THERE' S nobody in the whole world who knows so many stories as Ole Luk-Oie . He can tell capital histories .
Well on in the evening, when the children still sit nicely at table, or upon their stools, Ole Luk-Oie comes. He comes up the stairs quite softly, for he walks in his socks: he opens the door noiselessly, and whisk ! he squirts sweet milk in the children' s eyes , a small , small stream, but enough to prevent them from keeping their eyes open; and thus they cannot see him. He creeps just among them, and blows softly upon their necks, and this makes their heads heavy . Yes ,but it doesn' t hurt them, for Ole Luk-Oie is very fond of the children; he only wants them to be quiet, and that they are not until they are taken to bed they are to be quiet that he may tell them stories .
When the children sleep, Ole Luk-Oie sits down upon their bed . He is well dressed : his coat is of silk, but it is impossible to say of what colour, for it shines red , green , and blue, according as he turns. Under each arm hecarries an umbrella: the one with pictures on it he spreads over the good children, and then they dream all night the most glorious stories; but on his other umbrella nothing at all is painted: this he spreads over the naughty children, and these sleep in a dull way , and when they awake in themorning they have not dreamed of anything.
Now we shall hear how Ole Luk-Oie, every evening through one whole week, came to a little boy named Hjalmar, and what he told him. There are seven stories, for there are seven days in the week .
“Listen,” said Ole Luk-Oie in the evening, when he had put Hjalmar to bed ; “now I' ll decorate . ” And all the flowers in the flower-pots became great trees , stretching out their long branches under the ceiling of the room and along the walls, so that the whole room looked like a beauteous bower; and all the twigs were covered with flowers , and each flower was more beautiful than a rose , and smelt so sweet that one wanted to eat it----it was sweeter than jam. The fruit gleamed like gold, and there were cakes bursting with raisins . It was incomparably beautiful . But at the same time a terrible wail sounded from the table drawer, where Hjalmar's school-book lay.
“Whatever can that be?” said Ole Luk-Oie; and he went to the table, and opened the drawer. It was the slate which was suffering from convulsions , for a wrong number had got into the sum, so that it was nearly falling in pieces; the slate pencil tugged and jumped at its string, as if it had been a little dog who wanted to help the sum; but he could not . And thus there was a great lamentation in Hjalmar' s copy-book; it was quite terrible to hear. On each page the great letters stood in a row, one underneath the other, and each with a little one at its side; that was the copy; and next to these were a few more letters which thought they looked just like the first; and these Hjalmar had written; but they lay down just as if they had tumbled over the pencil lines on which they were to stand.
“See , this is how you should hold yourselves , ” said the Copy . “ Look , sloping in this way , with a powerful swing!”
“Oh , we should be very glad to do that , ”
replied Hjalmar's Letters,“but we cannot;we are too weakly.”
“Then you must take medicine,” said Ole Luk-Oie.
“Oh,no,”cried they;and they immediately stood up so gracefully that it was beautiful to behold.
“Yes, now we cannot tell any stories,”said Ole Luk-Oie;“now I must exercise them.One, two! one, two! and thus he exercised the Letters; and they stood quite slender, and as beautiful as any copy can be. But when Ole Luk-Oie went away, and Hjalmar looked at them next morning, they were as weak and miserable as ever.
As soon as Hjalmar was in bed, Ole Luk-Oie touched all the furniture in the room with his little magic squirt, and they immediately began to converse together, and each one spoke of itself,with the exception of the spittoon, which stood silent, and was vexed that they should be so vain as to speak only of themselves, and think only of themselves, without any regard for him who stood so modestly in the corner for every one's use.
Over the chest of drawers hung a great picture in a gilt frame----it was a landscape. One saw therein large old trees,flowers in the grass,and a large lake with a river which flowed round about a forest,past many castles,and far out into the wide ocean．
Ole Luk-Oie touched the painting with his magic squirt, and the birds in it began to sing, the branches of the trees stirred, and the clouds began to move across it;one could see their shadows glide over the landscape.
Now Ole Luk-Oie lifted little Hjalmar up to the frame, and put the boy's feet into the picture,just in the high grass; and there he stood; and the sun shone upon him through the branches of the trees.He ran to the water, and seated himself in a little boat which lay there; it was painted red and white, the sails gleamed like silver,and six swans, each with a gold circlet round its neck and a bright blue star on its forehead,drew the boat past the great wood, where the trees told of robbers and witches,and the flowers told of the graceful little elves, and of what the butterflies had told them.
