安徒生童话-第88章
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the blood is rushing to my head。〃 And thensuddenly recurred to him the strange event of the evening before； whenhis head had been fixed between the iron railings in front of thehospital。 〃That is the cause of it all！〃 he exclaimed； 〃I must dosomething in time。 A Russian bath would be a very good thing tobegin with。 I wish I were lying on one of the highest shelves。〃 Sureenough； there he lay on an upper shelf of a vapor bath； still in hisevening costume； with his boots and goloshes on； and the hot dropsfrom the ceiling falling on his face。 〃Ho！〃 he cried； jumping down andrushing towards the plunging bath。 The attendant stopped him with aloud cry； when he saw a man with all his clothes on。 The volunteerhad； however； presence of mind enough to whisper； 〃It is for a wager；〃but the first thing he did； when he reached his own room； was to put alarge blister on his neck； and another on his back； that his crazy fitmight be cured。 The next morning his back was very sore； which was allhe gained by the goloshes of Fortune。
THE CLERK'S TRANSFORMATION
The watchman； whom we of course have not forgotten； thought； aftera while； of the goloshes which he had found and taken to the hospital；so he went and fetched them。 But neither the lieutenant nor any one inthe street could recognize them as their own； so he gave them up tothe police。 〃They look exactly like my own goloshes；〃 said one ofthe clerks； examining the unknown articles； as they stood by theside of his own。 〃It would require even more than the eye of ashoemaker to know one pair from the other。〃
〃Master clerk；〃 said a servant who entered with some papers。 Theclerk turned and spoke to the man； but when he had done with him； heturned to look at the goloshes again； and now he was in greaterdoubt than ever as to whether the pair on the right or on the leftbelonged to him。 〃Those that are wet must be mine；〃 thought he； but hethought wrong； it was just the reverse。 The goloshes of Fortune werethe wet pair； and； besides； why should not a clerk in a policeoffice be wrong sometimes？ So he drew them on； thrust his papersinto his pocket； placed a few manuscripts under his arm； which hehad to take with him； and to make abstracts from at home。 Then； asit was Sunday morning and the weather very fine； he said to himself；〃A walk to Fredericksburg will do me good：〃 so away he went。
There could not be a quieter or more steady young man than thisclerk。 We will not grudge him this little walk； it was just thething to do him good after sitting so much。 He went on at first like amere automaton； without thought or wish； therefore the goloshes had noopportunity to display their magic power。 In the avenue he met with anacquaintance； one of our young poets； who told him that he intended tostart on the following day on a summer excursion。 〃Are you reallygoing away so soon？〃 asked the clerk。 〃What a free； happy man you are。You can roam about where you will； while such as we are tied by thefoot。〃
〃But it is fastened to the bread…tree；〃 replied the poet。 〃Youneed have no anxiety for the morrow； and when you are old there is apension for you。〃
〃Ah； yes； but you have the best of it；〃 said the clerk； 〃it mustbe so delightful to sit and write poetry。 The whole world makes itselfagreeable to you； and then you are your own master。 You should try howyou would like to listen to all the trivial things in a court ofjustice。〃 The poet shook his head； so also did the clerk； eachretained his own opinion； and so they parted。 〃They are strangepeople； these poets；〃 thought the clerk。 〃I should like to try what itis to have a poetic taste； and to bee a poet myself。 I am sure Ishould not write such mournful verses as they do。 This is a splendidspring day for a poet； the air is so remarkably clear； the cloudsare so beautiful； and the green grass has such a sweet smell。 For manyyears I have not felt as I do at this moment。〃
We perceive； by these remarks； that he had already bee apoet。 By most poets what he had said would be considered mon…place；or as the Germans call it； 〃insipid。〃 It is a foolish fancy to lookupon poets as different to other men。 There are many who are morethe poets of nature than those who are professed poets。 The differenceis this； the poet's intellectual memory is better； he seizes upon anidea or a sentiment； until he can embody it； clearly and plainly inwords； which the others cannot do。 But the transition from a characterof every…day life to one of a more gifted nature is a greattransition； and so the clerk became aware of the change after atime。 〃What a delightful perfume；〃 said he； 〃it reminds me of theviolets at Aunt Lora's。 