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安徒生童話故事第64篇：各得其所Everything in the Right Place
引導語：各得其所原指各人都得到滿足，后指每個人或事物都得到恰當的位置或安排。下面是相關的安徒生童話故事，有中英文版本的，歡迎大家閱讀!
這是一百多年以前的事情!
在樹林后面的一個大湖旁邊，有一座古老的邸宅。它的周圍有一道很深的壕溝;里面長著許多蘆葦和草。在通向入口的那座橋邊，長著一棵古老的柳樹;它的枝子垂向這些蘆葦。
從空巷里傳來一陣號角聲和馬蹄聲;一個牧鵝姑娘趁著一群獵人沒有奔馳過來以前，就趕快把她的一群鵝從橋邊趕走。獵人飛快地跑近來了。她只好急忙爬到橋頭的一塊石頭上，免得被他們踩倒。她仍然是個孩子，身材很瘦削;但是她面上有一種和藹的表情和一雙明亮的眼睛。那位老爺沒有注意到這點。當他飛馳過去的時候，他把鞭子掉過來，惡作劇地用鞭子的把手朝這女孩子的胸脯一推，弄得她仰著滾下去了。
“各得其所!”他大聲說，“請你滾到泥巴里去吧!”
他哄笑起來。因為他覺得這很好笑，所以和他一道的人也都笑起來。全體人馬都大肆叫嗥，連獵犬也咬起來。這真是所謂：
“富鳥飛來聲音大!”①
只有上帝知道，他現在還是不是富有。
這個可憐的牧鵝女在落下去的時候，伸手亂抓，結果抓住了柳樹的一根垂枝，這樣她就懸在泥沼上面。老爺和他的獵犬馬上就走進大門不見了。這時她就想法再爬上來，但是枝子忽然在頂上斷了;要不是上面有一只強壯的手抓住了她，她就要落到蘆葦里去了。這人是一個流浪的小販。他從不遠的地方看到了這件事情，所以他現在就急忙趕過來幫助她。
“各得其所!”他模擬那位老爺的口吻開玩笑地說。于是，他就把小姑娘拉到干地上來。他倒很想把那根斷了的枝子接上，但是“各得其所”不是在任何場合下都可以做得到的!因此他就把這枝子插到柔軟的土里。“假如你能夠的話，生長吧，一直長到你可以成為那個公館里的人們的一管笛子!”
他倒希望這位老爺和他的一家人挨一次痛打呢。他走進這個公館里去，但并不是走進客廳，因為他太微賤了!他走進仆人住的地方去。他們翻了翻他的貨品，爭論了一番價錢。但是從上房的酒席桌上，起來一陣喧噪和尖叫聲——這就是他們所謂的唱歌;比這更好的東西他們就不會了。笑聲和犬吠聲、大吃大喝聲，混做一團。普通酒和強烈的啤酒在酒罐和玻璃杯里冒著泡，狗子跟主人坐在一起吃喝。有的狗子用耳朵把鼻子擦干凈以后，還得到少爺們的親吻。
他們請這小販帶著他的貨品走上來，不過他們的目的是要開他的玩笑。酒已經入了他們的肚腸，理智已經飛走了。他們把啤酒倒進襪子里，請這小販跟他們一起喝，但是必須喝得快!這辦法既巧妙，而又能逗人發笑。于是他們把牲口、農奴和農莊都拿出來作為賭注，有的贏，有的輸了。
“各得其所!”小販在走出了這個他所謂的“罪惡的淵藪”的時候說。“我的處‘所’是寬廣的大路，我在那家一點也不感到自在。”
牧鵝的小姑娘從田野的籬笆那兒對他點頭。
許多天過去了。許多星期過去了。小販插在壕溝旁邊的那根折斷了的楊柳枝，顯然還是新鮮和翠綠的;它甚至還冒出了嫩芽。牧鵝的小姑娘知道這根枝子現在生了根，所以她感到非常愉快，因為她覺得這棵樹是她的樹。
這棵樹在生長。但是公館里的一切，在喝酒和賭博中很快地就搞光了——因為這兩件東西像輪子一樣，任何人在上面是站不穩的。
六個年頭還沒有過完，老爺拿著袋子和手杖，作為一個窮人走出了這個公館。公館被一個富有的小販買去了。他就是曾經在這兒被戲弄和譏笑過的那個人——那個得從襪子里喝啤酒的人。但是誠實和勤儉帶來興盛;現在這個小販成為了公館的主人。不過從這時起，打紙牌的這種賭博就不許在這兒再玩了。
“這是很壞的消遣，”他說，“當魔鬼第一次看到《圣經》的時候，他就想放一本壞書來抵消它，于是他就發明了紙牌戲!”
