The Sweep spoke most reasonably and sensibly to her, spoke of the old Chinese, and of the Goatsleg High adjutant general military commandant, but she sobbed so violently that he was obliged to do as she wished, though it was foolish.
They therefore climbed down again with much trouble and difficulty, and when they got near the bottom they stopped to listen, but all being quiet they stepped into the room. There lay the old Chinese on the floor; he had fallen off the table when he attempted to follow them, and there he lay broken into three pieces. His whole back had come off in one piece, and his head had rolled far off into a comer of the room.
“That is horrible!” the little Shepherdess said. “My old grandfather is broken to pieces, and it is our fault. Oh, I shall never survive it!” And she wrung her little hands.
“He can be riveted,” the Sweep said. “He can very well be riveted.
Do not you give way
“I cannot bear this,” she said, “I must get out of the cupboard.” But when they were out and looked up at the table, they saw the old Chinese was awake and his whole body shaking.
“Now the old Chinese is coming,” the little Shepherdess cried, and fell down upon her china knees, she was in Such a fright.
“I have an idea,” the Sweep said. “Let us get into the potpourri-jar which stands there in the comer, where we can lie on rose-leaves and lavender, and throw salt in his eyes if he comes.”
“That cannot help us,” she said; “besides, I know that the old Chinese and the potpourri-jar were once engaged to each other, and there always remains some sort of tie between people with whom such a connection has existed. No, there is nothing left for us but to go out in the wide world.”
“Have you really courage to go out with me into the wide world?” the Sweep asked. “Have you considered how large it is, and that we can ne
There he stood, with his face red and white, just like a girl, and that was a mistake, for it might have been blackened a little. He was close to the Shepherdess, and they had both been placed where they stood, which, being the case, they were naturally engaged to each other, and well suited they were, for they were made of the same china, and were both little.
Not far from them there was another figure, but three times as big, a Chinese, who could nod his head. He was also made of china, and pretended to be the Shepherdess’s grandfather, though he could not prove it, so claimed authority over her, and had promised her to the Goatsleg High adjutant general military commandant.
“You will have a husband,” the old Chinese said, “who I almost believe is made of mahogany, and he has the whole cabinet full of plate, besides the valuables that are in the hidden drawers.”
“I will not go into the dark cabinet,” the little Shepherdess said, “for I
Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875)
Andersen was born at Odense. His parents were so poor that he had no chance at first of securing the education he wanted. At an early age he went to Copenhagen, tried to act, and failed. With the help of friends he was able eventually to attend the University. His earliest writings were verses and fantastic tales in the manner of Hoffmann, plays, and a few novels. In 1835 he published his first volume of fairy tales, which became at once immensely popular, bringing him fame and money. Throughout his long life he continued to write tales, novels, books of travel and plays, but it is chiefly his fairy tales that are remembered.
The Andersen fairy tale is different from all others of its kind. It is at its best a subtle prose poem, satiric, graceful, and harmonious. The Shepherdess and the Sweep is one of the loveliest of his works.
The present version, anonymously translated, is reprinted from an u
The importance of being Important while on Customized Tours Bulgaria
As a company, we in EnmarBg decided to focus on customized, private tour Bulgaria because we believe that it’s best when you travel with the people you love, family or friends.
Yes, you will see several itineraries already done on our website for you but our intention, in fact is to help you get an idea of what Bulgaria is. We also like to help you get acquainted with the country and the region. (Sofia sightseeing) And not only that but to help you learn a little bit more about the culture of this amazing country before you start planning your Bulgaria holidays.
We believe that everybody nee
Private tours Bulgaria. Bulgaria is no different from any other country in the world. It has its own history, heroes, legends. It surely had its falls and pinnacle. Bulgaria is inviting you on private tours Bulgaria to learn more about the country.
The country had difficult moments but it has always had its folklore. That folklore full of never ending energy which helped Bulgarians to survive through the centuries of wars. It also helped them to stay as a nation. What does folklore mean? It is the beliefs, traditions, stories of a community which are passed through the generations by word of mouth. Bulgarian folk songs, Bulgarian traditional costumes have these in them. The costume is one of the most typical elements of the Bulgarian folk culture.
It reflects the specificity, traditional culture and life of t
When, now, the dances and songs and all the ceremonies had come to an end and the heavenly company sat down, Musa was taken to a table where the nine Muses were being served. They sat huddled together half scared, glancing about with their fiery black or dark blue eyes. The busy Martha, of the Gospels was caring for them in person.
She had on her finest kitchen apron and a tiny little smudge on her white chin and was pressing all manner of good things on the Muses in the friendliest possible way, but when Musa and Saint Cecilia and some other artistic women arrived and greeted the shy Pierians cheerfully, and joined their company, they began to thaw, grew confidential, and the feminine circle became quite pleasant and happy. Musa sat beside Terpsichore, and Cecilia between Polyhymnia and Euterpe, and all took one another’s hands.
Next came the little minstrel urchins and made up to the beautiful women with an eye to the bright fruit which shone on the ambrosi
As this involuntary twitching would not forsake her, and often seduced her to a little skip before she was aware, she caused her tender feet to be fastened together by a light chain. Her relatives and friends marveled day and night at the transformation, rejoiced to possess such a saint, and guarded the hermitage under the trees as the apple of their eye. Many came for her counsel and intercession.
In particular, they used to bring young girls to her who were rather clumsy on their feet, for it was observed that everyone whom she touched at once became light and graceful in gait.
So she spent three years in her cell, but by the end of the third year Musa had become almost as thin and transparent as a summer cloud. She lay continually on her bed of moss, gazed wistfully into Heaven, and was convinced that she could already see the golden sandals of the blessed, dancing and gliding about through the azure.
At last one harsh autumn day the tidings spread that the
Musa found no time to wonder at all this until the dance, which lasted a pretty long time, was over; for the merry gentleman seemed to enjoy himself as much as the maid, who felt as if she were dancing about in heaven. But when the music ceased and Musa stood there panting, she began to be frightened in good earnest, and looked in astonishment at the ancient, who was neither out of breath nor warm, and who now began to speak. He introduced himself as David, the Virgin Mary’s royal ancestor, and her ambassador. He asked if she would like to pass eternal bliss in an unending pleasure dance, compared with which the dance they had just finished could only be called a miserable crawl.
To this she promptly answered that she would like nothing better. Whereupon the blessed King David said again that in that case she had nothing more to do than to renounce all pleasure and all dancing for the rest of her days on earth and devote herself wholly to penance and spiritual exercises,
Gottfried Keller (1819 – 1890)
Keller, one of the most distinguished writers of Switzerland, is claimed by the Germans because he wrote in their language. The son of a Swiss mechanic, he spent a dreamy and aimless youth. He lived a great part of his life in Zurich. It was not until after his death that he was recognized as one of the masters of German literature. Professor Thomas declares that his “books are on the whole the very best reading to be found in the whole range of Nineteenth Century
German fiction.” He wrote almost entirely of his beloved Switzerland. His Seven Legends (1872), in which A Legend of the Dance first appeared, is one of his most beautiful books.
The present version, translated by Martin Wyness, is reprinted, by permission of the publishers, from Seven Legends, Gowans & Gray, Glasgow, 1911.
A Legend of the Dance
According to Saint Gregory, Musa was the dancer among the saints. The child of good