LITTLE TUK [1]
so many.
And again little Tuk lay in his bed, scarcely knowing whether he
was dreaming or not, for some one stood by him.
"Tuk! little Tuk!" said a voice. It was a very little person who
spoke. He was dressed as a sailor, and looked small enough to be a
middy, but he was not one. "I bring you many greetings from Corsor. It
is a rising town, full of life. It has steamships and mail-coaches. In
times past they used to call it ugly, but that is no longer true. I
lie on the sea-shore," said Corsor; "I have high-roads and
pleasure-gardens; I have given birth to a poet who was witty and
entertaining, which they are not all. I once wanted to fit out a
ship to sail round the world, but I did not accomplish it, though most
likely I might have done so. But I am fragrant with perfume, for close
to my gates most lovely roses bloom."
Then before the eyes of little Tuk appeared a confusion of colors,
red and green; but it cleared off, and he could distinguish a cliff
close to the bay, the slopes of which were quite overgrown with
verdure, and on its summit stood a fine old church with pointed
towers. Springs of water flowed out of the cliff in thick waterspouts,
so that there was a continual splashing. Close by sat an old king with
a golden crown on his white head. This was King Hroar of the Springs
and near the springs stood the town of Roeskilde, as it is called.
Then all the kings and queens of Denmark went up the ascent to the old
church, hand in hand, with golden crowns on their heads, while the
organ played and the fountains sent forth jets of water.
Little Tuk saw and heard it all. "Don't forget the names of
these towns," said King Hroar.
All at once everything vanished; but where! It seemed to him
like turning over the leaves of a book. And now there stood before him
an old peasant woman, who had come from Soroe where the grass grows in
the market-place. She had a green linen apron thrown over her head and
shoulders, and it was quite wet, as if it had been raining heavily.
"Yes, that it has," said she, and then, just as she was going to
tell him a great many pretty stories from Holberg's comedies, and
about Waldemar and Absalom, she suddenly shrunk up together, and
wagged her head as if she were a frog about to spring. "Croak," she
cried; "it is always wet, and as quiet as death in Soroe." Then little
Tuk saw she was changed into a frog. "Croak," and again she was an old
woman. "One must dress according to the weather," said she. "It is
wet, and my town is just like a bottle. By the cork we must go in, and
by the cork we must come out again. In olden times I had beautiful
fish, and now I have fresh, rosy-cheeked boys in the bottom of the
bottle, and they learn wisdom, Hebrew and Greek."
"Croak." How it sounded like the cry of the frogs on the moor,
or like the creaking of great boots when some one is marching,- always
the same tone, so monotonous and wearing, that little Tuk at length
fell fast asleep, and then the sound could not annoy him. But even
in this sleep came a dream or something like it. His little sister
Gustava, with her blue eyes, and fair curly hair, had grown up a
beautiful maiden all at once, and without having wings she could
fly. And they flew together over Zealand, over green forests and
blue lakes.
"Hark, so you hear the cock crow, little Tuk. 'Cock-a-doodle-doo.'
The fowls are flying out of Kjoge. You shall have a large farm-yard.
You shall never suffer hunger or want. The bird of good omen shall
be yours, and you shall become a rich and happy man; your house
shall rise up like King Waldemar's towers, and shall be richly adorned
with marble statues, like those at Prastoe. Understand me well; your
name shall travel with fame round the world like the ship that was
to sail from Corsor, and at Roeskilde,- Don't forget the names of
the towns, as King Hroar said,- you shall speak well and clearly
little Tuk, and when at last you lie in your grave you shall sleep
And again little Tuk lay in his bed, scarcely knowing whether he
was dreaming or not, for some one stood by him.
"Tuk! little Tuk!" said a voice. It was a very little person who
spoke. He was dressed as a sailor, and looked small enough to be a
middy, but he was not one. "I bring you many greetings from Corsor. It
is a rising town, full of life. It has steamships and mail-coaches. In
times past they used to call it ugly, but that is no longer true. I
lie on the sea-shore," said Corsor; "I have high-roads and
pleasure-gardens; I have given birth to a poet who was witty and
entertaining, which they are not all. I once wanted to fit out a
ship to sail round the world, but I did not accomplish it, though most
likely I might have done so. But I am fragrant with perfume, for close
to my gates most lovely roses bloom."
Then before the eyes of little Tuk appeared a confusion of colors,
red and green; but it cleared off, and he could distinguish a cliff
close to the bay, the slopes of which were quite overgrown with
verdure, and on its summit stood a fine old church with pointed
towers. Springs of water flowed out of the cliff in thick waterspouts,
so that there was a continual splashing. Close by sat an old king with
a golden crown on his white head. This was King Hroar of the Springs
and near the springs stood the town of Roeskilde, as it is called.
Then all the kings and queens of Denmark went up the ascent to the old
church, hand in hand, with golden crowns on their heads, while the
organ played and the fountains sent forth jets of water.
Little Tuk saw and heard it all. "Don't forget the names of
these towns," said King Hroar.
All at once everything vanished; but where! It seemed to him
like turning over the leaves of a book. And now there stood before him
an old peasant woman, who had come from Soroe where the grass grows in
the market-place. She had a green linen apron thrown over her head and
shoulders, and it was quite wet, as if it had been raining heavily.
"Yes, that it has," said she, and then, just as she was going to
tell him a great many pretty stories from Holberg's comedies, and
about Waldemar and Absalom, she suddenly shrunk up together, and
wagged her head as if she were a frog about to spring. "Croak," she
cried; "it is always wet, and as quiet as death in Soroe." Then little
Tuk saw she was changed into a frog. "Croak," and again she was an old
woman. "One must dress according to the weather," said she. "It is
wet, and my town is just like a bottle. By the cork we must go in, and
by the cork we must come out again. In olden times I had beautiful
fish, and now I have fresh, rosy-cheeked boys in the bottom of the
bottle, and they learn wisdom, Hebrew and Greek."
"Croak." How it sounded like the cry of the frogs on the moor,
or like the creaking of great boots when some one is marching,- always
the same tone, so monotonous and wearing, that little Tuk at length
fell fast asleep, and then the sound could not annoy him. But even
in this sleep came a dream or something like it. His little sister
Gustava, with her blue eyes, and fair curly hair, had grown up a
beautiful maiden all at once, and without having wings she could
fly. And they flew together over Zealand, over green forests and
blue lakes.
"Hark, so you hear the cock crow, little Tuk. 'Cock-a-doodle-doo.'
The fowls are flying out of Kjoge. You shall have a large farm-yard.
You shall never suffer hunger or want. The bird of good omen shall
be yours, and you shall become a rich and happy man; your house
shall rise up like King Waldemar's towers, and shall be richly adorned
with marble statues, like those at Prastoe. Understand me well; your
name shall travel with fame round the world like the ship that was
to sail from Corsor, and at Roeskilde,- Don't forget the names of
the towns, as King Hroar said,- you shall speak well and clearly
little Tuk, and when at last you lie in your grave you shall sleep