Gorgeous fishes, with scales like silver and gold,swam after their boat; sometimes they gave a spring, so that it splashed in the water; and birds, blue and red,little and great, flew after them in two long rows; the gnats danced, and the cockchafers said,“Boom! boom!”They all wanted to follow Hjalmar,and each one had a story to tell.
That was a pleasure voyage.Sometimes the forest was thick and dark,sometimes like a glorious garden full of sunlight and flowers;and there were great palaces of glass and of marble;on the balconies stood Princesses,and these were all little girls whom Hjalmar knew well----he had already played with them．Each one stretched forth her hand, and held out the prettiest sugar heart which ever a cake-woman could sell;and Hjalmar took hold of each sugar heart as he passed by, and the Princess held fast, so that each of them got a piece----she the smaller share, and Hjalmar the larger.At each palace little Princes stood sentry. They shouldered golden swords, and caused raisins and tin soldiers to shower down: one could see that they were real Princes.Sometimes Hjalmar sailed through forests,sometimes through great halls or through the midst of a town. He also came to the town where his nurse lived, who had carried him in her arms when he was quite a little boy, and who had always been so kind to him; and she nodded and beckoned,and sang the pretty verse she had made herself and had sent to Hjalmar.
I've loved thee, and kissed thee,Hjalmar, dear boy;
I've watched thee waking and sleeping;
May the good Lord guard thee in sorrow,in joy,
And have thee in His keeping.
And all the birds sang too, the flowers danced on their stalks, and the old trees nodded, just as if Ole LukOie had been telling stories to them.
How the rain was streaming down without!Hjalmar could hear it in his sleep; and when Ole Luk-Oie opened a window, the water stood right up to the window-sill:there was quite a lake outside, and a noble ship lay close by the house.
“If thou wilt sail with me,little Hjalmar,”said Ole Luk-Oie,“thou canst voyage tonight to foreign climes,and be back again tomorrow.”
And Hjalmar suddenly stood in his Sunday clothes upon the glorious ship,and immediately the weather became fine, and they sailed through the streets, and steered round by the church;and now everything was one great wild ocean. They sailed on until land was no longer to be seen, and they saw a number of storks, who also came from their home, and were travelling towards the hot countries:these storks flew in a row,one behind the other,and they had already flown far----far!One of them was so weary that his wings would scarcely carry him farther: he was the very last in the row, and soon remained a great way behind the rest; at last he sank,with outspread wings, deeper and deeper; he gave a few more strokes with his pinions, but it was of no use; now he touched the rigging of the ship with his feet, then he glided down from the sail, and----bump!----he stood upon the deck.
Now the cabin boy took him and put him into the hencoop with the Fowls, Ducks, and Turkeys;the poor Stork stood among them quite embarrassed.
“Just look at the fellow!”said all the Fowls.
And the Turkey-cock swelled himself up as much as ever he could, and asked the Stork who he was; and the Ducks walked backwards and quacked to each other,“Quackery! quackery!”
And the Stork told them of hot Africa, of the pyramids,and of the ostrich, which runs like a wild horse through the desert;but the Ducks did not understand what he said, and they said to one another:
“We're all of the same opinion, namely, that he's stupid.”
“Yes, certainly he's stupid,”said the Turkey-cock;and he gobbled.
Then the stork was quite silent,and thought of his Africa.
“Those are wonderful thin legs of yours,”said the Turkey-cock.“Pray, how much do they cost a yard?”
“Quack! quack! quack!”grinned all the Ducks;but the Stork pretended not to hear it at all.
“You May just as well laugh too,”said the Turkeycock to him,“for that was very wittily said.Or was it,perhaps, too high for you? Yes, yes, he isn't very penetrating.Let us continue to be interesting among ourselves.”
And the Hens clucked, and the Ducks quacked,“Gick!gack!gick! gack!”It was terrible how they made fun among themselves.
But Hjalmar went to the hencoop, opened the back door, and called to the Stork;and the Stork hopped out to him on to the deck.Now he had rested, and it seemed as if he nodded at Hjalmar, to thank him. Then he spread his wings, and flew away to the warm countries; but the Fowls clucked, and the Ducks quacked, and the Turkey-cock became fiery red in the face.
“Tomorrow we shall make soup of you,”said Hjalmar;and so saying he awoke, and was lying in his little bed. It was a wonderful journey that Ole Luk-Oie had caused him to take that night.”
“I tell you what,”said Ole Luk-Oie,“you must not be frightened.Here you shall see a little Mouse,”and he held out his hand with the pretty little creature in it.“It has come to invite you to a wedding. There are two little Mice here who are going to enter into the marriage state tonight. They live under the floor of your mother's storecloset: that is said to be a charming dwelling-place!”
“But how can I get through the little mouse-hole in the floor?”asked Hjalmar.
