| There once was a proper
student; he lived in a garret and didn't own a thing. There
once was a proper grocer; he lived on the first floor and owned
the whole house. Now the pixy stayed with the grocer, for there
on Christmas Eve he was given a whole bowlful of porridge with
a lump of butter in it. That the grocer could afford, therefore
the pixy lived in his store, and from that a moral can be drawn. |
Der var en rigtig Student,
han boede paa Qvisten og eiede Ingenting; der var en rigtig
Spekhøker, han boede i Stuen og eiede hele Huset, og ham holdt
Nissen sig til, for her fik han hver Juleaften et Fad Grød med
en stor Klump Smør i! det kunde Spekhøkeren give; og Nissen
blev i Boutiken og det var meget lærerigt. |
| One evening the student
came knocking on the grocer's back door. He needed a candle
and a piece of cheese for his supper; and he was, as usual,
his own errand boy. He was given his wares and paid for them.
The grocer wished him good evening and the grocer's wife gave
him a friendly nod, though she was a woman who could do more
than nod her head: she could talk anyone's ear off. The student
nodded back and would have gone, had he not started reading
what was written on the paper that the cheese had been wrapped
in. It was a page torn from an old book of poetry that deserved
a better fate than to be used as wrapping paper. |
En Aften kom Studenten
ind fra Bagdøren for selv at kjøbe sig Lys og Ost; han havde
Ingen at sende, og saa gik han selv; han fik hvad han forlangte,
han betalte det og der blev nikket "god Aften" af Spekhøkeren
og af Madammen, og det var en Kone, som kunde mere, end nikke,
hun havde Talegaver! - og Studenten nikkede igjen og blev saa
staaende midt i Læsningen af det Blad Papir, der var lagt om
Osten. Det var et Blad, revet ud af en gammel Bog, der ikke
burde rives istykker, en gammel Bog, fuld af Poesi. |
| "Most of the pages of
that book are still here," said the grocer. "I gave an old woman
some coffee beans for it; you can have the rest for eight pennies.
|
"Der ligger meer af
den!" sagde Spekhøkeren, "jeg gav en gammel Kone nogle Caffebønner
for den; vil De give mig otte Skilling, skal De have Resten!" |
| "Thank you," replied
the student. "Let me have what is left of the book instead of
the cheese, I can eat plain bread for supper. It would be a
pity if all of it were torn to pieces. You are a splendid person,
a practical man, but you have no more idea of what poetry is
than that old barrel over there." |
"Tak," sagde Studenten,
"lad mig faae den istedetfor Osten! jeg kan spise Smørrebrødet
bart! syndigt var det, om hele den Bog skulde rives i Stumper
og Stykker. De er en prægtig Mand, en practisk Mand, men Poesi
forstaaer De Dem ikke mere paa, end den Bøtte!" |
| Now that was not a very
nice thing to say, especially about the barrel. But both the
grocer and the student laughed; it had been said in fun. |
Og det var uartigt sagt,
især mod Bøtten, men Spekhøkeren loe og Studenten loe, det var
jo sagt saadan i en Slags Spøg. |
| It annoyed the pixy
though. He had overheard the remark and thought it was an insult
to the grocer, who owned the whole house and sold the very best
quality butter. |
Men Nissen ærgrede sig,
at man turde sige sligt til en Spekhøker, der var Huusvært og
solgte det bedste Smør. |
| Night fell; the store
was closed and everyone had gone to sleep except the student
and the pixy. He sneaked into the grocer's bedroom. The grocer's
wife was sleeping with her mouth open and the pixy stole her
sharp tongue: she didn't use it while she slept. Everything
in the whole house that he put the tongue on was given the power
of speech. Each of them could express its feelings and formulate
its thoughts just as well as the grocer's wife could. But since
there was only one tongue, they could only speak one at a time,
which was a blessing, I am sure, or they all would have talked
at once. |
Da det blev Nat, Boutiken
lukket og Alle tilsengs, paa Studenten nær, gik Nissen ind og
tog Madammens Mundlæder, det brugte hun ikke naar hun sov, og
hvor i Stuen han satte det paa nogensomhelst Gjenstand, der
fik den Maal og Mæle, kunde udtale sine Tanker og Følelser ligesaa
godt, som Madammen, men kun een ad Gangen kunde faae det, og
det var en Velgjerning, for ellers havde de jo talt hverandre
i Munden. |
| The first thing that
was allowed to borrow the tongue was the barrel; it was filled
with old newspapers. "Is it really true," asked the pixy, "that
you don't know what poetry is?" |
Og Nissen satte Mundlæderet
paa Bøtten, hvori de gamle Aviser laae: "Er det virkeligt sandt,"
spurgte han, "at de ikke veed, hvad Poesi er?" |
| "Certainly I know what
poetry is," said the barrel. "It's something printed on the
back page of a newspaper that people cut out sometimes. I think
that I have more poetry inside me than the student has. And
what am I compared to the grocer, just a poor old barrel." |
"Jo, det veed jeg,"
sagde Bøtten, "det er saadant noget, som staaer paa Nederdelen
af Aviserne og klippes ud! jeg skulde troe, at jeg har mere
af det inden i mig, end Studenten, og jeg er kun en ringe Bøtte
imod Spekhøkeren!" |
| Then the pixy put the
tongue on the coffee grinder and there it certainly wagged.
