtigt
Huus, det var fuldt af Herligheder, alle Folk vilde see det,
selv Folk udenfor Byen kom ind for at see det, hvem monstro
af de Børn, vi have fortalt om, kunde kalde det Huus sit? Ja,
det er da let at vide! nei, det er ikke saa let endda. Det Huns
var den lille fattige Drengs; ham blev der dog Noget af, skjøndt
hans Navn endte paa "sen" - - Thorvaldsen. |
| What happened to the
other children: the offspring of good family, wealth, and intellectual
arrogance?--None of them could point a finger at any of the
others; they had all been equally silly.--They had become decent
and kind human beings, for they were, in truth, not evil. What
they had thought and said then had only been children's prattle. |
Og de tre andre Børn?
- Blodets, Pengenes og Aands-Hovmodets Børn, ja den Ene har
ikke at lade den Anden Noget høre, de ere lige Børn -, der blev
af dem alt Godt og Velsignet, der var en god Grund i dem; hvad
de dengang havde tænkt og talt var kun - Børnesnak. |
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