The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

The Collar - Flipperne

1848

Once upon a time there was a fine gentleman whose only worldly possessions were a bootjack, a comb, and a loose collar; but that was such a fine one that it would have enhanced the best shirt in the world; and this story is about the collar. He was old enough to begin thinking about marriage when, by chance, he found himself being washed in the same tub as a lady's garter. Der var en Gang en fiin Cavaleer, hvis hele Bohave var en Støvleknægt og en Redekam, men han havde de deiligste Flipper i Verden og det er om Flipperne vi skulle høre en Historie. - De vare nu saa gamle at de tænkte paa at gifte sig, og saa traf det at de kom i Vadsk med et Strømpebaand.
"Ah," sighed the collar. "Never have I met anyone so soft and dainty, with so slender and lovely a figure. May I ask your name?" "Nei!" sagde Flipperne, "nu har jeg aldrig seet nogen saa slank og saa fiin, saa blød og saa nysselig. Maa jeg ikke spørge om deres Navn?"
"I won't tell you," snapped the garter. "Det siger jeg ikke!" sagde Strømpebaandet.
"Where exactly do you . . . belong?" asked the collar. "Hvor hører de hjemme?" spurgte Flipperne.
The garter, who was by nature shy, found the question indiscreet and didn't answer. Men Strømpebaandet var saa undseelig af sig og syntes at det var noget underligt at svare paa.
"I think you must be a kind of waistband," continued the collar. "Something that is worn on the inside. I see that you are both useful and decorative, Miss . . . Miss . . ." "De er nok Livbaand!" sagde Flipperne, "saadan indvortes Livbaand! jeg seer nok de er baade til Nytte og Stads, lille Jomfru!"
"Please don't talk to me!" said the garter. "I have given you neither cause nor permission to do so." "De maa ikke tale til mig!" sagde Strømpebaandet, "jeg synes jeg har slet ikke givet Anledning!"
"Your beauty is cause enough and gives its own permission," replied the collar, who thought himself not only gallant but also witty. "Jo, naar man er saa deilig som de!" sagde Flipperne, "det er Anledning nok!"
"Don't come near Me!" screamed the garter. "There is something... something masculine about you." "Lad være at komme mig saa nær!" sagde Strømpebaandet. "De seer saa mandfolkeagtig ud!"
"I am a gentleman. I own both a bootjack and a comb," boasted the collar, but he was lying: the comb and bootjack belonged to his master. "Jeg er ogsaa fiin Cavaleer!" sagde Flipperne, "jeg har Støvleknægt og Redekam!" og det var nu ikke sandt, det var jo hans Herre, der havde dem, men han pralede.
"Don't come near me!" moaned the garter. "I am not used to such treatment." "Kom mig ikke nær!" sagde Strømpebaandet, "det er jeg ikke vant til!"
"Prude!" snapped the collar. Just at that moment he was taken out of the tub; then he was starched and hung over a chair out in the sunshine. A little bit later he was taken in and put on an ironing board. "Snærpe!" sagde Flipperne og saa blev de tagne af Vadsken; de fik Stivelse, hang paa Stolen i Solskin og blev saa lagt paa Strygebrædt; der kom det varme Jern.
"Madam," began the collar as soon as he saw the warm iron, "I assume that you are a widow. The very sight of you makes me warm, and all my wrinkles disappear. Be careful not to burn a hole in me. . . . Please, will you marry me?" "Frue!" sagde Flipperne, "lille Enkefrue! jeg bliver ganske varm! jeg bliver en anden En, jeg kommer reent ud af Folderne, de brænder Hul i mig! uh! - Jeg frier til dem!"
"Rag!" snarled the iron as it passed proudly over the collar, imagining that it was a steam engine drawing a whole string of railway cars behind it. "Las!" sagde Strygejernet og gik stolt hen over Flipperne; for det bildte sig ind det var en Dampkjædel, der skulde ud paa Jernbanen og trække Vogne.
"Rag!" repeated the iron on its return journey. "Las!" sagde det.
The collar was found to be just a little frayed on the edges and the maid took a pair of scissors to cut off the few loose threads. Flipperne flossede lidt i Kanterne, og saa kom Papirs-Saxen og skulde klippe Flosset af.
"Oh!" exclaimed the collar when he saw the scissors. "You must be a prima ballerina. What leg movement! Never have I seen anything so elegant; no human being could surpass you!" "0!" sagde Flipperne! "de er nok første Dandserinde! hvor de kan strække Been! det er det Yndigste jeg har seet! det kan intet Menneske gjøre dem efter!"
"I know that," said the scissors. "Det veed jeg!" sagde Saxen.
