安徒生童話：The Goloshes of Fortune

A Beginning

N a house in Copenhagen, not far from the king’s new market, a very large party had assembled, the host and his family expecting, no doubt, to receive invitations in return. One half of the company were already seated at the card-tables, the other half seemed to be waiting the result of their hostess’s question, “Well, how shall we amuse ourselves?”

Conversation followed, which, after a while, began to prove very entertaining. Among other subjects, it turned upon the events of the middle ages, which some persons maintained were more full of interest than our own times. Counsellor Knapp defended this opinion so warmly that the lady of the house immediately went over to his side, and both exclaimed against Oersted’s Essays on Ancient and Modern Times, in which the preference is given to our own. The counsellor considered the times of the Danish king, Hans,¹ as the noblest and happiest.

The conversation on this topic was only interrupted for a moment by the arrival of a newspaper, which did not, however, contain much worth reading, and while it is still going on we will pay a visit to the ante-room, in which cloaks, sticks, and goloshes were carefully placed. Here sat two maidens, one young, and the other old, as if they had come and were waiting to accompany their mistresses home; but on looking at them more closely, it could easily be seen that they were no common servants. Their shapes were too graceful, their complexions too delicate, and the cut of their dresses much too elegant. They were two fairies. The younger was not Fortune herself, but the chambermaid of one of Fortune’s attendants, who carries about her more trifling gifts. The elder one, who was named Care, looked rather gloomy; she always goes about to perform her own business in person; for then she knows it is properly done. They were telling each other where they had been during the day. The messenger of Fortune had only transacted a few unimportant matters; for instance, she had preserved a new bonnet from a shower of rain, and obtained for an honest man a bow from a titled nobody, and so on; but she had something extraordinary to relate, after all.

“I must tell you,” said she, “that to-day is my birthday; and in honor of it I have been intrusted with a pair of goloshes, to introduce amongst mankind. These goloshes have the property of making every one who puts them on imagine himself in any place he wishes, or that he exists at any period. Every wish is fulfilled at the moment it is expressed, so that for once mankind have the chance of being happy.”

“No,” replied Care; “you may depend upon it that whoever puts on those goloshes will be very unhappy, and bless the moment in which he can get rid of them.”

“What are you thinking of?” replied the other. “Now see; I will place them by the door; some one will take them instead of his own, and he will be the happy man.”

This was the end of their conversation.

一個開始

Ñ 的房子在哥本哈根市中心，距離國王的新的市場不遠處，一個非常大的黨已經組裝，主機和他的家人期待，毫無疑問，收到邀請函的回報。該公司的一半已經坐在了卡表，另一半似乎在等待著他們的女主人的問題，結果“好吧，我們應如何取悅自己？”

談話其次，它，一段時間後，就開始證明是非常有趣的。在其他學科，它原來在中世紀，它保持一些人比我們自己的時代更加充滿興趣的活動。納普參贊這個辯護意見如此熱烈，房子的女主人立刻走到他的身邊，都驚呼反對奧斯特的散文在古代，近代，其中優先考慮我們自己。輔導員認為是丹麥國王，漢斯，時代¹為最高貴和最幸福的。

關於這一主題的談話只有一份報紙，它沒有，不過，包含了許多值得一讀，雖然它仍在進行中，我們將有機會參觀接待室，的到來打斷了片刻，其中斗篷，棍棒和goloshes被小心放置。在這裡坐著兩個少女，一位年輕的，和其他老，好像他們來，正等待陪伴他們的情婦家; 但是在他們更加密切關注，它可以很容易地看到，他們沒有共同的僕人。它們的形狀太優美，他們的膚色過於細膩，和他們的禮服的剪裁太優雅。他們是兩個仙女。年輕是財富不是自己，而是財富的侍從之一的侍女，誰攜帶了她更多的瑣碎禮物。較年長的一個，誰被評為護理，顯得相當黯淡; 她總是去要親自執行自己的生意; 因為那時她知道它做得好。他們告訴對方，他們在白天已經。財富的使者以前只交易幾個不重要的事項; 比如，她曾從一場陣雨保存一頂新帽子，而對於一個誠實的人從一個名為無人弓獲得，依此類推; 但是她有什麼過人涉及，畢竟。

“我必須告訴你，”她說，“那到今天是我的生日; 而為了紀念它，我已經託付一對goloshes的，介紹人類之中。這些goloshes有可能使每一個誰把他們想像自己在他希望的任何地方，或者說，他存在於任何期間的財產。每一個願望被滿足的情況下表示的時刻，因此對於人類曾經擁有的幸福的機會。“

“不，”回答關懷; “你可以依靠它，無論誰穿那些goloshes會很不高興，並祝福的那一刻，他可以擺脫他們。”

“你在想什麼呢？”回答對方。“現在看; 我必使他們在門口; 有些人會帶他們，而不是他自己的，他將成為快樂的人。“

這是他們的談話結束。

What Happened to the Counsellor

T was late when Counsellor Knapp, lost in thought about the times of King Hans, desired to return home; and fate so ordered it that he put on the goloshes of Fortune instead of his own, and walked out into the East Street. Through the magic power of the goloshes, he was at once carried back three hundred years, to the times of King Hans, for which he had been longing when he put them on. Therefore he immediately set his foot into the mud and mire of the street, which in those days possessed no pavement.

“Why, this is horrible; how dreadfully dirty it is!” said the counsellor; “and the whole pavement has vanished, and the lamps are all out.”

The moon had not yet risen high enough to penetrate the thick foggy air, and all the objects around him were confused together in the darkness. At the nearest corner, a lamp hung before a picture of the Madonna; but the light it gave was almost useless, for he only perceived it when he came quite close and his eyes fell on the painted figures of the Mother and Child.

“That is most likely a museum of art,” thought he, “and they have forgotten to take down the sign.”

Two men, in the dress of olden times, passed by him.

“What odd figures!” thought he; “they must be returning from some masquerade.”

Suddenly he heard the sound of a drum and fifes, and then a blazing light from torches shone upon him. The counsellor stared with astonishment as he beheld a most strange procession pass before him. First came a whole troop of drummers, beating their drums very cleverly; they were followed by life-guards, with longbows and crossbows. The principal person in the procession was a clerical-looking gentleman. The astonished counsellor asked what it all meant, and who the gentleman might be.

“That is the bishop of Zealand.”

“Good gracious!” he exclaimed; “what in the world has happened to the bishop? what can he be thinking about?” Then he shook his head and said, “It cannot possibly be the bishop himself.”

While musing on this strange affair, and without looking to the right or left, he walked on through East Street and over Highbridge Place. The bridge, which he supposed led to Palace Square, was nowhere to be found; but instead, he saw a bank and some shallow water, and two people, who sat in a boat.

“Does the gentleman wish to be ferried over the Holm?” asked one.

“To the Holm!” exclaimed the counsellor, not knowing in what age he was now existing; “I want to go to Christian’s Haven, in Little Turf Street.” The men stared at him. “Pray tell me where the bridge is!” said he. “It is shameful that the lamps are not lighted here, and it is as muddy as if one were walking in a marsh.” But the more he talked with the boatmen the less they could understand each other.

“I don’t understand your outlandish talk,” he cried at last, angrily turning his back upon them. He could not, however, find the bridge nor any railings.

“What a scandalous condition this place is in,” said he; never, certainly, had he found his own times so miserable as on this evening. “I think it will be better for me to take a coach; but where are they?” There was not one to be seen! “I shall be obliged to go back to the king’s new market,” said he, “where there are plenty of carriages standing, or I shall never reach Christian’s Haven.” Then he went towards East Street, and had nearly passed through it, when the moon burst forth from a cloud.

“Dear me, what have they been erecting here?” he cried, as he caught sight of the East gate, which in olden times used to stand at the end of East Street. However, he found an opening through which he passed, and came out upon where he expected to find the new market. Nothing was to be seen but an open meadow, surrounded by a few bushes, through which ran a broad canal or stream. A few miserable-looking wooden booths, for the accommodation of Dutch watermen, stood on the opposite shore.

“Either I behold a fata morgana, or I must be tipsy,” groaned the counsellor. “What can it be? What is the matter with me?” He turned back in the full conviction that he must be ill. In walking through the street this time, he examined the houses more closely; he found that most of them were built of lath and plaster, and many had only a thatched roof.

“I am certainly all wrong,” said he, with a sigh; “and yet I only drank one glass of punch. But I cannot bear even that, and it was very foolish to give us punch and hot salmon; I shall speak about it to our hostess, the agent’s lady. Suppose I were to go back now and say how ill I feel, I fear it would look so ridiculous, and it is not very likely that I should find any one up.” Then he looked for the house, but it was not in existence.

“This is really frightful; I cannot even recognize East Street. Not a shop to be seen; nothing but old, wretched, tumble-down houses, just as if I were at Roeskilde or Ringstedt. Oh, I really must be ill! It is no use to stand upon ceremony. But where in the world is the agent’s house. There is a house, but it is not his; and people still up in it, I can hear. Oh dear! I certainly am very queer.” As he reached the half-open door, he saw a light and went in. It was a tavern of the olden times, and seemed a kind of beershop. The room had the appearance of a Dutch interior. A number of people, consisting of seamen, Copenhagen citizens, and a few scholars, sat in deep conversation over their mugs, and took very little notice of the new comer.

“Pardon me,” said the counsellor, addressing the landlady, “I do not feel quite well, and I should be much obliged if you will send for a fly to take me to Christian’s Haven.” The woman stared at him and shook her head. Then she spoke to him in German. The counsellor supposed from this that she did not understand Danish; he therefore repeated his request in German. This, as well as his singular dress, convinced the woman that he was a foreigner. She soon understood, however, that he did not find himself quite well, and therefore brought him a mug of water. It had something of the taste of seawater, certainly, although it had been drawn from the well outside. Then the counsellor leaned his head on his hand, drew a deep breath, and pondered over all the strange things that had happened to him.

“Is that to-day’s number of the Day?”² he asked, quite mechanically, as he saw the woman putting by a large piece of paper. She did not understand what he meant, but she handed him the sheet; it was a woodcut, representing a meteor, which had appeared in the town of Cologne.

“That is very old,” said the counsellor, becoming quite cheerful at the sight of this antique drawing. “Where did you get this singular sheet? It is very interesting, although the whole affair is a fable. Meteors are easily explained in these days; they are northern lights, which are often seen, and are no doubt caused by electricity.”

Those who sat near him, and heard what he said, looked at him in great astonishment, and one of them rose, took off his hat respectfully, and said in a very serious manner, “You must certainly be a very learned man, monsieur.”

“Oh no,” replied the counsellor; “I can only discourse on topics which every one should understand.”

“Modestia is a beautiful virtue,” said the man. “Moreover, I must add to your speech mihi secus videtur; yet in this case I would suspend my judicium”.

“May I ask to whom I have the pleasure of speaking?”

“I am a Bachelor of Divinity,” said the man. This answer satisfied the counsellor. The title agreed with the dress.

“This is surely,” thought he, “an old village schoolmaster, a perfect original, such as one meets with sometimes even in Jutland.”

“This is not certainly a locus docendi,” began the man; “still I must beg you to continue the conversation. You must be well read in ancient lore.”

“Oh yes,” replied the counsellor; “I am very fond of reading useful old books, and modern ones as well, with the exception of every-day stories, of which we really have more than enough.”

“Every-day stories?” asked the bachelor.

“Yes, I mean the new novels that we have at the present day.”

“Oh,” replied the man, with a smile; “and yet they are very witty, and are much read at Court. The king likes especially the romance of Messeurs Iffven and Gaudian, which describes King Arthur and his knights of the round table. He has joked about it with the gentlemen of his Court.”

“Well, I have certainly not read that,” replied the counsellor. “I suppose it is quite new, and published by Heiberg.”