“Let me manage that,”said Ole Luk-Oie.“I will make you small.”
And he touched Hjalmar with his magic squirt, and the boy began to shrink and shrink, until he was not so long as a finger.
“Now you may borrow the uniform of a tin soldier: I think it would fit you, and it looks well to wear a uniform when one is in society.”
“Yes, certainly,”said Hjalmar.
And in a moment he was dressed like the smartest of tin soldiers.
“Will you not be kind enough to take a seat in your mamma's thimble?”asked the Mouse.“Then I shall have the honour of drawing you.”
“Will the young lady really take so much trouble?”cried Hjalmar.
And thus they drove to the mouse's wedding.First they came into a long passage beneath the boards, which was only just so high that they could drive through it in the thimble; and the whole passage was lit up with rotten wood.
“Is there not a delicious smell here?”observed the Mouse.“The entire road has been greased with bacon rinds, and there can be nothing more exquisite.”
Now they came into the festive hall.On the right hand stood all the little lady mice; and they whispered and giggled as if they were making fun of each other;on the left stood all the gentlemen mice, stroking their whiskers with their fore paws;and in the centre of the hall the bridegroom and bride might be seen standing in a hollow cheese rind, and kissing each other terribly before all the guests;for of course they were engaged, and were just about to be married.
More and more strangers kept flocking in.One mouse was nearly treading another to death;and the happy couple had stationed themselves just in the doorway, so that one could neither come in nor go out. Like the passage, the room had been greased with bacon rinds, and that was the entire banquet;but for the dessert a pea was produced, in which a mouse belonging to the family had bitten the name of the betrothed pair----that is to say, the first letter of the name:that was something quite out of the common way.
All the mice said it was a beautiful wedding,and that the entertainment had been very agreeable. And then Hjalmar drove home again:he had really been in grand company; but he had been obliged to shrink in, to make himself little, and to put on a tin soldier's uniform.
“It is wonderful how many grown-up people there are who would be glad to have me!”said Ole Luk-Oie;“especially those who have done something wrong.‘Good little Ole,’they say to me,‘we cannot close our eyes, and so we lie all night and see our evil deeds, which sit on the bedstead like ugly little goblins, and throw hot water over us;will you not come and drive them away, so that we may have a good sleep?’----and then they sigh deeply----‘we would really be glad to pay for it. Good night, Ole; the money lies on the window sill.’But I do nothing for money,”says Ole Luk-Oie.
“What shall we do this evening?”asked Hjalmar.
“I don't know if you care to go to another wedding tonight.It is of a different kind from that of yesterday.Your sister's great doll, that looks like a man, and is called Hermann,is going to marry the doll Bertha. Moreover, it is the doll's birthday, and therefore they will receive very many presents.”
“Yes, I know that,”replied Hjalmar.“Whenever the dolls want new clothes my sister lets them either keep their birthday or celebrate a wedding; that has certainly happened a hundred times already.”
“Yes, but tonight is the hundred and first wedding;and when number one hundred and one is past, it is all over;and that is why it will be so splendid. Only look!”
And Hjalmar looked at the table.There stood the little cardboard house with the windows illuminated, and in front of it all the tin soldiers were presenting arms.The bride and bridegroom sat quite thoughtful, and with good reason, on the floor, leaning against a leg of the table. And Ole Luk-Oie,dressed up in the grandmother's black gown, married them to each other. When the ceremony was over,all the pieces of furniture struck up the following beautiful song,which the pencil had written for them.It was sung to the melody of the soldiers'tattoo.
Let the song swell like the rushing wind,
In honour of those who this day are joined,
Although they stand here so stiff and blind,
Because they are both of a leathery kind.
Hurrah! hurrah! though they're deaf and blind,
Let the song swell like the rushing wind.
And now they received presents----but they had declined to accept provisions of any kind,for they intended to live on love.
“Shall we now go into a summer lodging or start on a journey?”asked the bridegroom.
And the Swallow, who was a great traveller, and the old yard Hen, who had brought up five broods of chickens, were consulted on the subject. And the Swallow told of the beautiful warm climes,where the grapes hung in ripe heavy clusters,where the air is mild,and the mountains glow with colours unknown here.
“But they have not our green colewort there!”objected the Hen.“I was in the country, with my children one summer.There was a sand pit, in which we could walk about and scratch;and we had the entrée to a garden where green colewort grew:Oh, how green it was!I cannot imagine anything more beautiful.”
“But one cole-plant looks just like another,”said the Swallow;“and the weather here is often so bad.”
“One is accustomed to that,”said the Hen.
“But it is so cold here, it freezes.”