這位新主人娶了一個太太。她不是別人，就是那個牧鵝的女郎。她一直是很忠誠、虔敬和善良的。她穿上新衣服非常漂亮，好像她天生就是一個貴婦人似的。事情怎么會是這樣呢?是的，在我們這個忙碌的時代里，這是一個很長的故事;不過事情是如此，而且最重要的一部分還在后面。
住在這座古老的邸宅里是很幸福的。母親管家里的事，父親管外面的事，幸福好像是從泉水里涌出來的。凡是幸運的地方，就經常有幸運來臨。這座老房子被打掃和油漆得一新;壕溝也清除了，果木樹也種起來了。一切都顯得溫暖而愉快;地板擦得很亮，像一個棋盤。在漫長的冬夜里，女主人同她的女傭人坐在堂屋里織羊毛或紡線。禮拜天的晚上，司法官——那個小販成了司法官，雖然他現在已經老了——就讀一段《圣經》。孩子們——因為他們生了孩子——都長大了，而且受到了很好的教育，雖然像在別的家庭里一樣，他們的能力各有不同。
公館門外的那根柳樹枝。已經長成為一棵美麗的樹。它自由自在地立在那兒，還沒有被剪過枝。“這是我們的家族樹!”這對老夫婦說;這樹應該得到光榮和尊敬——他們這樣告訴他們的孩子，包括那些頭腦不太聰明的孩子。
一百年過去了。
這就是我們的時代。湖已經變成了一塊沼地。那座老邸宅也不見了，現在只剩下一個長方形的水潭，兩邊立著一些斷垣殘壁。這就是那條壕溝的遺址。這兒還立著一株壯麗的老垂柳。它就是那株老家族樹。這似乎是說明，一棵樹如果你不去管它，它會變得多么美麗。當然，它的主干從根到頂都裂開了;風暴也把它打得略為彎了一點。雖然如此，它仍然立得很堅定，而且在每一個裂口里——風和雨送了些泥土進去——還長出了草和花;尤其是在頂上大枝丫分杈的地方，許多覆盆子和繁縷形成一個懸空的花園。這兒甚至還長出了幾棵山梨樹;它們苗條地立在這株老柳樹的身上。當風兒把青浮草吹到水潭的一個角落里去了的時候，老柳樹的影子就在蔭深的水上出現。一條小徑從這樹的近旁一直伸到田野。在樹林附近的一個風景優美的小山上，有一座新房子，既寬大，又華麗;窗玻璃是那么透明，人們可能以為它完全沒有鑲玻璃。大門前面的寬大臺階很像玫瑰花和寬葉植物所形成的一個花亭。草坪是那么碧綠，好像每一起葉子早晚都被沖洗過了一番似的。廳堂里懸著華貴的繪畫。套著錦緞和天鵝絨的椅子和沙發，簡直像自己能夠走動似的。此外還有光亮的大理石桌子，燙金的皮裝的書籍。是的，這兒住著的是富有的人;這兒住著的是貴族——男爵。
這兒一切東西都配得很調和。這兒的格言是：“各得其所!”因此從前在那座老房子里光榮地、排場地掛著的一些繪畫，現在統統都在通到仆人住處的走廊上掛著。它們現在成了廢物——特別是那兩幅老畫像：一幅是一位穿粉紅上衣和戴著撲了粉的假發的紳士，另一幅是一位太太——她的向上梳的頭發也撲了粉，她的手里拿著一朵紅玫瑰花。他們兩人四周圍著一圈柳樹枝所編成的花環。這兩張畫上布滿了圓洞，因為小男爵們常常把這兩位老人當做他們射箭的靶子。這兩位老人就是司法官和他的夫人——這個家族的始祖。
“但是他們并不真正屬于這個家族!”一位小男爵說。“他是一個小販，而她是一個牧鵝的丫頭。他們一點也不像爸爸和媽媽。”