“No,” answered the man, “it is not by Heiberg; Godfred von Gehman brought it out.”

“Oh, is he the publisher? That is a very old name,” said the counsellor; “was it not the name of the first publisher in Denmark?”

“Yes; and he is our first printer and publisher now,” replied the scholar.

So far all had passed off very well; but now one of the citizens began to speak of a terrible pestilence which had been raging a few years before, meaning the plague of 1484. The counsellor thought he referred to the cholera, and they could discuss this without finding out the mistake. The war in 1490 was spoken of as quite recent. The English pirates had taken some ships in the Channel in 1801, and the counsellor, supposing they referred to these, agreed with them in finding fault with the English. The rest of the talk, however, was not so agreeable; every moment one contradicted the other. The good bachelor appeared very ignorant, for the simplest remark of the counsellor seemed to him either too bold or too fantastic. They stared at each other, and when it became worse the bachelor spoke in Latin, in the hope of being better understood; but it was all useless.

“How are you now?” asked the landlady, pulling the counsellor’s sleeve.

Then his recollection returned to him. In the course of conversation he had forgotten all that had happened previously.

“Goodness me! where am I?” said he. It bewildered him as he thought of it.

“We will have some claret, or mead, or Bremen beer,” said one of the guests; “will you drink with us?”

Two maids came in. One of them had a cap on her head of two colors.³ They poured out the wine, bowed their heads, and withdrew.

The counsellor felt a cold shiver run all over him. “What is this? what does it mean?” said he; but he was obliged to drink with them, for they overpowered the good man with their politeness. He became at last desperate; and when one of them said he was tipsy, he did not doubt the man’s word in the least—only begged them to get a droschky; and then they thought he was speaking the Muscovite language. Never before had he been in such rough and vulgar company. “One might believe that the country was going back to heathenism,” he observed. “This is the most terrible moment of my life.”

Just then it came into his mind that he would stoop under the table, and so creep to the door. He tried it; but before he reached the entry, the rest discovered what he was about, and seized him by the feet, when, luckily for him, off came the goloshes, and with them vanished the whole enchantment. The counsellor now saw quite plainly a lamp, and a large building behind it; everything looked familiar and beautiful. He was in East Street, as it now appears; he lay with his legs turned towards a porch, and just by him sat the watchman asleep.

“Is it possible that I have been lying here in the street dreaming?” said he. “Yes, this is East Street; how beautifully bright and gay it looks! It is quite shocking that one glass of punch should have upset me like this.”

Two minutes afterwards he sat in a droschky, which was to drive him to Christian’s Haven. He thought of all the terror and anxiety which he had undergone, and felt thankful from his heart for the reality and comfort of modern times, which, with all their errors, were far better than those in which he so lately found himself.

發生了什麼變化參贊

Ŧ是晚了，當參贊納普，失去了在約金漢斯的時代思想，期望回國; 命運如此下令，他把財富的，而不是他自己的goloshes，走到外面的東大街。通過goloshes的神奇的力量，他一下子帶回到三百年，到金漢斯的時間，為此，他一直嚮往當他穿上。因此，他立即成立了他的腳到街上的泥土和泥潭，這在那些日子裡擁有任何路面。

“為什麼，這是可怕的; ！這是多麼可怕臟“顧問說; “而且整個路面已經消失了，燈都全力以赴。”

月亮還沒有升起高到足以穿透厚厚的霧空氣，和他周圍所有的對象都混淆在一起在黑暗中。在最近的角落裡，一盞燈掛在麥當娜的照片前; 但它給光幾乎是沒用的，因為他只感覺到它，當他走近他的目光落在了母親和兒童畫人物。

“這是最有可能的藝術博物館，”他想，“他們已經忘了取下來的跡象。”

兩個男人，在古代的衣服，他通過。

“！什麼奇怪的人物”，認為他; “他們必須要返回一些偽裝。”

突然，他聽到了鼓和鼓笛的聲音，然後從火把照在他熾烈的光芒。輔導員瞪著驚訝，因為他之前，他看見一個最奇怪的遊行通。首先是鼓手的整個隊伍，擊敗他們的鼓非常巧妙; 隨即又救生員，用長弓和弩。在遊行的人主要是文書前瞻性的紳士。驚訝的輔導員問什麼這一切意味著，誰的紳士可能。

“這是中國的主教。”

！“天哪！”他喊道; “在世界上發生了什麼事主教？有什麼可以他在想什麼？“然後他搖搖頭說，”這不可能是主教他自己。“

而沉思在這個陌生的事情，並沒有看向左邊或右邊，他通過東大街和過高橋廣場走著。這座橋，這是他應該導致宮廣場，是無處可尋; 但是，他卻看到了銀行和一些淺水，兩個人，誰在船上坐。

“請問這位先生希望被擺渡過霍爾姆？”問了一句。

！“到霍爾姆”驚呼輔導員，不知道在什麼年齡，他現在是存在; “我想去基督教的避風港，在小草坪街。”男人盯著他。“請告訴我，那裡的橋！”他說。“這是可恥的燈是不是在這裡點燃，並且它是作為渾為如果一個人走在一個沼澤，”但是他越聊與船夫越少，他們可以相互理解。

“我不明白你的稀奇古怪的談話，”他哭了，最後，在他們憤怒地把他的背。他不能，但是，找不到那座橋也沒有任何欄杆。

“多麼可恥的條件這個地方是在，”他說。從來沒有，當然，如果他發現他自己的時代這麼慘的這天晚上。“我認為這將是更好地為我取一個教練; 但他們在哪裡？“有沒有一待觀察！“我將不得不回到國王的新的市場，”他說，“那裡有很多車廂站立的，不然我就永遠達不到基督徒的避風港。”說完，他便向著東大街，並通過它已幾乎過去了，當月亮從雲迸發。

“親愛的我，什麼都他們被豎立在這裡？”他哭了，因為他看見東柵，這在古代用來站在東大街的末端。然而，他發現，通過它，他通過一個開口，又出來後，他希望能夠找到新的市場。什麼也沒有看到，但一個開放的草甸，由少數灌木包圍，通過它跑了廣闊的運河或溪流。一些悲慘的前瞻性木亭，荷蘭船夫的住宿，站在對岸。

“要么我看見一個海市蜃樓，或者我必須醉意，“呻吟輔導員。“它可以是？什麼是我的事？“他完全相信，他一定是病了回頭。在穿過街道這個時候走，他更仔細地檢查了房子; 他發現，他們大多建板條和石膏，許多只有一個茅草屋頂。

“我當然都錯了，”他說，嘆了口氣; “可是我只喝衝的一杯。但我不能忍受即使說了，這是非常愚蠢的，讓我們衝和熱鮭魚; 我會講一下我們的女主人，代理人的淑女。假如我是現在回去，說我怎麼生病的感覺，我擔心它會看起來很可笑，這是不太可能，我應該找到任何一個。“然後，他找了房子，但它是不存在的。

“這真是可怕的; 我什至不能識別東街。沒有一家店待觀察; 只是老了，猥瑣，翻滾下來的房子，就好像我是在Roeskilde或Ringstedt。呵呵，我真的一定是病了！這是沒有用的站立儀式。但在世界何處是代理的房子。這裡是一所房子，但不是他的; 人們還住在這，我能聽見。哦，親愛的！我當然感到非常奇怪。“當他到達了半開的門，他看到一盞燈，走了進去，這是古代的一個小酒館，似乎有種beershop的。房間裡有一個荷蘭的外觀內飾。許多人，包括船員，哥本哈根市民和一些學者，坐在深入的談話在他們的杯子，並採取了新來的很少另行通知。

“對不起，”顧問說，解決房東太太，“我不覺得很不錯，我將不勝感激，如果你會送一隻蒼蠅帶我去基督教的避風港。”女人看著他，搖了搖頭。然後她跟他在德國。從這個所謂的輔導員，她不明白丹麥; 因此，他重複了他的請求，在德國。這一點，以及他的奇異的服飾，相信他是個外國人的女人。她很快但是理解的是，他並沒有發現自己的相當不錯，因此給他帶來的水一大杯。它有一些海水，肯定的味道，雖然它已經引起了遠超出。然後輔導員靠在他的頭在他的手，深深地吸了一口氣，沉吟了所有發生在他身上的怪事。

“是日常的的號碼一天？ “ ²他問，很機械地，當他看到女子把一個大紙上。她不明白他是什麼意思，但她遞上片; 這是一個木刻，較流星，它曾經出現在科隆的小鎮。

“這是很老的，”顧問說，變得相當開朗在這個古色古香的圖紙的視線。“你從哪裡得到這個奇異的表？這是非常有趣的，雖然整個事件是一則寓言。流星很容易在這些日子裡解釋; 他們是北極光，這是經常見到，並且毫無疑問，由電力引起的。“

這些誰坐在他旁邊，聽見他說什麼，很驚訝地看著他，其中一人玫瑰，摘下帽子恭恭敬敬，並在很認真地說，“你必須肯定是一個非常有學問的人，先生“。

“哦，不，回答說：”輔導員; “我只能說一說其中每個人都應該了解的話題。”

“ 斯蒂亞是一個美麗的美德，“那人說。“此外，我必須添加到您的講話mihi secus videtur ; 但在這種情況下，我將暫停我的judicium“ 。

“請問我向他們講有的快感？”

“我是神的學士學位，”那人說。這個答案滿意的輔導員。標題同意禮服。

“這是肯定，”他想，“一個老鄉村教師，一個完美的原，例如一個會見有時甚至在日德蘭半島。”

“這肯定不是一個軌跡docendi，“開始的人; “還是我必須求你繼續交談。你必須很好地閱讀古老的傳說。“

“哦，是的，回答說：”輔導員; “我很喜歡讀書有用的舊書，和現代的為好，除了每一天的故事，我們真的有足夠多的。”

“每一天的故事？”問光棍。

“是的，我的意思是，新的小說，我們必須在今天。”

“哦，”那人回答，面帶微笑; “但他們都非常機智，而且很多都是在讀法院。國王喜歡Messeurs Iffven和高迪安，它描述了亞瑟王和圓桌騎士他特別浪漫。他曾開玩笑說，這與他的法院的紳士“。

“嗯，我肯定沒有讀到，”回答的輔導員。“我想這是很新的，並海伯格出版。”

“不，”他回答，“這不是由海伯格; Godfred·馮·格曼拿出來。“

“哦，原來是他的問題嗎？這是一個非常古老的名字，“顧問說; “是不是在丹麥的第一個發布者的名字？”

“是的; 他是我們的第一台打印機和出版商現在，“那位學者。

到目前為止，所有已經通過了非常出色; 但現在市民一開始講一個可怕的瘟疫已經肆虐在幾年前，這意味著1484瘟疫。輔導員以為他提到了霍亂，他們可以討論這個沒有找出錯誤。在1490的戰爭說成是最近的事實。英國海盜採取了一些船舶在海峽在1801年，和輔導員，假設他們提到這些，與他們在找茬與英國達成一致。會談的其餘部分，然而，不是那麼融洽; 每一個時刻之一反駁對方。良好的單身漢顯得很無知，對輔導員的最簡單的說法似乎對他不是太大膽或太奇妙。他們盯著對方，而在拉丁美洲，當它成為更壞的單身漢說話的時候，在被更好地理解希望; 但是這一切都是無用的。

“你怎麼樣了？”問女房東，拉動輔導員的袖子。

然後他回憶退還給他。在談話過程中，他已經忘記了一切，以前沒有發生過。

“糟啦！我在哪裡？“他說。它迷惑他，因為他想到這一點。

“我們將有一些紅葡萄酒，蜂蜜酒或，或不來梅啤酒”之稱的嘉賓之一; “你喝的我們呢？”

