The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

Children's Prattle - Børnesnak

1859

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.

Copyright Anchor Books Doubleday
Hans Christian Andersen:
The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories

Translated from Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard

Copyright:
The Hans Christian Andersen Project