這兩張畫成為沒有價值的廢物。因此，正如人們所說的，它們“各得其所”!曾祖父和曾祖母就來到通向仆人宿舍的走廊里了。
牧師的兒子是這個公館里的家庭教師。有一天他和小男爵們以及他們受了堅信禮不久的姐姐到外面去散步。他們在小徑上向那棵老柳樹后面走來;當他們正在走的時候，這位小姐就用田里的小花扎了一個花束。"各得其所"，所以這些花兒也形成了一個美麗的整體。在這同時，她傾聽著大家的高談闊論。她喜歡聽牧師的兒子談起大自然的威力，談起歷史上偉大的男子和女人。她有健康愉快的個性，高尚的思想和靈魂，還有一顆喜愛上帝所創造一切事物的心。
他們在老柳樹旁邊停下來。最小的那位男爵很希望有一管笛子，因為他從前也有過一管用柳樹枝雕的笛子。牧師的兒子便折下一根枝子。
“啊，請不要這樣做吧!”那位年輕的女男爵說。然而這已經做了。“這是我們的一棵有名的老樹，我非常心疼它!他們在家里常常因此笑我，但是我不管!這棵樹有一個來歷!”
于是她就把她所知道的關于這樹的事情全講出來：關于那個老邸宅的事情，以及那個小販和那個牧鵝姑娘怎樣在這地方第一次遇見、后來他們又怎樣成為這個有名的家族和這個女男爵的始祖的事情。
“這兩個善良的老人，他們不愿意成為貴族!”她說，“他們遵守著‘各得其所’的格言;因此他們就覺得，假如他們用錢買來一個爵位，那就與他們的地位不相稱了。只有他們的兒子——我們的祖父——才正式成為一位男爵。據說他是一位非常有學問的人，他常常跟王子和公主們來往，還常常參加他們的宴會。家里所有的人都非常喜歡他。但是，我不知道為什么，最初的那對老人對我的心有某種吸引力。那個老房子里的生活一定是這樣地安靜和莊嚴：主婦和女撲們一起坐著紡紗，老主人高聲朗誦著《圣經》。”
“他們是一對可愛的通情理的人!”牧師的兒子說。
到這兒，他們的談話就自然接觸到貴族和市民了。牧師的兒子幾乎不太像市民階層的人，因為當他談起關于貴族的事情時，他是那么內行。他說：
“一個人作為一個有名望的家庭的一員是一樁幸運!同樣，一個人血統里有一種鼓舞他向上的動力，也是一樁幸運。一個人有一個族名作為走進上流社會的橋梁，是一樁美事。貴族是高貴的意思。它是一塊金幣，上面刻著它的價值。我們這個時代的調子——許多詩人也自然隨聲附和——是：一切高貴的東西總是愚蠢和沒有價值的;至于窮人，他們越不行，他們就越聰明。不過這不是我的見解，因為我認為這種看法完全是錯誤的，虛偽的。在上流階級里面，人們可以發現許多美麗和感動人的特點。我的母親告訴過我一個例子，而且我還可以舉出許多別的來。她到城里去拜訪一個貴族家庭。我想，我的祖母曾經當過那家主婦的乳母。我的母親有一天跟那位高貴的老爺坐在一個房間里。他看見一個老太婆拄著拐杖蹣跚地走進屋子里來。她是每個禮拜天都來的，而且一來就帶走幾個銀毫。‘這是一個可憐的老太婆，’老爺說：‘她走路真不容易!’在我的母親還沒有懂得他的意思以前，他就走出了房門，跑下樓梯，親自走到那個窮苦的老太婆身邊去，免得她為了取幾個銀毫而要走艱難的路。這不過是一件小小的事情;但是，像《圣經》上所寫的寡婦的一文錢②一樣，它在人心的深處，在人類的天性中引起一個回音。詩人就應該把這類事情指出來，歌頌它，特別是在我們這個時代，因為這會發生好的作用，會說服人心。不過有的人，因為有高貴的血統，同時出身于望族，常常像阿拉伯的馬一樣，喜歡翹起前腿在大街上嘶鳴。只要有一個普通人來過，他就在房間里說‘平民曾經到過此地!’這說明貴族在腐化，變成了一個貴族的假面具，一個德斯比斯③所創造的那種面具。人們譏笑這種人，把他當成諷刺的對象。”