兩個侍女走了進來。其中一人對她的頭兩種顏色的帽子。³他們倒了酒，低頭，並撤回。

輔導員感到一陣寒噤遍布他跑。“這是什麼？？這是什麼意思“他說; 但他不得不喝的他們，因為他們擊敗了好人與他們的禮貌。他成為最後絕望; 當其中一人說他是喝醉了，他沒有懷疑的人的話，最不只是求他們得到一個droschky; 然後他們以為他講的是白雲母語言。從來沒有過，他一直在這樣的粗糙和粗俗的公司。“有人可能會認為，該國打算回到異教，”他說。“這是我一生中最可怕的時刻。”

就在這時，它進入了他的腦海，他會彎腰在桌子底下，等爬門。他試了一下; 但在此之前，他到達了入口，其餘發現了他一下，並抓住他的腳的時候，幸運的是他，斷傳來goloshes，並與他們消失了整個結界。輔導員現在看到一清二楚一盞燈，和它背後的大型建築; 一切都顯得熟悉而美麗。他在東大街，因為現在看來; 他躺在他的腿上轉向一個門廊，只是他坐在守望睡著了。

“這是可能的，我已經躺在這裡的街道在做夢嗎？”他說。“是的，這是東大街; 如何精美亮麗光鮮它看起來！這是很令人震驚的是打孔的一個玻璃應該打亂我這個樣子。“

兩分鐘以後他就坐在一張droschky，這是開車送他到基督教的避風港。他認為所有的恐懼和焦慮，他經歷了，感覺現代倍，其中，與他們所有的錯誤，遠比那些在他最近這麼發現自己更好的現實性和舒適性感激他的心臟。

The Watchman’s Adventures

ELL, I declare, there lies a pair of goloshes,” said the watchman. “No doubt, they belong to the lieutenant who lives up stairs. They are lying just by his door.” Gladly would the honest man have rung, and given them in, for a light was still burning, but he did not wish to disturb the other people in the house; so he let them lie. “These things must keep the feet very warm,” said he; “they are of such nice soft leather.” Then he tried them on, and they fitted his feet exactly. “Now,” said he, “how droll things are in this world! There’s that man can lie down in his warm bed, but he does not do so. There he goes pacing up and down the room. He ought to be a happy man. He has neither wife nor children, and he goes out into company every evening. Oh, I wish I were he; then I should be a happy man.”

As he uttered this wish, the goloshes which he had put on took effect, and the watchman at once became the lieutenant. There he stood in his room, holding a little piece of pink paper between his fingers, on which was a poem,—a poem written by the lieutenant himself. Who has not had, for once in his life, a moment of poetic inspiration? and at such a moment, if the thoughts are written down, they flow in poetry. The following verses were written on the pink paper:—

“OH WERE I RICH!

“Oh were I rich! How oft, in youth’s bright hour,

When youthful pleasures banish every care,

I longed for riches but to gain a power,

The sword and plume and uniform to wear!

The riches and the honor came for me;

Yet still my greatest wealth was poverty:

Ah, help and pity me!

“Once in my youthful hours, when gay and free,

A maiden loved me; and her gentle kiss,

Rich in its tender love and purity,

Taught me, alas! too much of earthly bliss.

Dear child! She only thought of youthful glee;

She loved no wealth, but fairy tales and me.

Thou knowest: ah, pity me!

“Oh were I rich! again is all my prayer:

That child is now a woman, fair and free,

As good and beautiful as angels are.

Oh, were I rich in lovers’ poetry,

To tell my fairy tale, love’s richest lore!

But no; I must be silent—I am poor.

Ah, wilt thou pity me?

“Oh were I rich in truth and peace below,

I need not then my poverty bewail.

To thee I dedicate these lines of woe;

Wilt thou not understand the mournful tale?

A leaf on which my sorrows I relate—

Dark story of a darker night of fate.

Ah, bless and pity me!”

“Well, yes; people write poems when they are in love, but a wise man will not print them. A lieutenant in love, and poor. This is a triangle, or more properly speaking, the half of the broken die of fortune.” The lieutenant felt this very keenly, and therefore leaned his head against the window-frame, and sighed deeply. “The poor watchman in the street,” said he, “is far happier than I am. He knows not what I call poverty. He has a home, a wife and children, who weep at his sorrow and rejoice at his joy. Oh, how much happier I should be could I change my being and position with him, and pass through life with his humble expectations and hopes! Yes, he is indeed happier than I am.”

At this moment the watchman again became a watchman; for having, through the goloshes of Fortune, passed into the existence of the lieutenant, and found himself less contented than he expected, he had preferred his former condition, and wished himself again a watchman. “That was an ugly dream,” said he, “but droll enough. It seemed to me as if I were the lieutenant up yonder, but there was no happiness for me. I missed my wife and the little ones, who are always ready to smother me with kisses.” He sat down again and nodded, but he could not get the dream out of his thoughts, and he still had the goloshes on his feet. A falling star gleamed across the sky. “There goes one!” cried he. “However, there are quite enough left; I should very much like to examine these a little nearer, especially the moon, for that could not slip away under one’s hands. The student, for whom my wife washes, says that when we die we shall fly from one star to another. If that were true, it would be very delightful, but I don’t believe it. I wish I could make a little spring up there now; I would willingly let my body lie here on the steps.”

There are certain things in the world which should be uttered very cautiously; doubly so when the speaker has on his feet the goloshes of Fortune. Now we shall hear what happened to the watchman.

Nearly every one is acquainted with the great power of steam; we have proved it by the rapidity with which we can travel, both on a railroad or in a steamship across the sea. But this speed is like the movements of the sloth, or the crawling march of the snail, when compared to the swiftness with which light travels; light flies nineteen million times faster than the fleetest race-horse, and electricity is more rapid still. Death is an electric shock which we receive in our hearts, and on the wings of electricity the liberated soul flies away swiftly, the light from the sun travels to our earth ninety-five millions of miles in eight minutes and a few seconds; but on the wings of electricity, the mind requires only a second to accomplish the same distance. The space between the heavenly bodies is, to thought, no farther than the distance which we may have to walk from one friend’s house to another in the same town; yet this electric shock obliges us to use our bodies here below, unless, like the watchman, we have on the goloshes of Fortune.

In a very few seconds the watchman had travelled more than two hundred thousand miles to the moon, which is formed of a lighter material than our earth, and may be said to be as soft as new fallen snow. He found himself on one of the circular range of mountains which we see represented in Dr. Madler’s large map of the moon. The interior had the appearance of a large hollow, bowl-shaped, with a depth about half a mile from the brim. Within this hollow stood a large town; we may form some idea of its appearance by pouring the white of an egg into a glass of water. The materials of which it was built seemed just as soft, and pictured forth cloudy turrets and sail-like terraces, quite transparent, and floating in the thin air. Our earth hung over his head like a great dark red ball. Presently he discovered a number of beings, which might certainly be called men, but were very different to ourselves. A more fantastical imagination than Herschel’s must have discovered these. Had they been placed in groups, and painted, it might have been said, “What beautiful foliage!” They had also a language of their own. No one could have expected the soul of the watchman to understand it, and yet he did understand it, for our souls have much greater capabilities then we are inclined to believe. Do we not, in our dreams, show a wonderful dramatic talent? each of our acquaintance appears to us then in his own character, and with his own voice; no man could thus imitate them in his waking hours. How clearly, too, we are reminded of persons whom we have not seen for many years; they start up suddenly to the mind’s eye with all their peculiarities as living realities. In fact, this memory of the soul is a fearful thing; every sin, every sinful thought it can bring back, and we may well ask how we are to give account of “every idle word” that may have been whispered in the heart or uttered with the lips. The spirit of the watchman therefore understood very well the language of the inhabitants of the moon. They were disputing about our earth, and doubted whether it could be inhabited. The atmosphere, they asserted, must be too dense for any inhabitants of the moon to exist there. They maintained that the moon alone was inhabited, and was really the heavenly body in which the old world people lived. They likewise talked politics.

But now we will descend to East Street, and see what happened to the watchman’s body. He sat lifeless on the steps. His staff had fallen out of his hand, and his eyes stared at the moon, about which his honest soul was wandering.

“What is it o’clock, watchman?” inquired a passenger. But there was no answer from the watchman.

The man then pulled his nose gently, which caused him to lose his balance. The body fell forward, and lay at full length on the ground as one dead.

All his comrades were very much frightened, for he seemed quite dead; still they allowed him to remain after they had given notice of what had happened; and at dawn the body was carried to the hospital. We might imagine it to be no jesting matter if the soul of the man should chance to return to him, for most probably it would seek for the body in East Street without being able to find it. We might fancy the soul inquiring of the police, or at the address office, or among the missing parcels, and then at length finding it at the hospital. But we may comfort ourselves by the certainty that the soul, when acting upon its own impulses, is wiser than we are; it is the body that makes it stupid.

As we have said, the watchman’s body had been taken to the hospital, and here it was placed in a room to be washed. Naturally, the first thing done here was to take off the goloshes, upon which the soul was instantly obliged to return, and it took the direct road to the body at once, and in a few seconds the man’s life returned to him. He declared, when he quite recovered himself, that this had been the most dreadful night he had ever passed; not for a hundred pounds would he go through such feelings again. However, it was all over now.

The same day he was allowed to leave, but the goloshes remained at the hospital.

守望的歷險記

ELL，我聲明，其實存在著一對goloshes，說：“守望。“毫無疑問，他們是屬於誰辜負樓梯中尉。他們是由他的門剛好位於“勤於的老實人已經響起來了，在給了他們，一個光仍在燃燒，但他不希望打擾別人的房子。所以他讓他們說謊。“這些東西必須保持腳很熱情，”他說。“他們是這麼好的柔軟的皮革。”說完，他嘗試了他們，而他們裝他的腳正好。“現在，”他說，“滑稽可笑的事情是如何在這個世界上！還有人可以在他溫暖的床上躺下，但他沒有這樣做。在那裡，他去踱來踱去了房間。他應該是一個快樂的人。他既沒有妻子也沒有兒女，他出去到公司的每一個晚上。哦，我希望我是他; 那麼我應該是一個快樂的人。“

因為他說出了這個願望，這是他穿上了goloshes生效，並守望立即成為中尉。在那裡，他站在他的房間，拿著一小塊粉紅色的紙他的手指之間，上面寫著由中尉自己的一首詩， - 一首詩。誰沒有過，一次在他的生活中，詩的靈感的時刻？而在這樣的時刻，如果想法都寫下來，又流於詩歌。下面的經文寫在粉紅色的紙： -

“啊，ħ W ERE紅外非物質文化遺產！

“哦，是我發財了！如何再三，在青春的明亮小時，

當青春的快樂放逐每一個護理，

我渴望財富，但獲得權力，

劍羽，統一穿！

財富和榮譽來找我;

可是偏偏我最大的財富是貧窮：

啊，幫助和同情我！

“在我的青春小時一次，當同性戀和自由，

一個少女愛我; 和她溫柔的吻，

有著豐富的溫柔的愛和純潔，

教我，唉！太多塵世的幸福。

親愛的孩子！她只覺得青春歡樂的;

她愛沒有財富，但童話故事和我。

你知道：啊，可憐可憐我吧！

“哦，是我發財了！又是我所有的禱告：

那孩子現在是一個女人，公平和自由，

至於善，美的天使。

哦，是我豐富的戀人“詩，

告訴我的童話，愛情上最富有的絕殺！

但是，沒有; 我必須保持沉默，我窮。

啊，求你憐憫我嗎？

“哦，是我豐富的真理及以下的和平，

我不需要那麼我的貧窮痛哭。

為了你我奉獻榮辱與共的這些行;

