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the dumb book-第1章

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                     FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

                                 THE DUMB BOOK

                           by Hans Christian Andersen



    IN the high…road which led through a wood stood a solitary

farm…house; the road; in fact; ran right through its yard。 The sun was

shining and all the windows were open; within the house people were

very busy。 In the yard; in an arbour formed by lilac bushes in full

bloom; stood an open coffin; thither they had carried a dead man;

who was to be buried that very afternoon。 Nobody shed a tear over him;

his face was covered over with a white cloth; under his head they

had placed a large thick book; the leaves of which consisted of folded

sheets of blotting…paper; and withered flowers lay between them; it

was the herbarium which he had gathered in various places and was to

be buried with him; according to his own wish。 Every one of the

flowers in it was connected with some chapter of his life。

    〃Who is the dead man?〃 we asked。

    〃The old student;〃 was the reply。 〃They say that he was once an

energetic young man; that he studied the dead languages; and sang

and even composed many songs; then something had happened to him;

and in consequence of this he gave himself up to drink; body and mind。

When at last he had ruined his health; they brought him into the

country; where someone paid for his board and residence。 He was gentle

as a child as long as the sullen mood did not come over him; but

when it came he was fierce; became as strong as a giant; and ran about

in the wood like a chased deer。 But when we succeeded in bringing

him home; and prevailed upon him to open the book with the dried…up

plants in it; he would sometimes sit for a whole day looking at this

or that plant; while frequently the tears rolled over his cheeks。

God knows what was in his mind; but he requested us to put the book

into his coffin; and now he lies there。 In a little while the lid will

be placed upon the coffin; and he will have sweet rest in the grave!〃

    The cloth which covered his face was lifted up; the dead man's

face expressed peace… a sunbeam fell upon it。 A swallow flew with

the swiftness of an arrow into the arbour; turning in its flight;

and twittered over the dead man's head。

    What a strange feeling it is… surely we all know it… to look

through old letters of our young days; a different life rises up out

of the past; as it were; with all its hopes and sorrows。 How many of

the people with whom in those days we used to be on intimate terms

appear to us as if dead; and yet they are still alive… only we have

not thought of them for such a long time; whom we imagined we should

retain in our memories for ever; and share every joy and sorrow with

them。

    The withered oak leaf in the book here recalled the friend; the

schoolfellow; who was to be his friend for life。 He fixed the leaf

to the student's cap in the green wood; when they vowed eternal

friendship。 Where does he dwell now? The leaf is kept; but the

friendship does no longer exist。 Here is a foreign hothouse plant; too

tender for the gardens of the North。 It is almost as if its leaves

still smelt sweet! She gave it to him out of her own garden… a

nobleman's daughter。

    Here is a water…lily that he had plucked himself; and watered with

salt tears… a lily of sweet water。 And here is a nettle: what may

its leaves tell us? What might he have thought when he plucked and

kept it? Here is a little snowdrop out of the solitary wood; here is

an evergreen from the flower…pot at the tavern; and here is a simple

blade of grass。

    The lilac bends its fresh fragrant flowers over the dead man's

head; the swallow passes again… 〃twit; twit;〃 now the men come with

hammer and nails; the lid is placed over the dead man; while his

head rests on the dumb book… so long cherished; now closed for ever!





                            THE END



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