“That is good for the coleworts!”said the Hen.“Besides,it can also be warm. Did we not,four years ago, have a summer which lasted five weeks? it was so hot here that one could scarcely breathe;and then we have not all the poisonous animals that infest these warm countries of yours, and we are free from robbers. He is a villain who does not consider our country the most beautiful----he certainly does not deserve to be here!”And then the Hen wept,and went on:“I have also travelled.I rode in a coop above fifty miles;and there is no pleasure at all in travelling!”
“Yes, the Hen is a sensible woman!”said the doll Bertha.“I don't think anything either of travelling among mountains, for you only have to go up, and then down again. No, we will go into the sand pit beyond the gate,and walk about in the colewort-patch.”
And so it was settled.
“Am I to hear some stories now?”asked little Hjalmar, as soon as Ole Luk-Oie had got him into bed.
“This evening we have no time for that,”replied Ole;and he spread his fine umbrella over the lad.“Only look at these Chinamen!”
And the whole umbrella looked like a great China dish, with blue trees and pointed bridges with little Chinamen upon them, who stood there nodding their heads.
“We must have the whole world prettily decked out for tomorrow morning,”said Ole,“for that is a holiday ----it is Sunday. I will go to the church steeples to see that the little church goblins are polishing the bells, that they may sound sweetly. I will go out into the field, and see if the breezes are blowing the dust from the grass and leaves; and, what is the greatest work of all, I will bring down all the stars,to polish them. I take them in my apron;but first each one must be numbered,and the holes in which they are fixed up there must be numbered likewise, so that they may be placed in the same holes again;otherwise they would not sit fast, and we should have too many shooting stars,for one after another would fall down.”
“Hark-ye!Do you know,Mr. Luk-Oie,”said an old Portrait which hung on the wall where Hjalmar slept, “I am Hjalmar's great-grandfather.I thank you for telling the boy stories;but you must not confuse his ideas.The stars cannot be taken down and polished! The stars are world-orbs,just like our own earth,and that is just the good thing about them.”
“I thank you,old great-grandfather,”said Ole LukOie,“I thank you! You are the head of the family.You are the ancestral head; but I am older than you!I am an old heathen:the Romans and Greeks called me the Dream God.I have been in the noblest houses, and am admitted there still!I know how to act with great people and with small. Now you may tell your own story!”And Ole Luk-Oie took his umbrella,and went away.
“Well,well!May one not even give an opinion nowadays?”grumbled the old Portrait. And Hjalmar awoke.
“Good evening!”said Ole Luk-Oie; and Hjalmar nodded, and then ran and turned his great-grandfather's Portrait against the wall,that it might not interrupt them,as it had done yesterday.
“Now you must tell me stories;about the five green peas that lived in one pod, and about the cock's foot that paid court to the hen's foot, and of the darning-needle who gave herself such airs because she thought herself a sewing needle.”
“There may be too much of a good thing!”said Ole Luk-Oie.“You know that I prefer showing you something.I will show You my own brother. His name, like mine, is Ole Luk-Oie, but he never comes to any one more than once;and he takes him to whom he comes upon his horse,and tells him stories. He only knows two.One of these is so exceedingly beautiful that no one in the world can imagine it, and the other so horrible and dreadful that it cannot be described.”
And then Ole Luk-Oie lifted little Hjalmar up to the window,and said,
“There you will see my brother, the other Ole LukOie. They also call him Death! Do you see, he does not look so terrible as they make him in the picture-books,where he is only a skeleton. No,that is silver embroidery that he has on his coat; that is a splendid hussar's uniform; a mantle of black velvet flies behind him over the horse. See how he gallops along!”
And Hjalmar saw how this Ole Luk-Oie rode away,and took young people as well as old upon his horse.Some of them he put before him, and some behind; but he always asked first,“How stands it with the mark-book?”“Well,”they all replied.“Yes, let me see it myself,”he said. And then each one had to show him the book;and those who had“very well”and“remarkably well”written in their books,were placed in front of his horse, and a lovely story was told to them; while those who had“middling”or“tolerably well,”had to sit up behind, and hear a very terrible story indeed. They trembled and wept, and wanted to jump off the horse,but this they could not do,for they had all, as it were, grown fast to it.
“But Death is a most splendid Ole Luk-Oie,”said Hjalmar.“I am not afraid of him!”
“Nor need you be,”replied Ole Luk-Oie;“but see that you have a good mark-book!”
“Yes, that is instructive!”muttered the greatgrandfather's Picture.“It is of some use after all giving one's opinion.”And now he was satisfied.
You see, that is the story of Ole Luk-Oie; and now he may tell you more himself, this evening!