He also put it on the tub of butter and the cash drawer just
to hear their opinions. They agreed unanimously with the barrel,
and the opinion of the majority must be respected. |
Og Nissen satte Mundlæderet
paa Caffemøllen, nei, hvor den gik! og han satte det paa Smørfjerdingen
og Pengeskuffen; Alle vare de af Mening, som Bøtten, og hvad
de fleste ere enige om, det maa man respectere. |
| "I will fix that student!"
muttered the pixy, and sneaked up the back stairs to the garret
where the young man lived. The student was still up, a light
was burning in his room. The pixy looked through the keyhole.
The young man was sitting reading the old book he had bought
for eight pennies. How bright the room seemed! It was as if
a ray of light came from the book, a luminous tree whose branches
spread out across the ceiling. The leaves were fresh and green
and on each branch flowers bloomed and fruit hung. The flowers
were faces of young maidens, some with radiant dark eyes and
other with clear blue ones. The fruits were sparkling stars.
All the while the most beautiful music could be heard. |
"Nu skal Studenten faae!"
og saa gik Nissen ganske sagte af Kjøkkentrappen op til Qvisten,
hvor Studenten boede. Der var Lys derinde, og Nissen kiggede
gjennem Nøglehullet og saae, at Studenten læste i den pjaltede
Bog nedefra. Men, hvor der var lyst derinde! der stod ud af
Bogen en klar Straale, der blev til en Stamme, til et mægtigt
Træ, som løftede sig saa høit og bredte sine Grene vidt ud over
Studenten. Hvert Blad var saa friskt og hver Blomst var et deiligt
Pigehoved, nogle med Øine saa mørke og straalende, andre saa
blaa og forunderlige klare. Hver Frugt var en skinnende Stjerne,
og saa sang og klang det vidunderligt deiligt! |
| Such splendor the little
pixy had never seen or even thought possible. He stood on his
toes and looked and looked until the light was put out. Even
when the student had blown out his candle and gone to bed, the
pixy tarried. He could still hear the music, a song so soft
and comforting; a lovely lullaby for the student, who was falling
asleep. |
Nei, saadan Herlighed
havde den lille Nisse aldrig tænkt sig, end sige seet og fornummet.
Og saa blev han staaende paa Taaspidserne, kiggede og kiggede,
til Lyset derinde slukkedes; Studenten blæste nok sin Lampe
ud og gik til Sengs, men den lille Nisse stod der alligevel,
thi Sangen klang endnu saa blød og deilig, en yndig Vugge-Vise
for Studenten, der lagde sig til Ro. |
| "But that was fantastic!"
mumbled the pixy. "That I had not expected! I think I will move
in with the student!" Then he thought--and he thought very sensibly--"But
the student does not have any porridge." And he sighed. Down
the stairs he went, down to the grocer. And that was lucky,
for the barrel had almost worn out the grocer's wife's tongue.
It had lectured, giving all the opinions that were written in
the old newspapers inside it. When the pixy came it had just
begun to repeat them. He took the tongue and gave it back to
its owner. But from that time on the whole store, from the cash
drawer to the firewood that lay by the stove, all had the same
opinions as the barrel, whom they so honored and respected that
when the grocer, in the evening, would read aloud the theater
column to his wife, they thought that the barrel had written
it. |
"Her er mageløst!" sagde
den lille Nisse, "det havde jeg ikke ventet! - Jeg troer, at
jeg vil blive hos Studenten-!" - og han tænkte - og tænkte fornuftigt,
og saa sukkede han: "Studenten har ingen Grød!" - og saa gik
han - ja, saa gik han ned igjen til Spekhøkeren; - og det var
godt han kom, for Bøtten havde næsten forbrugt alt Madammens
Mundlæder, ved at udtale fra een Led alt hvad den rummede i
sig, og nu var den lige i Begreb med at vende sig, for at give
det samme igjen fra den anden Led, da Nissen kom og tog Mundlæderet
igjen til Madammen; men hele Boutiken, fra Pengeskuffen til
Pindebrændet havde fra den Tid Mening efter Bøtten, og de agtede
den i en saadan Grad, og tiltroede den saameget, at naar Spekhøkeren
siden efter læste "Kunst- og Theateranmeldelser" af sin "Tidende",
den om Aftenen, saa troede de, at det kom fra Bøtten. |
| But the pixy no longer
stayed downstairs in the evening to listen to the grocer and
his wife. No, as soon as the student had lit his candle, it
was as if the light from the garret were an anchor cable that
drew him up. He had to go and peek through the keyhole. He experienced
greatness. He saw what we see when God, disguised as the storm,
walks across the turbulent ocean. He cried without knowing why
he cried, but found that in those tears happiness was hidden.