Ah； that was when I was a little boy。 Dear me；how long it seems since I thought of those days！ She was a good oldmaiden lady！ she lived yonder； behind the Exchange。 She always had asprig or a few blossoms in water； let the winter be ever so severe。I could smell the violets； even while I was placing warm pennypieces against the frozen panes to make peep…holes； and a prettyview it was on which I peeped。 Out in the river lay the ships；icebound； and forsaken by their crews； a screaming crow representedthe only living creature on board。 But when the breezes of springcame； everything started into life。 Amidst shouting and cheers theships were tarred and rigged； and then they sailed to foreign lands。
〃I remain here； and always shall remain； sitting at my post at thepolice office； and letting others take passports to distant lands。Yes； this is my fate；〃 and he sighed deeply。 Suddenly he paused。 〃Goodgracious； what has e over me？ I never felt before as I do now； itmust be the air of spring。 It is overpowering； and yet it isdelightful。〃
He felt in his pockets for some of his papers。 〃These will give mesomething else to think of；〃 said he。 Casting his eyes on the firstpage of one； he read； 〃'Mistress Sigbirth； an original Tragedy； inFive Acts。' What is this？… in my own handwriting； too！ Have Iwritten this tragedy？〃 He read again； 〃'The Intrigue on the Promenade；or； the Fast…Day。 A Vaudeville。' However did I get all this？ Someone must have put them into my pocket。 And here is a letter！〃 It wasfrom the manager of a theatre； the pieces were rejected； not at all inpolite terms。
〃Hem； hem！〃 said he； sitting down on a bench； his thoughts werevery elastic； and his heart softened strangely。 Involuntarily heseized one of the nearest flowers； it was a little； simple daisy。All that botanists can say in many lectures was explained in amoment by this little flower。 It spoke of the glory of its birth； ittold of the strength of the sunlight； which had caused its delicateleaves to expand； and given to it such sweet perfume。 The struggles oflife which arouse sensations in the bosom have their type in thetiny flowers。 Air and light are the lovers of the flowers； but lightis the favored one； towards light it turns； and only when lightvanishes does it fold its leaves together； and sleep in the embracesof the air。〃
〃It is light that adorns me；〃 said the flower。
〃But the air gives you the breath of life；〃 whispered the poet。
Just by him stood a boy； splashing with his stick in a marshyditch。 The water…drops spurted up among the green twigs； and the clerkthought of the millions of animalculae which were thrown into theair with every drop of water； at a height which must be the same tothem as it would be to us if we were hurled beyond the clouds。 Asthe clerk thought of all these things； and became conscious of thegreat change in his own feelings； he smiled； and said to himself； 〃Imust be asleep and dreaming； and yet； if so； how wonderful for a dreamto be so natural and real； and to know at the same time too that it isbut a dream。 I hope I shall be able to remember it all when I waketomorrow。 My sensations seem most unaccountable。 I have a clearperception of everything as if I were wide awake。 I am quite sure if Irecollect all this tomorrow； it will appear utterly ridiculous andabsurd。 I have had this happen to me before。 It is with the cleveror wonderful things we say or hear in dreams； as with the gold whiches from under the earth； it is rich and beautiful when we possessit； but when seen in a true light it is but as stones and witheredleaves。〃
〃Ah！〃 he sighed mournfully； as he gazed at the birds singingmerrily； or hopping from branch to branch； 〃they are much better offthan I。 Flying is a glorious power。 Happy is he who is born withwings。 Yes； if I could change myself into anything I would be a littlelark。〃 At the same moment his coat…tails and sleeves grew together andformed wings； his clothes changed to feathers； and his goloshes toclaws。 He felt what was taking place； and laughed to himself。 〃Well；now it is evident I must be dreaming； but I never had such a wilddream as this。〃 And then he flew up into the green boughs and sang；but there was no poetry in the song； for his poetic nature had lefthim。 The goloshes； like all persons who wish to do a thing thoroughly；could only attend to one thing at a time。 He wished to be a poet；and he became one。 Then he wanted to be a little bird； and in thischange he lost the characteristics of the former one。 〃Well；〃thought he； 〃this is charming； by day I sit in a police…office；amongst the dryest law papers； and at night I can dream that I am alark； fly