阿，你不明白的悲切故事？

在我的悲傷我與-A葉

命運的黑暗的夜晚的黑暗故事。

啊，祝福和憐憫我！“

“嗯，是的; 人們寫詩時，他們相愛了，但一個聰明的人不會打印出來。在愛情中尉，差。這是一個三角形，或者更恰當地說，破模具財富的一半。“中尉覺得這很敏銳的，因此他俯身頭靠在窗口框架，並深深地嘆了一口氣。“可憐的守望者在大街上，”他說，“遠遠比快樂的我。他不知道我所說的貧困。他有一個家，一個妻子和孩子，誰在他的悲傷哭泣和歡呼他的喜悅。哦，多麼幸福，我應該是我可以改變我的存在和位置跟他在一起，並通過生活與他的謙遜期待和希望！是的，他的確是幸福比我。“

在這一刻守望再次成為守望的人。具有通過財富的goloshes，傳遞到中尉的存在，並發現比他預期自己少心滿意足，他更喜歡他以前的狀態，並再次希望自己是一個守望者。“這是一個醜陋的夢想，”他說，“但也足夠滑稽。在我看來，就好像我是中尉了那邊，但是沒有幸福了吧。我想念我的妻子和孩子，誰是隨時準備扼殺我，親吻。“他又坐了下來，點點頭，但他卻無法得到夢想出他的想法，他仍然對他的腳goloshes。一顆流星閃閃發光在天空中。“那還有一個！”他喊道。“不過，也有相當足夠的離開; 我非常喜歡研究這些有點接近，尤其是月亮，根據一個人的手中，可能不會溜走。學生，對他們來說，我的妻子洗，說，當我們死了，我們會從一星級飛到另一個。如果這是真的，那將是非常令人愉快的，但我不相信它。我希望我可以做一個小彈簧在那裡了; 我會心甘情願地讓我的身體躺在這裡的台階上。“

有在世界上的某些東西應該非常謹慎地說出; 加倍所以當揚聲器在他的腳下財富的goloshes。現在，我們應當聽取所發生的守望。

幾乎每一個是熟悉蒸汽的巨大力量; 我們已經通過它我們可以旅行，無論在鐵路或渡海輪船的快速性證明了這一點。但這樣的速度是一樣的樹懶的運動，或蝸牛的爬行行軍，較迅捷與光的傳播; 光飛逝比輕捷比賽馬快1900萬次，電是更快速的仍。死亡是觸電，我們在收到我們的心，和對電力的翅膀被解放的靈魂飛走了迅速，來自太陽的光傳播到我們的地球95百萬英里只需八分鐘，幾秒鐘; 但上電的翅膀，頭腦只需要一個第二完成同樣的距離。天體之間的空間，思想，沒有超出我們有可能從一個朋友家步行到另一個在同一個鎮的距離; 但這種電擊迫使我們用我們的身體在這裡下的，除非，像守望，我們對財富的goloshes。

在極少數秒鐘守望曾前往多200000英里月球，這是比我們的地球更輕的材料製成，並且可以說是柔軟如新下的雪。他發現自己在圓山範圍內，我們看到在梅德勒博士的大月亮的地圖為代表之一。內部有一個大的空洞的出現，碗型，具有深度約從帽沿半英里。在這個空心放著一個大鎮; 我們可能會形成其外觀澆雞蛋白成一杯水的一些想法。它始建它的材料看起來就像柔軟，並描繪出來陰天砲塔和船帆般的梯田，非常透明，漂浮在空氣稀薄的。我們的地球掛在他的頭上像一個巨大的暗紅色球。目前，他發現了許多眾生，這可能絕對可以稱得上是男性，但非常不同的自己。更荒誕的想像力比赫歇爾的一定是發現了這些。如果他們被安置在群體，並塗上，它可能已表示，他們有“多麼漂亮的葉子！”也是他們自己的語言。沒有人能夠預料的守望者的靈魂去了解它，但他也明白，我們的靈魂有更大的能力，那麼我們傾向於相信。我們不是在我們的夢想，展現出美妙的戲劇天賦？我們的每一個熟人在我們看來，然後在自己的性格，用他自己的聲音; 因此，沒有人能模仿他們在他醒著的時間。如何清楚，也提醒我們，我們還沒有看到誰了多年的人; 他們開始了突然腦中浮現的所有特殊性的生活現實。事實上，靈魂的這種記憶是一個可怕的事情; 一切的罪，每罪以為它可以帶回的，我們可能會問：我們如何能夠交賬“每一個空閒的詞”可能已在嘀咕心臟或說出的嘴唇。因此，守望的精神非常理解月球居民的語言。他們爭論關於我們的地球，並懷疑它是否能夠居住。這裡的氣氛，他們斷言，一定是太密集了月亮的任何居民存在那裡。他們認為，單是月球有人居住，並且是真正的天體，其中舊世界的人居住的地方。他們也談論政治。

但是現在，我們將下降到東大街，看看發生了什麼事守望的身體。他在台階上坐了無生氣。他的工作人員已經下降了他的手，他的眼睛盯著月亮，對此他誠實的靈魂徘徊。

“這是什麼時許，看守員？”詢問乘客。但沒有從守望答案。

該名男子隨後拉著他的鼻子輕輕的，這使他失去了平衡。身體向前倒下，並在全長躺在地上像死了一樣。

他所有的同志們非常害怕，因為他似乎很死; 他們仍然讓他留他們給了什麼事通知後; 並在黎明的屍體被抬到了醫院。我們可以想像它是沒有開玩笑事情，如果人的靈魂應該有機會回到他身邊，因為很可能會尋求身在東大街，卻無法找到它。我們可能看中的靈魂詢問警方，或在地址處，或中失踪的包裹，然後在長度發現它在醫院。但我們可以安慰自己的把握靈魂，在它自己的衝動行事時，是明智的比我們; 它是使愚蠢的身體。

正如我們已經說過，守望的屍體被送到了醫院，在這裡它被放置在一個房間裡洗。當然，在這裡做的第一件事就是脫下goloshes，在其中的靈魂被瞬間被迫返回，並且它採取了直接通往身體一次，並在幾秒鐘之人的生命歸還給他。他宣稱，當他徹底恢復自己，這已經是最可怕的晚上，他曾經通過; 不是一百斤他會經歷這樣的感受了。然而，這一切都結束了。

在同一天，他被允許離開，但goloshes依然在醫院。

The Eventful Moment—a Most Unusual Journey

VERY inhabitant of Copenhagen knows what the entrance to Frederick’s Hospital is like; but as most probably a few of those who read this little tale may not reside in Copenhagen, we will give a short description of it.

The hospital is separated from the street by an iron railing, in which the bars stand so wide apart that, it is said, some very slim patients have squeezed through, and gone to pay little visits in the town. The most difficult part of the body to get through was the head; and in this case, as it often happens in the world, the small heads were the most fortunate. This will serve as sufficient introduction to our tale. One of the young volunteers, of whom, physically speaking, it might be said that he had a great head, was on guard that evening at the hospital. The rain was pouring down, yet, in spite of these two obstacles, he wanted to go out just for a quarter of an hour; it was not worth while, he thought, to make a confidant of the porter, as he could easily slip through the iron railings. There lay the goloshes, which the watchman had forgotten. It never occurred to him that these could be goloshes of Fortune. They would be very serviceable to him in this rainy weather, so he drew them on. Now came the question whether he could squeeze through the palings; he certainly had never tried, so he stood looking at them. “I wish to goodness my head was through,” said he, and instantly, though it was so thick and large, it slipped through quite easily. The goloshes answered that purpose very well, but his body had to follow, and this was impossible. “I am too fat,” he said; “I thought my head would be the worst, but I cannot get my body through, that is certain.” Then he tried to pull his head back again, but without success; he could move his neck about easily enough, and that was all. His first feeling was one of anger, and then his spirits sank below zero. The goloshes of Fortune had placed him in this terrible position, and unfortunately it never occurred to him to wish himself free. No, instead of wishing he kept twisting about, yet did not stir from the spot. The rain poured, and not a creature could be seen in the street. The porter’s bell he was unable to reach, and however was he to get loose! He foresaw that he should have to stay there till morning, and then they must send for a smith to file away the iron bars, and that would be a work of time. All the charity children would just be going to school: and all the sailors who inhabited that quarter of the town would be there to see him standing in the pillory. What a crowd there would be. “Ha,” he cried, “the blood is rushing to my head, and I shall go mad. I believe I am crazy already; oh, I wish I were free, then all these sensations would pass off.” This is just what he ought to have said at first. The moment he had expressed the thought his head was free. He started back, quite bewildered with the fright which the goloshes of Fortune had caused him. But we must not suppose it was all over; no, indeed, there was worse to come yet. The night passed, and the whole of the following day; but no one sent for the goloshes. In the evening a declamatory performance was to take place at the amateur theatre in a distant street. The house was crowded; among the audience was the young volunteer from the hospital, who seemed to have quite forgotten his adventures of the previous evening. He had on the goloshes; they had not been sent for, and as the streets were still very dirty, they were of great service to him. A new poem, entitled “My Aunt’s Spectacles,” was being recited. It described these spectacles as possessing a wonderful power; if any one put them on in a large assembly the people appeared like cards, and the future events of ensuing years could be easily foretold by them. The idea struck him that he should very much like to have such a pair of spectacles; for, if used rightly, they would perhaps enable him to see into the hearts of people, which he thought would be more interesting than to know what was going to happen next year; for future events would be sure to show themselves, but the hearts of people never. “I can fancy what I should see in the whole row of ladies and gentlemen on the first seat, if I could only look into their hearts; that lady, I imagine, keeps a store for things of all descriptions; how my eyes would wander about in that collection; with many ladies I should no doubt find a large millinery establishment. There is another that is perhaps empty, and would be all the better for cleaning out. There may be some well stored with good articles. Ah, yes,” he sighed, “I know one, in which everything is solid, but a servant is there already, and that is the only thing against it. I dare say from many I should hear the words, ‘Please to walk in.’ I only wish I could slip into the hearts like a little tiny thought.” This was the word of command for the goloshes. The volunteer shrunk up together, and commenced a most unusual journey through the hearts of the spectators in the first row. The first heart he entered was that of a lady, but he thought he must have got into one of the rooms of an orthopedic institution where plaster casts of deformed limbs were hanging on the walls, with this difference, that the casts in the institution are formed when the patient enters, but here they were formed and preserved after the good people had left. These were casts of the bodily and mental deformities of the lady’s female friends carefully preserved. Quickly he passed into another heart, which had the appearance of a spacious, holy church, with the white dove of innocence fluttering over the altar. Gladly would he have fallen on his knees in such a sacred place; but he was carried on to another heart, still, however, listening to the tones of the organ, and feeling himself that he had become another and a better man. The next heart was also a sanctuary, which he felt almost unworthy to enter; it represented a mean garret, in which lay a sick mother; but the warm sunshine streamed through the window, lovely roses bloomed in a little flowerbox on the roof, two blue birds sang of childlike joys, and the sick mother prayed for a blessing on her daughter. Next he crept on his hands and knees through an overfilled butcher’s shop; there was meat, nothing but meat, wherever he stepped; this was the heart of a rich, respectable man, whose name is doubtless in the directory. Then he entered the heart of this man’s wife; it was an old, tumble-down pigeon-house; the husband’s portrait served as a weather-cock; it was connected with all the doors, which opened and shut just as the husband’s decision turned. The next heart was a complete cabinet of mirrors, such as can be seen in the Castle of Rosenberg. But these mirrors magnified in an astonishing degree; in the middle of the floor sat, like the Grand Lama, the insignificant I of the owner, astonished at the contemplation of his own features. At his next visit he fancied he must have got into a narrow needlecase, full of sharp needles: “Oh,” thought he, “this must be the heart of an old maid;” but such was not the fact; it belonged to a young officer, who wore several orders, and was said to be a man of intellect and heart.