"How wonderful it must be," he thought, "to sit under the magic
tree together with the student." But that was not possible;
he had to be satisfied with looking through the keyhole. The
autumn winds blew; the cold air whistled through the loft and
down the corridor where the little pixy was standing, his eyes
glued to the keyhole of the student's door. It was cold, wretchedly
cold; but the pixy did not feel it before the student had put
out his light and the sound of the music that came from the
garret had ceased. But then he froze! He hurried down into his
own little warm corner that was so cozy and comfortable. At
Christmas when the porridge with the lump of butter in it was
served, the pixy acknowledged no other master than the grocer.
|
Men den lille Nisse
sad ikke længer rolig og lyttede til al den Viisdom og Forstand
dernede, nei saasnart at Lyset skinnede fra Qvistkammeret, saa
var det ligesom om Straalerne vare stærke Ankertoug, der drog
ham derop, og han maatte afsted og kigge ind af Nøglehullet,
og der ombruste ham da en Storhed, som den vi føle ved det rullende
Hav, naar Gud i Stormen gaaer hen over det, og han brast i Graad,
han vidste ikke selv, hvorfor han græd, men der var i denne
Graad noget saa velsignet! - Hvor det maatte være mageløst deiligt,
at sidde med Studenten under det Træ, men det kunde ikke skee,
- han var glad ved Nøglehullet. Der stod han endnu paa den kolde
Gang, da Efteraars-Vinden blæste ned fra Loftslugen og det var
saa koldt, saa koldt, men det følte den Lille først, naar Lyset
slukkedes inde paa Tagkammeret, og Tonerne døde hen for Vinden.
Hu! saa frøs han og krøb ned igjen i sin lune Krog; der var
mageligt og behageligt! - Og da Julegrøden kom med en stor Klump
Smør, - ja, saa var Spekhøkeren Mester! |
| One night the pixy was
awakened by a terrible noise. People were banging on the shutters
of the store, the whole street was as light as day from a fire.
Everyone wanted to know whose house was burning. Was it his
own or the neighbor's? It was terrible! The grocer's wife got
so disconcerted that she took off her gold earrings and put
them in her pocket, in order to save something. The grocer hurriedly
collected his bonds and the maid her silk shawl: that was her
luxury, the one she could afford. All the people wanted to save
what was dearest to them, and so did the pixy. He ran up the
stairs and into the student's room. The young man was standing
calmly at the window looking at the fire in the house across
the street. The little pixy grabbed the book that was lying
on the table, put it into his red cap, and ran. He had saved
the most valuable thing in the house. He climbed out on the
roof and up on the chimney stack; there, illuminated by the
burning house, he sat holding his treasure tightly with both
his hands. Now he finally understood his heart's desire, where
his loyalty belonged! But when the fire in the house across
the street had been put out, then he thought about it again.
"I will share myself between them," he said, "for I cannot leave
the grocer altogether. I must stay there for the sake of the
porridge." |
Men midt om Natten vaagnede
Nissen ved et frygteligt Rabalder paa Vindues-Skudderne, Folk
udenfor dundrede paa; Vægteren peeb, der var stor Ildløs; hele
Gaden stod i lysende Lue. Var det her i Huset eller hos Naboens?
Hvor? Det var en Forfærdelse! Spekhøker-Madammen blev saa befippet,
at hun tog sine Guld-Ørenringe af Ørene og puttede dem i Lommen,
for dog at redde Noget, Spekhøkeren løb efter sine Obligationer
og Tjenestepigen efter sin Silkemantille, den havde hun Raad
til; hver vilde redde det Bedste og det vilde ogsaa den lille
Nisse, og i et Par Spring var han oppe af Trappen og inde hos
Studenten, som stod ganske rolig ved det aabne Vindue og saae
ud paa Ilden, der var i Gjenboens Gaard. Den lille Nisse greb
paa Bordet den vidunderlige Bog, puttede den i sin røde Hue
og holdt paa den med begge Hænder, Husets bedste Skat var frelst!
og saa foer han afsted, heelt ud paa Taget, heelt op paa Skorstenen
og der sad han belyst af det brændende Huus ligeoverfor og holdt
med begge Hænder paa sin røde Hue, hvori Skatten laae. Nu kjendte
han sit Hjertelag, hvem han egentlig hørte til; men da saa Ilden
var slukket og han blev besindig, -ja: "jeg vil dele mig imellem
dem!" sagde han: "jeg kan ikke reent slippe Spekhøkeren for
Grødens Skyld!" |
| That was quite human!
After all, we, too, go to the grocer for the porridge's sake.
|
Og det var ganske menneskeligt!
- Vi andre gaae ogsaa, til Spekhøkeren - for Grøden. |
|