這就是牧師的兒子的一番議論。它的確未免太長了一點，但在這期間，那管笛子卻雕成了。
公館里有一大批客人。他們都是從附近地區和京城里來的。有些女士們穿得很入時，有的不入時。大客廳里擠滿了人。附近地區的一些牧師都是恭而敬之擠在一個角落里——這使人覺得好像要舉行一個葬禮似的。但是這卻是一個歡樂的場合，只不過歡樂還沒有開始罷了。
這兒應該有一個盛大的音樂會才好。因此一位少男爵就把他的柳樹笛子取出來，不過他吹不出聲音來，他的爸爸也吹不出，所以它成了一個廢物。
這兒現在有了音樂，也有了歌唱，它們都使演唱者本人感到最愉快，當然這也不壞!
“您也是一個音樂家嗎?”一位漂亮紳士——他只不過是他父母的兒子——說。“你吹奏這管笛子，而且你還親手把它雕出來。這簡直是天才，而天才坐在光榮的席位上，統治著一切。啊，天啦!我是在跟著時代走——每個人非這樣不可。啊，請你用這小小的樂起來迷住我們一下吧，好不好?”
于是他就把用水池旁的那株柳樹枝雕成的笛子交給牧師的兒子。他同時大聲說，這位家庭教師將要用這樂器對大家作一個獨奏。
現在他們要開他的玩笑，這是很清楚的了。因此這位家庭教師就不吹了，雖然他可以吹得很好。但是他們卻堅持要他吹，弄得他最后只好拿起笛子，湊到嘴上。
這真是一管奇妙的笛子!它發出一個怪聲音，比蒸汽機所發出的汽笛聲還要粗。它在院子上空，在花園和森林里盤旋，遠遠地飄到田野上去。跟這音調同時，吹來了一陣呼嘯的狂風，它呼嘯著說：“各得其所!”于是爸爸就好像被風在吹動似地，飛出了大廳，落在牧人的房間里去了;而牧人也飛起來，但是卻沒有飛進那個大廳里去，因為他不能去——嗨，他卻飛到仆人的宿舍里去，飛到那些穿著絲襪子、大搖大擺地走著路的、漂亮的侍從中間去。這些驕傲的仆人們被弄得目瞪口呆，想道：這么一個下賤的人物居然敢跟他們一道坐上桌子。
但是在大廳里，年輕的女男爵飛到了桌子的首席上去。她是有資格坐在這兒的。牧師的兒子坐在她的旁邊。他們兩人這樣坐著，好像他們是一對新婚夫婦似的。只有一位老伯爵——他屬于這國家的一個最老的家族——仍然坐在他尊貴的位子上沒有動;因為這管笛子是很公正的，人也應該是這樣。那位幽默的漂亮紳士——他只不過是他父親的兒子——這次吹笛的煽動人，倒栽蔥地飛進一個雞屋里去了，但他并不是孤獨地一個人在那兒。
在附近一帶十多里地以內，大家都聽到了笛聲和這些奇怪的事情。一個富有商人的全家，坐在一輛四騎馬拉的車子里，被吹出了車廂，連在車后都找不到一塊地方站著。兩個有錢的農夫，他們在我們這個時代長得比他們田里的麥子還高，卻被吹到泥巴溝里去了。這是一管危險的笛子!很幸運的是，它在發出第一個調子后就裂開了。這是一件好事，因為這樣它就又被放進衣袋里去了：“各得其所!”
