SOUP FROM A SAUSAGE SKEWER [1]
from a sausage skewer. We
sailed on for many days and nights; the ship rocked fearfully, and
we did not escape without a wetting. As soon as we arrived at the port
to which the ship was bound, I left it, and went on shore at a place
far towards the north. It is a wonderful thing to leave your own
little corner at home, to hide yourself in a ship where there are sure
to be some nice snug corners for shelter, then suddenly to find
yourself thousands of miles away in a foreign land. I saw large
pathless forests of pine and birch trees, which smelt so strong that I
sneezed and thought of sausage. There were great lakes also which
looked as black as ink at a distance, but were quite clear when I came
close to them. Large swans were floating upon them, and I thought at
first they were only foam, they lay so still; but when I saw them walk
and fly, I knew what they were directly. They belong to the goose
species, one can see that by their walk. No one can attempt to
disguise family descent. I kept with my own kind, and associated
with the forest and field mice, who, however, knew very little,
especially about what I wanted to know, and which had actually made me
travel abroad. The idea that soup could be made from a sausage
skewer was to them such an out-of-the-way, unlikely thought, that it
was repeated from one to another through the whole forest. They
declared that the problem would never be solved, that the thing was an
impossibility. How little I thought that in this place, on the very
first night, I should be initiated into the manner of its preparation.
"It was the height of summer, which the mice told me was the
reason that the forest smelt so strong, and that the herbs were so
fragrant, and the lakes with the white swimming swans so dark, and yet
so clear. On the margin of the wood, near to three or four houses, a
pole, as large as the mainmast of a ship, had been erected, and from
the summit hung wreaths of flowers and fluttering ribbons; it was
the Maypole. Lads and lasses danced round the pole, and tried to outdo
the violins of the musicians with their singing. They were as merry as
ever at sunset and in the moonlight, but I took no part in the
merry-making. What has a little mouse to do with a Maypole dance? I
sat in the soft moss, and held my sausage skewer tight. The moon threw
its beams particularly on one spot where stood a tree covered with
exceedingly fine moss. I may almost venture to say that it was as fine
and soft as the fur of the mouse-king, but it was green, which is a
color very agreeable to the eye. All at once I saw the most charming
little people marching towards me. They did not reach higher than my
knee; they looked like human beings, but were better proportioned, and
they called themselves elves. Their clothes were very delicate and
fine, for they were made of the leaves of flowers, trimmed with the
wings of flies and gnats, which had not a bad effect. By their manner,
it appeared as if they were seeking for something. I knew not what,
till at last one of them espied me and came towards me, and the
foremost pointed to my sausage skewer, and said, 'There, that is
just what we want; see, it is pointed at the top; is it not
capital?' and the longer he looked at my pilgrim's staff, the more
delighted he became. 'I will lend it to you,' said I, 'but not to
keep.'
"'Oh no, we won't keep it!' they all cried; and then they seized
the skewer, which I gave up to them, and danced with it to the spot
where the delicate moss grew, and set it up in the middle of the
green. They wanted a maypole, and the one they now had seemed cut
out on purpose for them. Then they decorated it so beautifully that it
was quite dazzling to look at. Little spiders spun golden threads
around it, and then it was hung with fluttering veils and flags so
delicately white that they glittered like snow in the moonshine. After
that they took colors from the butterfly's wing, and sprinkled them
over the white drapery
sailed on for many days and nights; the ship rocked fearfully, and
we did not escape without a wetting. As soon as we arrived at the port
to which the ship was bound, I left it, and went on shore at a place
far towards the north. It is a wonderful thing to leave your own
little corner at home, to hide yourself in a ship where there are sure
to be some nice snug corners for shelter, then suddenly to find
yourself thousands of miles away in a foreign land. I saw large
pathless forests of pine and birch trees, which smelt so strong that I
sneezed and thought of sausage. There were great lakes also which
looked as black as ink at a distance, but were quite clear when I came
close to them. Large swans were floating upon them, and I thought at
first they were only foam, they lay so still; but when I saw them walk
and fly, I knew what they were directly. They belong to the goose
species, one can see that by their walk. No one can attempt to
disguise family descent. I kept with my own kind, and associated
with the forest and field mice, who, however, knew very little,
especially about what I wanted to know, and which had actually made me
travel abroad. The idea that soup could be made from a sausage
skewer was to them such an out-of-the-way, unlikely thought, that it
was repeated from one to another through the whole forest. They
declared that the problem would never be solved, that the thing was an
impossibility. How little I thought that in this place, on the very
first night, I should be initiated into the manner of its preparation.
"It was the height of summer, which the mice told me was the
reason that the forest smelt so strong, and that the herbs were so
fragrant, and the lakes with the white swimming swans so dark, and yet
so clear. On the margin of the wood, near to three or four houses, a
pole, as large as the mainmast of a ship, had been erected, and from
the summit hung wreaths of flowers and fluttering ribbons; it was
the Maypole. Lads and lasses danced round the pole, and tried to outdo
the violins of the musicians with their singing. They were as merry as
ever at sunset and in the moonlight, but I took no part in the
merry-making. What has a little mouse to do with a Maypole dance? I
sat in the soft moss, and held my sausage skewer tight. The moon threw
its beams particularly on one spot where stood a tree covered with
exceedingly fine moss. I may almost venture to say that it was as fine
and soft as the fur of the mouse-king, but it was green, which is a
color very agreeable to the eye. All at once I saw the most charming
little people marching towards me. They did not reach higher than my
knee; they looked like human beings, but were better proportioned, and
they called themselves elves. Their clothes were very delicate and
fine, for they were made of the leaves of flowers, trimmed with the
wings of flies and gnats, which had not a bad effect. By their manner,
it appeared as if they were seeking for something. I knew not what,
till at last one of them espied me and came towards me, and the
foremost pointed to my sausage skewer, and said, 'There, that is
just what we want; see, it is pointed at the top; is it not
capital?' and the longer he looked at my pilgrim's staff, the more
delighted he became. 'I will lend it to you,' said I, 'but not to
keep.'
"'Oh no, we won't keep it!' they all cried; and then they seized
the skewer, which I gave up to them, and danced with it to the spot
where the delicate moss grew, and set it up in the middle of the
green. They wanted a maypole, and the one they now had seemed cut
out on purpose for them. Then they decorated it so beautifully that it
was quite dazzling to look at. Little spiders spun golden threads
around it, and then it was hung with fluttering veils and flags so
delicately white that they glittered like snow in the moonshine. After
that they took colors from the butterfly's wing, and sprinkled them
over the white drapery