"You deserve to be a countess!" declared the collar. "All I have is a bootjack, a comb, and a gentleman to wait upon me; I wish I were a count!" "De fortjente at være Grevinde!" sagde Flipperne, "Alt hvad jeg har, er en fiin Cavaleer, en Støvleknægt og en Redekam-! bare jeg havde Grevskab!"
"Is he proposing?" snarled the scissors; she was angry, so she really cut the collar and then it was spoiled. "Frier han!" sagde Saxen, for den blev vred og saa gav den ham et ordenligt Klip, og saa var han kasseret.
"I suppose I'd better propose to the comb!" thought the collar, and said, "How pretty your teeth look, miss, and you have not lost one of them. Tell me, have you never thought of marriage?" "Jeg maa nok frie til Redekammen! Det er mærkeligt hvor de beholder alle deres Tænder lille Frøken!" sagde Flipperne. "Har de aldrig tænkt paa Forlovelse!"
"Didn't you know," said the comb, and blushed, "that I am engaged to the bootjack?" "Jo det kan de vel nok vide!" sagde Redekammen, "jeg er jo forlovet med Støvleknægten!"
"Engaged indeed!" sneered the collar. Now that there was no one to propose to, he had decided to become a cynic. "Forlovet!" sagde Flipperne; nu var der ingen flere at frie til og saa foragtede han det.
Time passed and finally the collar ended in the rag pile of the paper mill. There was a big rag party, and the fine linen stayed in one bunch and the coarse in another, as is the custom in this world. All the rags liked to talk and had a lot to tell, but the collar talked more than anyone else because he so loved to brag. En lang Tid gik, saa kom Flipperne i Kasse hos Papirmølleren; der var stort Klude-Selskab, de fine for sig, de grove for sig, saaledes som det skal være. De havde alle meget at fortælle, men Flipperne mest, det var en ordenlig Pralhans.
"I have had so many sweethearts! Women couldn't leave me alone! But then, I was a gentleman and so well starched. I had both a comb and a bootjack though I never used either of them. You should have seen me then, when I was buttoned and lying on my side. I shall never forget my first fiancee. She was a waistband: so soft, so refined and beautiful, I was the cause of her death; she drowned herself in a washtub for my sake. Then there was the widow, she was red hot with passion but I abandoned her. My wound, which you can still see, was given me by a prima ballerina; she was infatuated and fierce. My own comb loved me. She lost all of her teeth because of it--I believe she cried them out. Oh yes, I have lived! And I have a great deal on my conscience. But what troubles me most is to think of the garter--I mean the waistband--and her unhappy end in the washtub. I deserve to be made into paper, that will atone for it." "Jeg har havt saa frygtelig mange Kjærester!" sagde Flipperne, "jeg kunde ikke gaae i Ro! jeg var nu ogsaa fiin Cavaleer, med Stivelse! jeg havde baade Støvleknægt og Redekam, som jeg aldrig brugte! - de skulde have seet mig den Gang, seet mig naar jeg laae paa Siden! Aldrig glemmer jeg min første Kjæreste, hun var Livbaand, saa fiin, saa blød og saa nydelig, hun styrtede sig i en Vandballe for min Skyld! - Der var ogsaa en Enkefrue, som blev gloende, men jeg lod hende staae og blive sort! Der var den første Dandserinde, hun gav mig den Flænge jeg nu gaaer med, hun var saa glubsk! min egen Redekam var forliebt i mig, hun tabte alle sine Tænder af Kjærestesorg. Ja jeg har oplevet meget af den Slags! men det gjør mig meest ondt for Strømpebaandet, -jeg mener Livbaandet der gik i Vandballen. Jeg har meget paa min Samvittighed, jeg kan trænge til at blive til hvidt Papir!"
All the rags were made into paper, but the collar became the particular piece of paper that this story is printed on. This was his punishment for having bragged so much and told so many lies. The collar's fate is worth remembering. How can you be sure that you won't end in the rag pile, be made into paper, and have your whole life's story--even the most intimate and secret parts--printed on you; and then, like the rag, have to run around the world telling everyone about it? Og det blev de, alle Kludene bleve hvidt Papir, men Flipperne bleve netop til dette Stykke hvide Papir vi her see, hvorpaa Historien er trykt, og det var fordi at de pralede saa frygteligt bagefter af hvad der aldrig havde været; og det skal vi tænke paa, at vi ikke bære os ligesaadan ad, for vi kunne saamæn aldrig vide, om vi ikke ogsaa engang komme i Klude-Kassen og blive gjort til hvidt Papir og faae vor hele Historie trykt for paa, selv den allerhemmeligste og maa saa selv løbe om og fortælle den, ligesom Flipperne.

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