The poor volunteer came out of the last heart in the row quite bewildered. He could not collect his thoughts, and imagined his foolish fancies had carried him away. “Good gracious!” he sighed, “I must have a tendency to softening of the brain, and here it is so exceedingly hot that the blood is rushing to my head.” And then suddenly recurred to him the strange event of the evening before, when his head had been fixed between the iron railings in front of the hospital. “That is the cause of it all!” he exclaimed, “I must do something in time. A Russian bath would be a very good thing to begin with. I wish I were lying on one of the highest shelves.” Sure enough, there he lay on an upper shelf of a vapor bath, still in his evening costume, with his boots and goloshes on, and the hot drops from the ceiling falling on his face. “Ho!” he cried, jumping down and rushing towards the plunging bath. The attendant stopped him with a loud cry, when he saw a man with all his clothes on. The volunteer had, 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 a large blister on his neck, and another on his back, that his crazy fit might be cured. The next morning his back was very sore, which was all he gained by the goloshes of Fortune.

多事的時刻 - 一個最不尋常之旅

非常哥本哈根的居民知道的入口處，弗雷德里克醫院是等; 但最有可能的幾個那些誰讀這個小故事可能並非居住在哥本哈根，我們會給它一個簡短的描述。

這家醫院是從街道隔開的鐵欄杆，其中棒站得那麼寬分開，它是說，一些很渺茫患者通過擠壓，去支付在鎮上的小訪問。身體打通最困難的部分是頭; 在這種情況下，因為它經常發生在世界上，小頭是最幸運的。這將作為充分地介紹我們的故事。其中一個青年志願者，其中，物理上講，它可能會說，他有一個很大的頭，是防範那天晚上在醫院。雨水被傾瀉而下，然而，儘管這兩個障礙，他想出去只是一刻鐘的; 這是不值得的，他想，讓看門的親信，因為他可以透過鐵欄杆容易打滑。有打好goloshes，這守望已經忘了。它從來沒有發生在他身上，這可能是財富的goloshes。他們將是非常耐用，以他在這個多雨的天氣，所以他畫了他們。現在來到的問題，他是否能擠過圍籬; 他肯定從來沒有嘗試過，所以他站在那裡看著他們。“我希望我的善良的頭是通過，”他說，瞬間，雖然它是那麼厚，大，它通過滑很容易。該goloshes回答說，目的很清楚，但他的身體不得不跟隨，而這是不可能的。“我太胖了，”他說; “我想我的頭會是最差的，但我不能打通我的身體，這是肯定的。”說完，他試圖回來拉他的頭，但沒有成功; 他可以移動他的脖子容易左右就夠了，僅此而已。他的第一感覺是憤怒中的一個，然後他的精神沉沒零度以下。財富的goloshes已經把他在這個可怕的位置，遺憾的是它從來沒有想過他希望自己獲得了自由。不，不是希望他不停地扭動一下，但並沒有從現場攪拌。大雨傾盆，而不是一個生物可以在大街上可以看到。看門的鐘聲，他無法達成，但是和他是拿到松了！他預見到，他應該有呆在那裡，直到早上，然後他們必須發送一個鐵匠提交了鐵棒，這將是時間的工作。所有的兒童慈善機構也只是去上學：和所有誰居住的季鎮的水手們會在那裡看到他站在恥辱柱。哪些人群會有。“哈，”他喊道，“血都搶著到我的頭上，我會發瘋。我相信我已經瘋了; 哦，我希望我是自由的，那麼所有的這些感覺會通過了。“這正是他應該先說。他曾表示，想到此刻他的頭是免費的。他開始回來了，很迷惑與財富的goloshes造成了他的恐懼。但我們不能假設一切都結束了; 不，事實上，還有更糟糕的事情呢。夜晚過去了，整個翌日; 但沒人送的goloshes。到了晚上一個慷慨激昂的表現是發生在一個遙遠的街道業餘劇團。房子被擁擠; 其中的觀眾是年輕的志願者從醫院，誰似乎已經完全忘記了前一天晚上他的冒險。他對goloshes; 他們沒有被送去，並作為街道仍然很髒，他們是偉大的服務給他。一種新的詩，題為“姨媽的眼鏡，”正在背誦。它描述了這些眼鏡作為一個擁有神奇的力量; 如果任何一個把它們放在一個大集會的人出現了樣卡，以及隨後幾年的未來事件可能被他們輕易地預言。這個想法擊中了他，他應該非常希望能有這樣一副眼鏡; 為，如果使用正確，他們或許會令他能夠看透的人，他以為會是更有趣的比知道發生了什麼事情會發生在明年的心; 對於未來事件的將來一定會本身，而是人的心永遠不會顯示。“我能看上我什麼紳士淑女的整個行中應該看到的第一個座位上，如果我只能看看他們的心中; 那位女士，我想，保持一個商店形形色色的事物; 我的眼睛會怎樣徜徉在該集合; 有很多女士，我應該毫無疑問，發現一個大女帽成立。還有另一種可能是空的，並會就更好了清理出來。可能有一些好儲存好文章。啊，是的，“他嘆了口氣，”我知道的，在這一切是實心的，而是一個僕人已經存在，那就是反對它的唯一的事。我敢說很多，我應該聽到的話，'請走了。' 我只希望我能滑進心裡好像有點小小的想法。“這是命令字為goloshes。志願者縮水了一起，並開始通過第一行的觀眾心中最不尋常的旅程。他進入了第一次心臟是一個女人，但他想他一定鑽進的骨科機構在變形的肢體石膏模型被掛在牆壁上，與此不同的房間之一，在該機構的強制轉換有形成當病人進入，但在這裡，它們形成和保存好的人離開後。這些都是身體和夫人的女性朋友精心保存的心理畸形的類型轉換。他很快傳遞到另一個心臟，它有一個寬敞的，神聖的教堂外觀，用純真飄飄的白色鴿子在祭壇上。勤於他已經在這樣一個神聖的地方落在他的膝蓋; 但他攜帶到另一個心臟，儘管如此，但是，聽器官的色調，感覺自己，他已經成為另一個更好的男人。接下來的心臟也是一個避難所，他感覺幾乎不配進入; 它代表的意思閣樓，在裡面躺著一個生病的母親; 但溫暖的陽光透過窗戶流，開在屋頂上的一個小花盒可愛的玫瑰，兩個藍色的鳥唱孩童般的歡樂，和生病的母親祈求她的女兒的祝福。接著，他躡手躡腳在他的手和膝蓋透過滿溢的肉店; 有肉，不過肉，無論他踩; 這是一個豐富的，可敬的人，他的名字無疑是該目錄中的心臟。然後，他進入了這個男人的妻子的心臟; 這是一個古老的，搖搖欲墜的鴿子屋; 丈夫的肖像曾擔任天氣公雞; 它與所有的門，而打開和關閉，就像丈夫的決定，開啟已連接。接下來的心臟是鏡子的完整內閣，如能在羅森堡城堡可以看出。但這些鏡子放大了驚人的程度; 在地板中間坐著，像大喇嘛，主人的微不足道的我，驚訝於他自己的特點的沉思。在他下次訪問他幻想他一定鑽進狹窄的needlecase，充滿尖銳的針頭：“哦，”他想，“這必須是一個老女僕的心臟，”但事實並非事實; 它屬於一個年輕的軍官，誰穿幾個數量級，而且被說成是智慧和心臟的人。

可憐的志願者來到了最後心臟很莫名其妙的行中。他無法收集他的想法，和他想像的愚蠢幻想過他帶走。“天哪！”他嘆了口氣，“我必須有腦軟化的傾向，在這裡它是如此極為火熱的血液都搶著到我的頭上。”然後才突然復發，他的怪事件日晚，當他的頭一直在醫院門口固定的鐵欄杆之間。“這就是這一切的原因！”他喊道，“我必須做一些事時。一名俄羅斯浴將開始與一個非常好的事情。我希望我是躺在貨架上最高的之一。“果然，在那裡，他躺在一個蒸氣浴的貨架上，仍然在他晚上的服裝，用他的靴子和goloshes上，而熱滴從天花板上落下他的臉。“嗬！”他喊道，跳躍下來，衝到暴跌洗澡。服務員攔住了他一個響亮的哭聲，當他看到一個人用他所有的衣服上。志願者已經，但是，心夠耳語的存在，“這是一個賭注，”但他做的第一件事，當他到達自己的房間，是把一個大水泡在他的脖子上，另一個在他的背上，他甩脂可能被治愈。第二天早上，他的背部非常疼痛，這是他所有財富的goloshes上漲。

The Clerk’s Transformation

HE watchman, whom we of course have not forgotten, thought, after a 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 in the street could recognize them as their own, so he gave them up to the police. “They look exactly like my own goloshes,” said one of the clerks, examining the unknown articles, as they stood by the side of his own. “It would require even more than the eye of a shoemaker to know one pair from the other.”

“Master clerk,” said a servant who entered with some papers. The clerk turned and spoke to the man; but when he had done with him, he turned to look at the goloshes again, and now he was in greater doubt than ever as to whether the pair on the right or on the left belonged to him. “Those that are wet must be mine,” thought he; but he thought wrong, it was just the reverse. The goloshes of Fortune were the wet pair; and, besides, why should not a clerk in a police office be wrong sometimes? So he drew them on, thrust his papers into his pocket, placed a few manuscripts under his arm, which he had to take with him, and to make abstracts from at home. Then, as it 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 this clerk. We will not grudge him this little walk, it was just the thing to do him good after sitting so much. He went on at first like a mere automaton, without thought or wish; therefore the goloshes had no opportunity to display their magic power. In the avenue he met with an acquaintance, one of our young poets, who told him that he intended to start on the following day on a summer excursion. “Are you really going 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 the foot.”

“But it is fastened to the bread-tree,” replied the poet. “You need have no anxiety for the morrow; and when you are old there is a pension for you.”

“Ah, yes; but you have the best of it,” said the clerk; “it must be so delightful to sit and write poetry. The whole world makes itself agreeable to you, and then you are your own master. You should try how you would like to listen to all the trivial things in a court of justice.” The poet shook his head, so also did the clerk; each retained his own opinion, and so they parted. “They are strange people, these poets,” thought the clerk. “I should like to try what it is to have a poetic taste, and to become a poet myself. I am sure I should not write such mournful verses as they do. This is a splendid spring day for a poet, the air is so remarkably clear, the clouds are so beautiful, and the green grass has such a sweet smell. For many years I have not felt as I do at this moment.”

We perceive, by these remarks, that he had already become a poet. By most poets what he had said would be considered common-place, or as the Germans call it, “insipid.” It is a foolish fancy to look upon poets as different to other men. There are many who are more the poets of nature than those who are professed poets. The difference is this, the poet’s intellectual memory is better; he seizes upon an idea or a sentiment, until he can embody it, clearly and plainly in words, which the others cannot do. But the transition from a character of every-day life to one of a more gifted nature is a great transition; and so the clerk became aware of the change after a time. “What a delightful perfume,” said he; “it reminds me of the violets 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 old maiden lady! she lived yonder, behind the Exchange. She always had a sprig or a few blossoms in water, let the winter be ever so severe. I could smell the violets, even while I was placing warm penny pieces against the frozen panes to make peep-holes, and a pretty view it was on which I peeped. Out in the river lay the ships, icebound, and forsaken by their crews; a screaming crow represented the only living creature on board. But when the breezes of spring came, everything started into life. Amidst shouting and cheers the ships were tarred and rigged, and then they sailed to foreign lands.”

“I remain here, and always shall remain, sitting at my post at the police office, and letting others take passports to distant lands. Yes, this is my fate,” and he sighed deeply. Suddenly he paused. “Good gracious, what has come over me? I never felt before as I do now; it must be the air of spring. It is overpowering, and yet it is delightful.”

