tiny creatures. He was no taller than ahand's breadth--this one, who sat on the edge of the chest. He had anold, wrinkled and beardless face, and was dressed in a black frock coat,knee-breeches and a broad-brimmed black hat. He was very trim and smart,with his white laces about the throat and wrist-bands, his buckledshoes, and the bows on his garters. He had taken from the chest anembroidered piece, and sat and looked at the old-fashioned handiworkwith such an air of veneration, that he did not observe the boy hadawakened.
The boy was somewhat surprised to see the elf, but, on the other hand,he was not particularly frightened. It was impossible to be afraid ofone who was so little. And since the elf was so absorbed in his ownthoughts that he neither saw nor heard, the boy thought that it would begreat fun to play a trick on him; to push him over into the chest andshut the lid on him, or something of that kind.
But the boy was not so courageous that he dared to touch the elf withhis hands, instead he looked around the room for something to poke himwith. He let his gaze wander from the sofa to the leaf-table; from theleaf-table to the fireplace. He looked at the kettles, then at thecoffee-urn, which stood on a shelf, near the fireplace; on the waterbucket near the door; and on the spoons and knives and forks and saucersand plates, which could be seen through the half-open cupboard door. Helooked at his father's gun, which hung on the wall, beside the portraitof the Danish royal family, and on the geraniums and fuchsias, whichblossomed in the window. And last, he caught sight of an oldbutterfly-snare that hung on the window frame. He had hardly set eyes onthat butterfly-snare, before he reached over and snatched it and jumpedup and swung it alongside the edge of the chest. He was himselfastonished at the luck he had. He hardly knew how he had managed it--buthe had actually snared the elf. The poor little chap lay, head downward,in the bottom of the long snare, and could not free himself.
The first moment the boy hadn't the least idea what he should do withhis prize. He was only particular to swing the snare backward andforward; to prevent the elf from getting a foothold and clambering up.
The elf began to speak, and begged, oh! so pitifully, for his freedom.He had brought them good luck--these many years--he said, and deservedbetter treatment. Now, if the boy would set him free, he would give himan old coin, a silver spoon, and a gold penny, as big as the case on hisfather's silver watch.
The boy didn't think that this was much of an offer; but it sohappened--that after he had gotten the elf in his power, he was afraidof him. He felt that he had entered into an agreement with somethingweird and uncanny; something which did not belong to his world, and hewas only too glad to get rid of the horrid thing.
For this reason he agreed at once to the bargain, and held the snarestill, so the elf could crawl out of it. But when the elf was almost outof the snare, the boy happened to think that he ought to have bargainedfor large estates, and all sorts of good things. He should at least havemade this stipulation: that the elf must conjure the sermon into hishead. "What a fool I was to let him go!" thought he, and began to shakethe snare violently, so the elf would tumble down again.
But the instant the boy did this, he received such a stinging box on theear, that he thought his head would fly in pieces. He was dashed--firstagainst one wall, then against the other; he sank to the floor, and laythere--senseless.
When he awoke, he was alone in the cottage. The chest-lid was down, andthe butterfly-snare hung in its usual place by the window. If he had notfelt how the right cheek burned, from that box on the ear, he would havebeen tempted to believe the whole thing had been a dream. "At any rate,father and mother will be sure to insist that it was nothing else,"thought he. "They are not likely to make any allowances for that oldsermon, on account of the elf. It's best for me to get at that readingagain," thought he.
But as he walked toward the table, he noticed something remarkable. Itcouldn't be possible that the cottage had grown. But why was he obligedto take so many more steps than usual to get to the table? And what wasthe matter with the chair? It looked no bigger than it did a while ago;but now he had to step on the rung first, and then clamber up in orderto reach the seat. It was the same thing with the table. He could notlook over the top without climbing to the arm of the chair.
"What in all the world is this?" said the boy. "I believe the elf hasbewitched both the armchair and the table--and the whole cottage."