隨后的一天，誰也不提起這件事情，因此我們就有了“笛子入袋”這個成語。每件東西都回到它原來的位子上。只有那個小販和牧鵝女的畫像掛到大客廳里來了。它們是被吹到那兒的墻上去的。正如一位真正的鑒賞家說過的一樣，它們是由一位名家畫出來的;所以它們現在掛在它們應該掛的地方。人們從前不知道它們有什么價值，而人們又怎么會知道呢?現在它們懸在光榮的位置上：“各得其所!”事情就是這樣!永恒的真理是很長的——比這個故事要長得多。
①這是丹麥的一句古老的諺語，原文意譯是：“富人出行，聲勢浩大!”
②即錢少而可貴的意思，原出《圣經·新約·馬可福音》：耶穌對銀庫坐著，看眾人怎樣投錢入庫。有好些財主，往里投了若干的錢。有一個窮寡婦來，往里投了兩個小錢，這就是一個大錢。耶穌叫門徒來，說，我實在告訴你們，這窮寡婦投入庫里的，比眾人所投的最多。因為他們都是自己有余，拿出來投在里頭。但這寡婦是自己不足，把她一切養生的都投上了。
③德斯比斯(Thespis)是紀元前六世紀的希臘一個戲劇家，悲劇的創始者。
各得其所英文版：
Everything in the Right Place
IT is more than a hundred years ago! At the border of the wood, near a large lake, stood the old mansion: deep ditches surrounded it on every side, in which reeds and bulrushes grew. Close by the drawbridge, near the gate, there was an old willow tree, which bent over the reeds.
From the narrow pass came the sound of bugles and the trampling of horses’ feet; therefore a little girl who was watching the geese hastened to drive them away from the bridge, before the whole hunting party came galloping up; they came, however, so quickly, that the girl, in order to avoid being run over, placed herself on one of the high corner-stones of the bridge. She was still half a child and very delicately built; she had bright blue eyes, and a gentle, sweet expression. But such things the baron did not notice; while he was riding past the little goose-girl, he reversed his hunting crop, and in rough play gave her such a push with it that she fell backward into the ditch.
“Everything in the right place!” he cried. “Into the ditch with you.”
Then he burst out laughing, for that he called fun; the others joined in—the whole party shouted and cried, while the hounds barked.
While the poor girl was falling she happily caught one of the branches of the willow tree, by the help of which she held herself over the water, and as soon as the baron with his company and the dogs had disappeared through the gate, the girl endeavoured to scramble up, but the branch broke off, and she would have fallen backward among the rushes, had not a strong hand from above seized her at this moment. It was the hand of a pedlar; he had witnessed what had happened from a short distance, and now hastened to assist her.
“Everything in the right place,” he said, imitating the noble baron, and pulling the little maid up to the dry ground. He wished to put the branch back in the place it had been broken off, but it is not possible to put everything in the right place; therefore he stuck the branch into the soft ground.
“Grow and thrive if you can, and produce a good flute for them yonder at the mansion,” he said; it would have given him great pleasure to see the noble baron and his companions well thrashed. Then he entered the castle—but not the banqueting hall; he was too humble for that. No; he went to the servants’ hall. The men-servants and maids looked over his stock of articles and bargained with him; loud crying and screaming were heard from the master’s table above: they called it singing—indeed, they did their best. Laughter and the howls of dogs were heard through the open windows: there they were feasting and revelling; wine and strong old ale were foaming in the glasses and jugs; the favourite dogs ate with their masters; now and then the squires kissed one of these animals, after having wiped its mouth first with the tablecloth. They ordered the pedlar to come up, but only to make fun of him. The wine had got into their heads, and reason had left them. They poured beer into a stocking that he could drink with them, but quick. That’s what they called fun, and it made them laugh. Then meadows, peasants, and farmyards were staked on one card and lost.