He felt in his pockets for some of his papers. “These will give me something else to think of,” said he. Casting his eyes on the first page of one, he read, “‘Mistress Sigbirth; an original Tragedy, in Five Acts.’ What is this?—in my own handwriting, too! Have I written this tragedy?” He read again, “‘The Intrigue on the Promenade; or, the Fast-Day. A Vaudeville.’ However did I get all this? Some one must have put them into my pocket. And here is a letter!” It was from the manager of a theatre; the pieces were rejected, not at all in polite terms.

“Hem, hem!” said he, sitting down on a bench; his thoughts were very elastic, and his heart softened strangely. Involuntarily he seized one of the nearest flowers; it was a little, simple daisy. All that botanists can say in many lectures was explained in a moment by this little flower. It spoke of the glory of its birth; it told of the strength of the sunlight, which had caused its delicate leaves to expand, and given to it such sweet perfume. The struggles of life which arouse sensations in the bosom have their type in the tiny flowers. Air and light are the lovers of the flowers, but light is the favored one; towards light it turns, and only when light vanishes does it fold its leaves together, and sleep in the embraces of 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 marshy ditch. The water-drops spurted up among the green twigs, and the clerk thought of the millions of animalculae which were thrown into the air with every drop of water, at a height which must be the same to them as it would be to us if we were hurled beyond the clouds. As the clerk thought of all these things, and became conscious of the great change in his own feelings, he smiled, and said to himself, “I must be asleep and dreaming; and yet, if so, how wonderful for a dream to be so natural and real, and to know at the same time too that it is but a dream. I hope I shall be able to remember it all when I wake tomorrow. My sensations seem most unaccountable. I have a clear perception of everything as if I were wide awake. I am quite sure if I recollect all this tomorrow, it will appear utterly ridiculous and absurd. I have had this happen to me before. It is with the clever or wonderful things we say or hear in dreams, as with the gold which comes from under the earth, it is rich and beautiful when we possess it, but when seen in a true light it is but as stones and withered leaves.”

“Ah!” he sighed mournfully, as he gazed at the birds singing merrily, or hopping from branch to branch, “they are much better off than I. Flying is a glorious power. Happy is he who is born with wings. Yes, if I could change myself into anything I would be a little lark.” At the same moment his coat-tails and sleeves grew together and formed wings, his clothes changed to feathers, and his goloshes to claws. 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 wild dream 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 left him. 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 this change 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 a lark, flying about in the gardens of Fredericksburg. Really a complete comedy could be written about it.” Then he flew down into the grass, turned his head about in every direction, and tapped his beak on the bending blades of grass, which, in proportion to his size, seemed to him as long as the palm-leaves in northern Africa.

In another moment all was darkness around him. It seemed as if something immense had been thrown over him. A sailor boy had flung his large cap over the bird, and a hand came underneath and caught the clerk by the back and wings so roughly, that he squeaked, and then cried out in his alarm, “You impudent rascal, I am a clerk in the police-office!” but it only sounded to the boy like “tweet, tweet;” so he tapped the bird on the beak, and walked away with him. In the avenue he met two school-boys, who appeared to belong to a better class of society, but whose inferior abilities kept them in the lowest class at school. These boys bought the bird for eightpence, and so the clerk returned to Copenhagen. “It is well for me that I am dreaming,” he thought; “otherwise I should become really angry. First I was a poet, and now I am a lark. It must have been the poetic nature that changed me into this little creature. It is a miserable story indeed, especially now I have fallen into the hands of boys. I wonder what will be the end of it.” The boys carried him into a very elegant room, where a stout, pleasant-looking lady received them, but she was not at all gratified to find that they had brought a lark—a common field-bird as she called it. However, she allowed them for one day to place the bird in an empty cage that hung near the window. “It will please Polly perhaps,” she said, laughing at a large gray parrot, who was swinging himself proudly on a ring in a handsome brass cage. “It is Polly’s birthday,” she added in a simpering tone, “and the little field-bird has come to offer his congratulations.”

Polly did not answer a single word, he continued to swing proudly to and fro; but a beautiful canary, who had been brought from his own warm, fragrant fatherland, the summer previous, began to sing as loud as he could.

“You screamer!” said the lady, throwing a white handkerchief over the cage.

“Tweet, tweet,” sighed he, “what a dreadful snowstorm!” and then he became silent.

The clerk, or as the lady called him the field-bird, was placed in a little cage close to the canary, and not far from the parrot. The only human speech which Polly could utter, and which she sometimes chattered forth most comically, was “Now let us be men.” All besides was a scream, quite as unintelligible as the warbling of the canary-bird, excepting to the clerk, who being now a bird, could understand his comrades very well.

“I flew beneath green palm-trees, and amidst the blooming almond-trees,” sang the canary. “I flew with my brothers and sisters over beautiful flowers, and across the clear, bright sea, which reflected the waving foliage in its glittering depths; and I have seen many gay parrots, who could relate long and delightful stories.”

“They were wild birds,” answered the parrot, “and totally uneducated. Now let us be men. Why do you not laugh? If the lady and her visitors can laugh at this, surely you can. It is a great failing not to be able to appreciate what is amusing. Now let us be men.”

“Do you remember,” said the canary, “the pretty maidens who used to dance in the tents that were spread out beneath the sweet blossoms? Do you remember the delicious fruit and the cooling juice from the wild herbs?”

“Oh, yes,” said the parrot; “but here I am much better off. I am well fed, and treated politely. I know that I have a clever head; and what more do I want? Let us be men now. You have a soul for poetry. I have deep knowledge and wit. You have genius, but no discretion. You raise your naturally high notes so much, that you get covered over. They never serve me so. Oh, no; I cost them something more than you. I keep them in order with my beak, and fling my wit about me. Now let us be men.”

“O my warm, blooming fatherland,” sang the canary bird, “I will sing of thy dark-green trees and thy quiet streams, where the bending branches kiss the clear, smooth water. I will sing of the joy of my brothers and sisters, as their shining plumage flits among the dark leaves of the plants which grow wild by the springs.”

“Do leave off those dismal strains,” said the parrot; “sing something to make us laugh; laughter is the sign of the highest order of intellect. Can a dog or a horse laugh? No, they can cry; but to man alone is the power of laughter given. Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Polly, and repeated his witty saying, “Now let us be men.”

“You little gray Danish bird,” said the canary, “you also have become a prisoner. It is certainly cold in your forests, but still there is liberty there. Fly out! they have forgotten to close the cage, and the window is open at the top. Fly, fly!”

Instinctively, the clerk obeyed, and left the cage; at the same moment the half-opened door leading into the next room creaked on its hinges, and, stealthily, with green fiery eyes, the cat crept in and chased the lark round the room. The canary-bird fluttered in his cage, and the parrot flapped his wings and cried, “Let us be men;” the poor clerk, in the most deadly terror, flew through the window, over the houses, and through the streets, till at length he was obliged to seek a resting-place. A house opposite to him had a look of home. A window stood open; he flew in, and perched upon the table. It was his own room. “Let us be men now,” said he, involuntarily imitating the parrot; and at the same moment he became a clerk again, only that he was sitting on the table. “Heaven preserve us!” said he; “How did I get up here and fall asleep in this way? It was an uneasy dream too that I had. The whole affair appears most absurd.”

秘書的轉型

何守望的人，我們當然沒有忘記，想了想，過了一會兒，他發現並送往醫院goloshes的; 於是他就去拿來他們。但無論是中尉，也不在街上任何一個都可能承認他們是自己的，所以他任憑他們報了警。“他們看起來就像我自己的goloshes，說：”文員之一，研究未知的文章，因為他們站在自己的一邊。“這將需要比一個鞋匠的眼睛更從其他知道的一對。”

“師父店員，說：”誰進入了一些論文的僕人。店員轉身說話的人; 但是當他跟他做了，他把目光轉向了goloshes一遍，現在他比以往任何時候都更大的疑問，這對右側或左側是否屬於他。“那些都是濕的一定是我的，”他想; 但他認為錯了，這是正好相反。財富的goloshes是濕對; ，此外，為什麼不應該在警察辦公室的文員是錯誤的，有時？於是，他畫了他們，推他的文件塞進口袋，放一些手稿在他的手臂，他不得不採取與他，從在家裡做摘要。然後，因為它是星期天的早晨，天氣很細，他對自己說，“一個步行到弗雷德里克斯堡會做我的好：”這麼遠，他去了。

不可能有一個更安靜或更穩定的年輕人比這個店員。我們不會吝惜他這個小遙，這只是事情坐了這麼多後，他做的很好。他接著在第一次像一個單純的自動機，沒有思想或願望; 因此goloshes沒有機會施展魔力。在林蔭道上，他遇到了一個熟人，我們年輕的詩人之一，誰告訴他，他打算開始於翌日在夏天遊覽。“你真的要離開這麼快？”問店員。“你是一個自由，快樂的人。你可以漫遊在哪裡你會，而如我們通過腳捆綁“。

“但它是固定在麵包樹，回答說：”詩人。“你不用焦慮的明天; 當你老了有退休金給你。“

“啊，是的; 但你有最好的了吧，“店員說; “那一定是這麼清新脫俗了坐下來寫詩。整個世界，使自己認同你，然後你是你自己的主人。你應該嘗試，你會如何想聽聽正義的法院所有瑣碎的事情“詩人搖了搖頭，所以也做店員。每個保留自己的意見，於是他們分道揚鑣。“他們都是奇怪的人，這些詩人”，認為店員。“我想試試它是有一個詩意的味道，而成為一個詩人自己。我確信，我不應該寫這樣的詩句悲切，因為他們做。這是一個燦爛的春天的詩人，空氣是那麼明顯清晰，雲是如此美麗，綠色的草有這樣一個甜蜜的氣味。多年來，我並沒有覺得像我這樣在這一刻。“

我們認為，這些言論，他已經成為一名詩人。大多數詩人他所說的話將被視為共到位，或因為德國稱之為“平淡。”這是一個愚蠢的幻覺看待詩人不同的其他人。有很多誰是大自然的更多詩人誰比那些自稱是詩人。所不同的是這一點，詩人的智慧內存是更好的; 他抓住後，一個想法或情緒，直到他能體現它，清楚明白地在口頭上，而別人不能做。但是，從每一天的生活中一個字符到一個更優的性質的一個過渡是一個很好的過渡; 所以店員一段時間後，發覺了變化。“多麼令人愉快的香水，”他說。“它讓我想起了紫羅蘭的阿姨勞拉的的我。啊，那是當我還是一個小男孩。親愛的我，多久，似乎因為我想那些日子！她是一個很好的舊少女淑女！她住那邊，外匯後面。她總是有水小枝或幾個花朵，讓冬天是歷來如此嚴重。我可以聞到紫羅蘭，甚至當我把溫暖一分錢片對凍結的窗格，使窺視孔，和一個漂亮的景色是在我偷看。在河裡躺著的船舶，冰封，並通過船員離棄; 尖叫的烏鴉代表船上唯一的活物。但是，當春天的微風來了，一切開始進入生活。在一片吶喊和歡呼聲的船被柏油和操縱，然後他們航行到外國的土地上。“

“我仍然在這裡，始終應保持，坐在我的崗位在警察辦公室，並讓別人拿護照到遙遠的國度。是的，這是我的命運“，他深深地嘆了一口氣。突然，他停頓了一下。“天哪，什麼來著我？我從來沒有感受過的，因為我現在做的; 它必須是彈簧的空氣。這是壓倒性的，但它是令人愉快的。“