The Commentary lay on the table and, to all appearances, it was notchanged; but there must have been something queer about that too, for hecould not manage to read a single word of it, without actually standingright in the book itself.
He read a couple of lines, and then he chanced to look up. With that,his glance fell on the looking-glass; and then he cried aloud: "Look!There's another one!"
For in the glass he saw plainly a little, little creature who wasdressed in a hood and leather breeches.
"Why, that one is dressed exactly like me!" said the boy, and claspedhis hands in astonishment. But then he saw that the thing in the mirrordid the same thing. Then he began to pull his hair and pinch his armsand swing round; and instantly he did the same thing after him; he, whowas seen in the mirror.
The boy ran around the glass several times, to see if there wasn't alittle man hidden behind it, but he found no one there; and then hebegan to shake with terror. For now he understood that the elf hadbewitched him, and that the creature whose image he saw in theglass--was he, himself.
THE WILD GEESE
The boy simply could not make himself believe that he had beentransformed into an elf. "It can't be anything but a dream--a queerfancy," thought he. "If I wait a few moments, I'll surely be turned backinto a human being again."
He placed himself before the glass and closed his eyes. He opened themagain after a couple of minutes, and then expected to find that it hadall passed over--but it hadn't. He was--and remained--just as little. Inother respects, he was the same as before. The thin, straw-colouredhair; the freckles across his nose; the patches on his leather breechesand the darns on his stockings, were all like themselves, with thisexception--that they had become diminished.
No, it would do no good for him to stand still and wait, of this he wascertain. He must try something else. And he thought the wisest thingthat he could do was to try and find the elf, and make his peace withhim.
And while he sought, he cried and prayed and promised everything hecould think of. Nevermore would he break his word to anyone; never againwould he be naughty; and never, never would he fall asleep again overthe sermon. If he might only be a human being once more, he would besuch a good and helpful and obedient boy. But no matter how much hepromised--it did not help him the least little bit.
Suddenly he remembered that he had heard his mother say, all the tinyfolk made their home in the cowsheds; and, at once, he concluded to gothere, and see if he couldn't find the elf. It was a lucky thing thatthe cottage-door stood partly open, for he never could have reached thebolt and opened it; but now he slipped through without any difficulty.
When he came out in the hallway, he looked around for his wooden shoes;for in the house, to be sure, he had gone about in his stocking-feet. Hewondered how he should manage with these big, clumsy wooden shoes; butjust then, he saw a pair of tiny shoes on the doorstep. When he observedthat the elf had been so thoughtful that he had also bewitched thewooden shoes, he was even more troubled. It was evidently his intentionthat this affliction should last a long time.
On the wooden board-walk in front of the cottage, hopped a gray sparrow.He had hardly set eyes on the boy before he called out: "Teetee! Teetee!Look at Nils goosey-boy! Look at Thumbietot! Look at Nils HolgerssonThumbietot!"
Instantly, both the geese and the chickens turned and stared at the boy;and then they set up a fearful cackling. "Cock-el-i-coo," crowed therooster, "good enough for him! Cock-el-i-coo, he has pulled my comb.""Ka, ka, kada, serves him right!" cried the hens; and with that theykept up a continuous cackle. The geese got together in a tight group,stuck their heads together and asked: "Who can have done thi
s? Who canhave done this?"
But the strangest thing of all was, that the boy understood what theysaid. He was so astonished, that he stood there as if rooted to thedoorstep, and listened. "It must be because I am changed into an elf,"said he. "This is probably why I understand bird-talk."
He thought it was unbearable that the hens would not stop saying that itserved him right. He threw a stone at them and shouted:
"Shut up, you pack!"
But it hadn't occurred to him before, that he was no longer the sort ofboy the hens need fear. The whole henyard made a rush for him, andformed a ring around him; then they all cried at once: "Ka, ka, kada,served you right! Ka, ka, kada, served you right!"
The boy tried to get away, but the chickens ran after him and screamed,until he thought he'd lose his hearing. It is more than
Nils Holgerssons underbara resa. English Page 2