“Everything in the right place!” the pedlar said when he had at last safely got out of Sodom and Gomorrah, as he called it. “The open high road is my right place; up there I did not feel at ease.”
The little maid, who was still watching the geese, nodded kindly to him as he passed through the gate.
Days and weeks passed, and it was seen that the broken willow-branch which the peddlar had stuck into the ground near the ditch remained fresh and green—nay, it even put forth fresh twigs; the little goose-girl saw that the branch had taken root, and was very pleased; the tree, so she said, was now her tree. While the tree was advancing, everything else at the castle was going backward, through feasting and gambling, for these are two rollers upon which nobody stands safely. Less than six years afterwards the baron passed out of his castle-gate a poor beggar, while the baronial seat had been bought by a rich tradesman. He was the very pedlar they had made fun of and poured beer into a stocking for him to drink; but honesty and industry bring one forward, and now the pedlar was the possessor of the baronial estate. From that time forward no card-playing was permitted there.
“That’s a bad pastime,” he said; “when the devil saw the Bible for the first time he wanted to produce a caricature in opposition to it, and invented card-playing.”
The new proprietor of the estate took a wife, and whom did he take?—The little goose-girl, who had always remained good and kind, and who looked as beautiful in her new clothes as if she had been a lady of high birth. And how did all this come about? That would be too long a tale to tell in our busy time, but it really happened, and the most important events have yet to be told.
It was pleasant and cheerful to live in the old place now: the mother superintended the household, and the father looked after things out-of-doors, and they were indeed very prosperous.
Where honesty leads the way, prosperity is sure to follow. The old mansion was repaired and painted, the ditches were cleaned and fruit-trees planted; all was homely and pleasant, and the floors were as white and shining as a pasteboard. In the long winter evenings the mistress and her maids sat at the spinning-wheel in the large hall; every Sunday the counsellor—this title the pedlar had obtained, although only in his old days—read aloud a portion from the Bible. The children (for they had children) all received the best education, but they were not all equally clever, as is the case in all families.
In the meantime the willow tree near the drawbridge had grown up into a splendid tree, and stood there, free, and was never clipped. “It is our genealogical tree,” said the old people to their children, “and therefore it must be honoured.”
A hundred years had elapsed. It was in our own days; the lake had been transformed into marsh land; the whole baronial seat had, as it were, disappeared. A pool of water near some ruined walls was the only remainder of the deep ditches; and here stood a magnificent old tree with overhanging branches—that was the genealogical tree. Here it stood, and showed how beautiful a willow can look if one does not interfere with it. The trunk, it is true, was cleft in the middle from the root to the crown; the storms had bent it a little, but it still stood there, and out of every crevice and cleft, in which wind and weather had carried mould, blades of grass and flowers sprang forth. Especially above, where the large boughs parted, there was quite a hanging garden, in which wild raspberries and hart’s-tongue ferns throve, and even a little mistletoe had taken root, and grew gracefully in the old willow branches, which were reflected in the dark water beneath when the wind blew the chickweed into the corner of the pool. A footpath which led across the fields passed close by the old tree. High up, on the woody hillside, stood the new mansion. It had a splendid view, and was large and magnificent; its window panes were so clear that one might have thought there were none there at all. The large flight of steps which led to the entrance looked like a bower covered with roses and broad-leaved plants. The lawn was as green as if each blade of grass was cleaned separately morning and evening. Inside, in the hall, valuable oil paintings were hanging on the walls. Here stood chairs and sofas covered with silk and velvet, which could be easily rolled about on castors; there were tables with polished marble tops, and books bound in morocco with gilt edges. Indeed, well-to-do and distinguished people lived here; it was the dwelling of the baron and his family. Each article was in keeping with its surroundings. “Everything in the right place” was the motto according to which they also acted here, and therefore all the paintings which had once been the honour and glory of the old mansion were now hung up in the passage which led to the servants’ rooms. It was all old lumber, especially two portraits—one representing a man in a scarlet coat with a wig, and the other a lady with powdered and curled hair holding a rose in her hand, each of them being surrounded by a large wreath of willow branches. Both portraits had many holes in them, because the baron’s sons used the two old people as targets for their crossbows. They represented the counsellor and his wife, from whom the whole family descended. “But they did not properly belong to our family,” said one of the boys; “he was a pedlar and she kept the geese. They were not like papa and mamma.” The portraits were old lumber, and “everything in its right place.” That was why the great-grandparents had been hung up in the passage leading to the servants’ rooms.