他覺得在他的口袋，他的一些論文。“這些都會給我別的事情要考慮的，”他說。鑄造他的一隻眼睛的第一頁上，他寫著：“'女主人Sigbirth; 原來的悲劇，在五行為“。這是什麼？，在我自己的筆跡，太！我已經寫了這個悲劇“他看了一遍，”'陰謀的長廊; 或者，在快速天。雜耍“。但是我沒有得到這一切？一些人必須把它們放進我的口袋裡。這裡是一個字母“這是從一個劇場的經理！; 件被拒絕，而不是在所有的禮貌用語。

！“哼，”他說，坐在長椅上; 他的想法是非常有彈性，而且他的心臟奇怪的軟化。他不由自主地抓住就近的花朵之一; 它是一個小的，簡單的菊花。所有的植物學家可以在許多演講說，在某一時刻由這朵小花解釋。它談到其誕生的榮耀; 它告訴了太陽光的強度，這造成了其精緻的葉子擴大，並賦予這種甜美的香水。生活的喚起的感覺在胸中的鬥爭具有其類型的小花朵。空氣和光線都是花的戀人，但燈是天之驕子; 對輕事實證明，只有當光吹跑它折疊它的葉子在一起，並在空中的擁抱睡覺。“

“這是光點綴了我，”花說。

“但是空氣給你生命的氣息，”低聲的詩人。

只是他面前站著一個男孩，用他的棍子在沼澤溝濺。水滴噴了綠色的樹枝間，和店員以為數以百萬計animalculae哪個被拋到空中的每一滴水，在一個高度，這將是我們這必須是相同的，對他們被投擲超越雲層。由於店員想到這些事情，並成為自覺的在自己的感情的巨大變化，他笑了笑，自言自語地說，“我一定是睡著了，在做夢; 可是，如果是的話，多麼美妙的夢想是那麼的自然和真實的，要知道，同時也認為它不過是一個夢。我希望我能記住這一切都是我明天醒來。我感覺似乎最不負責任的。我有一個明確的看法的一切，好像我是很清醒。我敢肯定，如果我記得這一切明天，它會出現非常荒謬的，荒謬的。我以前曾經有過這發生在我身上。它與我們說什麼或聽到的夢想，與它來自地底下的黃金，它是豐富而美麗的，當我們擁有它的聰明和美好的事情，但是當在真光看到它，但如石頭和枯萎離開“。

“啊！”他悲哀地嘆了口氣，他凝視著鳥兒歡快地歌唱，或跳躍從分支到分支，“他們是好得多比我飛是一個光榮的力量。快樂是誰，他是天生的翅膀。是的，如果我可以改變我自己做任何事，我會一點點雲雀。“在同一時刻他的外套，尾巴和袖子一起成長，形成翅膀，他的衣服改成的羽毛，和他goloshes到爪子。他覺得有什麼正在發生，並且笑自己。“好了，現在很明顯我一定是在做夢; 但我從來沒有過這樣一個夢野不過的了。“然後他飛上了綠色樹枝和唱歌，但沒有詩歌中的歌曲，他的詩性已經離開了他。該goloshes，像所有誰願意徹底做一件事的人，只能參加一件事的時間。他希望成為一個詩人，他結為一體。然後，他想成為一隻小鳥，並在這種變化，他失去了前者的特點。“好吧，”他想，“這是迷人的; 白天我坐在警察辦公室，躋身dryest法律論文，晚上總是夢見我是一隻雲雀，在弗雷德里克斯堡的花園飛來飛去。真是一個完整的喜劇可以寫一下吧。“說完，他立馬下到基層，轉過頭約在每一個方向，並拍了拍他的嘴在草地上的彎曲葉片，其中，按比例給他的尺寸，在他看來，作為只要掌葉在非洲北部。

再過一會兒一切都黑暗在他周圍。它彷彿巨大的東西被扔在他身上。一個水手男孩甩到他的大帽過小鳥，一隻手來到下方，抓住了店員的背部和翅膀大致如此，他尖叫，然後大叫他的報警，“你無恥的流氓，我是一個業務員！在警察辦公室“，但它只是聽起來那個男孩一樣”鳴叫，鳴叫，“所以他拍了拍喙的鳥，和他一起走了。在大街上，他遇到了兩個學校的男孩，誰似乎屬於一個更好的階級社會，但其低劣的能力使它們處於最低級的學校。這些男孩買鳥，八便士，所以店員回到了哥本哈根。“這是對我很好，我在做夢，”他想; “否則我應該成為真的生氣了。首先，我是一個詩人，現在我是一個雲雀。這一定是那個改變了我這個小傢伙的詩意本性。這是一個悲慘的故事的確，尤其是現在我已經陷入男孩的手中。我不知道會是怎樣的它的結束。“男孩把他變成一個非常優雅的客房，其中一個粗壯的，愉快的找小姐接待了他們，但她一點都高興地發現，他們隨身帶了雲雀，共同現場的鳥，她的說法。然而，她讓他們一天放置的鳥在掛在窗戶附近一個空籠子。“這將取悅波利也許，”她笑著說，在一個大的灰鸚鵡，誰是搖擺自己驕傲地在一個英俊的黃銅保持架環。“這是Polly的生日，”她補充說在傻笑口氣，“和小場的鳥已經提供他的祝賀。”

波利沒有回答一個字，他繼續驕傲地來回甩動; 但一個美麗的金絲雀，誰被帶到他自己的溫暖，芳香的祖國，夏天以前，就開始唱大聲，因為他可以。

“你尖叫！說：”小姐，扔一塊白手帕在籠子裡。

“鳴叫，鳴叫，”他嘆了口氣，“有什麼可怕的暴風雪！”然後他變得沉默。

店員，或作為女士稱他為現場的鳥，被安排在一個小籠子接近加納利，並從鸚鵡不遠處。唯一的人類語音的波莉可以說出，並且她有時喋喋不休提出最可笑，是“現在讓我們像一個人。”所有的除了是一聲尖叫，相當一樣不知所云的金絲雀鳥的啁啾，除給業務員，是誰現在一隻鳥，能理解他的戰友們非常好。

“我立馬綠色的棕櫚樹下，和一片盛開的杏仁樹，”唱的金絲雀。“我立馬跟我的兄弟姐妹在美麗的花朵，和整個清晰，明亮的大海，這體現在它的深處閃閃發光的揮舞著枝葉; 我曾經見過許多同性戀鸚鵡，誰可能涉及漫長而愉快的故事。“

“他們是野生鳥類，回答說：”鸚鵡“，完全沒有受過教育。現在，讓我們像一個人。你為什麼不笑？如果這位女士和她的遊客可以嘲笑這一點，你一定可以的。這是一個偉大的失敗不能夠體會到什麼是有趣的。現在，讓我們像一個人。“

“你還記得，說：”金絲雀“誰使用在被攤開甜蜜櫻花下的帳篷裡跳舞的漂亮少女？你還記得美味的水果和果汁冷卻從野生藥材？“

“哦，是的，說：”鸚鵡; “但我在這裡要好得多。我吃得飽飽的，並禮貌地對待。我知道，我有一個聰明的腦袋; 什麼更多的我想要什麼？讓我們像一個人吧。你有靈魂的詩歌。我有深刻的認識和機智。你有天才，但沒有決定權。你提高你的自然的高音這麼多，你得到蓋上。他們從來沒有為我這樣。噢，不; 我花費他們更多的東西比你多。我讓他們為了我的嘴，和我一扔機智關於我的。現在，讓我們像一個人。“

“啊，我的熱情，綻放的祖國”，唱的金絲雀，“我會唱你的暗綠色的樹木和你安靜的溪流，這裡的彎曲樹枝親吻清晰，流暢的水。我會唱我的兄弟姐妹的喜悅，因為他們的羽毛閃著掠過黑暗的葉子由彈簧自然生長的植物之一。“

“不要離開過那些令人沮喪的菌株，說：”鸚鵡; “唱的東西，使我們笑; 笑是智慧的最高階的符號。一隻狗或一匹馬能笑嗎？不，他們可以哭; 但單純的人是笑聲賦予的權力。哈！哈！哈哈！“笑波利，並重申了他的詼諧的說法，”現在讓我們像一個人。“

“你這個小灰丹麥小鳥”之稱的金絲雀，“你也已經淪為階下囚。這當然是在寒冷的森林，但仍然有自由在那裡。飛了出去！他們忘記關閉籠子，窗口打開頂部。飛吧，飛吧！“

本能地，店員服從了，並離開了籠子; 在同一時刻對半開的門通向隔壁房間作響在鉸鏈上，並悄悄地，綠色的火熱的目光，貓躡手躡腳的追趕雲雀圓了房間。金絲雀鳥飄揚在他的籠子裡，和鸚鵡拍著他的翅膀，叫道，“讓我們像一個人，”可憐的店員，在最致命的恐怖，立馬通過這個窗口，在房屋，並通過街道，直到在長，他不得不尋求安身之處。房子他的對面有一個家的樣子。一個窗口開著; 他飛到，並且在桌子上棲息。這是他自己的房間。“讓我們像一個人了，”他說，不由自主地模仿鸚鵡; 而在同一時刻，他成為了一名文員再次，只有他坐在桌子上。“！天堂保佑我們”，他說; “我怎麼到了這裡，而且以這種方式入睡？這是一個不安的夢太，我有。整個事件似乎最荒謬的。“

The Best Thing the Goloshes Did

ARLY on the following morning, while the clerk was still in bed, his neighbor, a young divinity student, who lodged on the same storey, knocked at his door, and then walked in. “Lend me your goloshes,” said he; “it is so wet in the garden, but the sun is shining brightly. I should like to go out there and smoke my pipe.” He put on the goloshes, and was soon in the garden, which contained only one plum-tree and one apple-tree; yet, in a town, even a small garden like this is a great advantage.

The student wandered up and down the path; it was just six o’clock, and he could hear the sound of the post-horn in the street. “Oh, to travel, to travel!” cried he; “there is no greater happiness in the world: it is the height of my ambition. This restless feeling would be stilled, if I could take a journey far away from this country. I should like to see beautiful Switzerland, to travel through Italy, and,”—It was well for him that the goloshes acted immediately, otherwise he might have been carried too far for himself as well as for us. In a moment he found himself in Switzerland, closely packed with eight others in the diligence. His head ached, his back was stiff, and the blood had ceased to circulate, so that his feet were swelled and pinched by his boots. He wavered in a condition between sleeping and waking. In his right-hand pocket he had a letter of credit; in his left-hand pocket was his passport; and a few louis d’ors were sewn into a little leather bag which he carried in his breast-pocket. Whenever he dozed, he dreamed that he had lost one or another of these possessions; then he would awake with a start, and the first movements of his hand formed a triangle from his right-hand pocket to his breast, and from his breast to his left-hand pocket, to feel whether they were all safe. Umbrellas, sticks, and hats swung in the net before him, and almost obstructed the prospect, which was really very imposing; and as he glanced at it, his memory recalled the words of one poet at least, who has sung of Switzerland, and whose poems have not yet been printed:—

“How lovely to my wondering eyes
Mont Blanc’s fair summits gently rise;
’Tis sweet to breathe the mountain air,—
If you have gold enough to spare.”

Grand, dark, and gloomy appeared the landscape around him. The pine-forests looked like little groups of moss on high rocks, whose summits were lost in clouds of mist. Presently it began to snow, and the wind blew keen and cold. “Ah,” he sighed, “if I were only on the other side of the Alps now, it would be summer, and I should be able to get money on my letter of credit. The anxiety I feel on this matter prevents me from enjoying myself in Switzerland. Oh, I wish I was on the other side of the Alps.”

And there, in a moment, he found himself, far away in the midst of Italy, between Florence and Rome, where the lake Thrasymene glittered in the evening sunlight like a sheet of molten gold between the dark blue mountains. There, where Hannibal defeated Flaminius, the grape vines clung to each other with the friendly grasp of their green tendril fingers; while, by the wayside, lovely half-naked children were watching a herd of coal-black swine under the blossoms of fragrant laurel. Could we rightly describe this picturesque scene, our readers would exclaim, “Delightful Italy!”

But neither the student nor either of his travelling companions felt the least inclination to think of it in this way. Poisonous flies and gnats flew into the coach by thousands. In vain they drove them away with a myrtle branch, the flies stung them notwithstanding. There was not a man in the coach whose face was not swollen and disfigured with the stings. The poor horses looked wretched; the flies settled on their backs in swarms, and they were only relieved when the coachmen got down and drove the creatures off.

As the sun set, an icy coldness filled all nature, not however of long duration. It produced the feeling which we experience when we enter a vault at a funeral, on a summer’s day; while the hills and the clouds put on that singular green hue which we often notice in old paintings, and look upon as unnatural until we have ourselves seen nature’s coloring in the south. It was a glorious spectacle; but the stomachs of the travellers were empty, their bodies exhausted with fatigue, and all the longings of their heart turned towards a resting-place for the night; but where to find one they knew not. All the eyes were too eagerly seeking for this resting-place, to notice the beauties of nature.

The road passed through a grove of olive-trees; it reminded the student of the willow-trees at home. Here stood a lonely inn, and close by it a number of crippled beggars had placed themselves; the brightest among them looked, to quote the words of Marryat, “like the eldest son of Famine who had just come of age.” The others were either blind, or had withered legs, which obliged them to creep about on their hands and knees, or they had shrivelled arms and hands without fingers. It was indeed poverty arrayed in rags. “Eccellenza, miserabili!” they exclaimed, stretching forth their diseased limbs. The hostess received the travellers with bare feet, untidy hair, and a dirty blouse. The doors were fastened together with string; the floors of the rooms were of brick, broken in many places; bats flew about under the roof; and as to the odor within—

“Let us have supper laid in the stable,” said one of the travellers; “then we shall know what we are breathing.”

The windows were opened to let in a little fresh air, but quicker than air came in the withered arms and the continual whining sounds, “Miserabili, eccellenza”. On the walls were inscriptions, half of them against “la bella Italia.”

The supper made its appearance at last. It consisted of watery soup, seasoned with pepper and rancid oil. This last delicacy played a principal part in the salad. Musty eggs and roasted cocks’-combs were the best dishes on the table; even the wine had a strange taste, it was certainly a mixture. At night, all the boxes were placed against the doors, and one of the travellers watched while the others slept. The student’s turn came to watch. How close the air felt in that room; the heat overpowered him. The gnats were buzzing about and stinging, while the miserabili, outside, moaned in their dreams.

“Travelling would be all very well,” said the student of divinity to himself, “if we had no bodies, or if the body could rest while the soul if flying. Wherever I go I feel a want which oppresses my heart, for something better presents itself at the moment; yes, something better, which shall be the best of all; but where is that to be found? In fact, I know in my heart very well what I want. I wish to attain the greatest of all happiness.”

No sooner were the words spoken than he was at home. Long white curtains shaded the windows of his room, and in the middle of the floor stood a black coffin, in which he now lay in the still sleep of death; his wish was fulfilled, his body was at rest, and his spirit travelling.

“Esteem no man happy until he is in his grave,” were the words of Solon. Here was a strong fresh proof of their truth. Every corpse is a sphinx of immortality. The sphinx in this sarcophagus might unveil its own mystery in the words which the living had himself written two days before—

“Stern death, thy chilling silence waketh dread;

Yet in thy darkest hour there may be light.

Earth’s garden reaper! from the grave’s cold bed

The soul on Jacob’s ladder takes her flight.

Man’s greatest sorrows often are a part

Of hidden griefs, concealed from human eyes,

Which press far heavier on the lonely heart

Than now the earth that on his coffin lies.”

Two figures were moving about the room; we know them both. One was the fairy named Care, the other the messenger of Fortune. They bent over the dead.

“Look!” said Care; “what happiness have your goloshes brought to mankind?”

“They have at least brought lasting happiness to him who slumbers here,” she said.

“Not so,” said Care, “he went away of himself, he was not summoned. His mental powers were not strong enough to discern the treasures which he had been destined to discover. I will do him a favor now.” And she drew the goloshes from his feet.

The sleep of death was ended, and the recovered man raised himself. Care vanished, and with her the goloshes; doubtless she looked upon them as her own property.

最好的事情了Goloshes難道

ARLY在第二天早上，而店員還躺在床上，他的鄰居，一個年輕的神學生，誰提出在同一層高，敲他的門，然後走了進來。“借我你的goloshes，”他說。“它是如此潮濕的花園，但陽光明媚。我喜歡去那裡抽著煙斗“他穿上goloshes，並很快在花園裡，其中只包含一個李子樹和一個蘋果樹。然而，在一個鎮，甚至一個小花園一樣，這是一個很大的優勢。

學生徘徊向上和向下的路徑; 這只是六點鐘，他能聽到後喇叭在街上的聲音。“哦，去旅遊，去旅行”他喊道; “有世界上沒有更大的幸福：這是我的志向的高度。這種不安的感覺會被平息，如果我能採取的旅程遠離這個國家。我喜歡看美麗的瑞士，通過意大利旅行，和“ - 這是很適合他，goloshes立即採取行動，否則他可能已經走得太遠為自己以及我們。在某一時刻，他發現自己在瑞士，有八人緊密排列的盡職調查。他的腦袋疼，他的背部僵硬，血已經停止流通，使他的腳腫脹，掐了他的靴子。他動搖過睡眠和清醒之間的狀態。在他的右手，他的口袋裡有信用證; 在他的左邊口袋裡是他的護照; 和幾個路易D'OR值分別為縫進他的胸前口袋攜帶一個小皮包。每當他打瞌睡，他夢見他已經失去了一個這些財產或他人; 然後他就醒了開始，他的手的第一個動作形成了從他的右手口袋三角形放在自己的胸前，並從他的乳房到他的左邊口袋裡，去感受它們是否都安全。雨傘，棍子和帽子擺在網在他面前，幾乎遮擋的前景，這真的非常有氣勢; 當他在它看了一眼，他的記憶回憶1詩人的話，至少，誰唱的瑞士，而其詩尚未印刷： -

“多麼可愛到我想知道眼睛
勃朗峰的公平峰會輕輕上揚;
'提斯甜呼吸山間空氣， -
如果你有金有餘。“

盛大，黑暗，陰沉的出現在他身邊的風景。松樹，林看起來像苔蘚的高岩小團體，他們的首腦會議迷失在雲霧霧。目前它開始下雪了，風吹敏銳和寒冷。“啊，”他嘆了口氣，“如果我是只對現在阿爾卑斯山的另一邊，那將是夏天，我應該能得到我的信用證資金。我覺得在這個問題上的焦慮使我不能享受自己在瑞士。哦，我希望我是在阿爾卑斯山的另一邊。“

還有，在某一時刻，他發現自己，遠在意大利的中間，佛羅倫薩和羅馬，在那裡湖面Thrasymene在傍晚的陽光一樣的深藍色的群山之間熔金表閃閃發光的。在那裡，在那裡擊敗漢尼拔弗拉米尼，葡萄藤蔓死死抓住對方的友好把握他們的綠色卷鬚的手指; 同時，在路邊，可愛的半裸體的孩子們看的煤黑色豬從眾下香桂的花朵。我們能不能正確地描述了這如詩如畫的一幕，我們的讀者會驚呼，“令人愉快的意大利！”

但他的旅伴既不是學生，也不要么覺得至少傾向認為它是這樣的。毒蠅蚋數千飛進了教練。徒勞的，他們把他們趕走了桃金娘科，螫蠅儘管它們。有沒有在他們的臉上並沒有腫和毀容與刺的教練一個人。可憐的馬看起來猥瑣; 蒼蠅成群在定居在他們的後面，而且他們才放下心來，當馬車夫跳了下來，開車的生物了。

當太陽落下，一個冰冷的寒光充滿所有的性質，但不持續時間長。它產生我們體驗當我們進入一個庫在葬禮上，在夏天的一天的感覺; 而丘陵和穿上那奇異的綠色色調的雲層，我們也看到在古畫，觀看不自然，直到我們有我們自己看到大自然的色彩在南方。這是一個光榮的景象; 但旅客的胃是空的，用盡疲勞自己的身體，他們的心臟的所有渴望轉向一個安身之處過夜; 但如果找到一個他們不知道的。所有的目光都太急切地尋求這個安身之處，注意到大自然的美景。

通過橄欖樹樹叢通過路; 它提醒楊柳樹在家裡的學生。站在這裡的是一個孤獨的客棧，附近有一個編號殘廢乞丐已經把自己; 其中最亮的看著，引用Marryat的話說，“就像飢荒誰剛剛走向成熟的長子。”其他人要么失明，或有枯萎的雙腿，這迫使他們蠕變關於他們的手和膝蓋或者他們已經乾癟的胳膊和手沒有手指。這確實是貧困擺著衣衫襤褸。“Eccellenza，miserabili！ “他們喊道，一面伸出自己患病的肢體。女主人接到旅客赤腳，凌亂的頭髮，臟襯衫。門被用繩子固定在一起; 客房的地板是磚，在很多地方折斷; 蝙蝠飛來飛去的屋簷下; 並作為對氣味等內

“讓我們吃晚飯打下的穩定”之稱的旅客之一; “那麼，我們就知道我們所呼吸的。”

窗戶也敞開了，讓在一個小清新的空氣，但比空氣快在枯萎的武器和不斷抱怨的聲音傳來， “Miserabili，eccellenza” 。上牆是銘文，其中一半是對“美麗的公主意大利。”

晚飯終於做出它的外觀。它包括了水汪汪的湯，調味辣椒和腐臭油。這最後的美味的沙拉中發揮了主要部分。發霉的雞蛋和烤cocks'，梳子是餐桌上的最佳菜餚; 即使酒有一種奇怪的味道，這是肯定的混合物。到了晚上，所有的箱子都靠在門和遊客之一，而看著別人睡著了。學生輪流前來觀看。如何關閉空氣感覺在那個房間裡; 熱制服他。蚊蚋都紛紛議論和刺痛，而miserabili，外面，在呻吟著自己的夢想。

“旅行會是個絕妙的主意，說：”神給自己的學生，“如果我們有沒有屍體，或者如果在靈魂飛翔，如果身體可以休息。無論我走到哪裡，我覺得一個想壓迫著我的心臟，更好的東西提出自己的時刻; 是的，更好的東西，這應是最重要的; 但如果是被發現？其實，我知道在我的心臟很清楚我想要的。我希望達到的最偉大的幸福。“

不早講了話比他在家的話。長長的白色窗簾遮蔽了他房間的窗戶，並在地板中間放著一個黑色的棺材，在他現在在死亡仍然躺臥睡; 他的願望實現了，他的身體在休息，而他的精神旅行。

“自尊沒有人高興，他是在他的墳墓，”是梭倫的話。這裡是他們的真相的強烈新鮮的證明。每具屍體是不朽的獅身人面像。在這個石棺的獅身人面像可能會推出自己的神秘的生活已經自己寫的字前二天

“斯特恩死亡，你的沉默心寒害怕waketh;

然而，在你最黑暗的時刻有可能是光。

地球的花園收割！從墳墓的冷床

雅各的梯子靈魂把她的飛行。

人最大的悲哀往往是一部分

隱藏的憂患，從人的眼睛所掩蓋，

其中按下寂寞心臟重遠

比現在地球上他的棺材謊言“。

兩個數字是走動的房間; 我們知道他們兩個。一個是名叫護理童話，財富的另一使者。他們俯下身死。