The son of the village pastor was tutor at the mansion. One day he went for a walk across the fields with his young pupils and their elder sister, who had lately been confirmed. They walked along the road which passed by the old willow tree, and while they were on the road she picked a bunch of field-flowers. “Everything in the right place,” and indeed the bunch looked very beautiful. At the same time she listened to all that was said, and she very much liked to hear the pastor’s son speak about the elements and of the great men and women in history. She had a healthy mind, noble in thought and deed, and with a heart full of love for everything that God had created. They stopped at the old willow tree, as the youngest of the baron’s sons wished very much to have a flute from it, such as had been cut for him from other willow trees; the pastor’s son broke a branch off. “Oh, pray do not do it!” said the young lady; but it was already done. “That is our famous old tree. I love it very much. They often laugh at me at home about it, but that does not matter. There is a story attached to this tree.” And now she told him all that we already know about the tree—the old mansion, the pedlar and the goose-girl who had met there for the first time, and had become the ancestors of the noble family to which the young lady belonged.
“They did not like to be knighted, the good old people,” she said; “their motto was ‘everything in the right place,’ and it would not be right, they thought, to purchase a title for money. My grandfather, the first baron, was their son. They say he was a very learned man, a great favourite with the princes and princesses, and was invited to all court festivities. The others at home love him best; but, I do not know why, there seemed to me to be something about the old couple that attracts my heart! How homely, how patriarchal, it must have been in the old mansion, where the mistress sat at the spinning-wheel with her maids, while her husband read aloud out of the Bible!”
“They must have been excellent, sensible people,” said the pastor’s son. And with this the conversation turned naturally to noblemen and commoners; from the manner in which the tutor spoke about the significance of being noble, it seemed almost as if he did not belong to a commoner’s family.
“It is good fortune to be of a family who have distinguished themselves, and to possess as it were a spur in oneself to advance to all that is good. It is a splendid thing to belong to a noble family, whose name serves as a card of admission to the highest circles. Nobility is a distinction; it is a gold coin that bears the stamp of its own value. It is the fallacy of the time, and many poets express it, to say that all that is noble is bad and stupid, and that, on the contrary, the lower one goes among the poor, the more brilliant virtues one finds. I do not share this opinion, for it is wrong. In the upper classes one sees many touchingly beautiful traits; my own mother has told me of such, and I could mention several. One day she was visiting a nobleman’s house in town; my grandmother, I believe, had been the lady’s nurse when she was a child. My mother and the nobleman were alone in the room, when he suddenly noticed an old woman on crutches come limping into the courtyard; she came every Sunday to carry a gift away with her.
“‘There is the poor old woman,’ said the nobleman; ‘it is so difficult for her to walk.’
“My mother had hardly understood what he said before he disappeared from the room, and went downstairs, in order to save her the troublesome walk for the gift she came to fetch. Of course this is only a little incident, but it has its good sound like the poor widow’s two mites in the Bible, the sound which echoes in the depth of every human heart; and this is what the poet ought to show and point out—more especially in our own time he ought to sing of this; it does good, it mitigates and reconciles! But when a man, simply because he is of noble birth and possesses a genealogy, stands on his hind legs and neighs in the street like an Arabian horse, and says when a commoner has been in a room: ‘Some people from the street have been here,’ there nobility is decaying; it has become a mask of the kind that Thespis created, and it is amusing when such a person is exposed in satire.”
Such was the tutor’s speech; it was a little long, but while he delivered it he had finished cutting the flute.
There was a large party at the mansion; many guests from the neighbourhood and from the capital had arrived. There were ladies with tasteful and with tasteless dresses; the big hall was quite crowded with people. The clergymen stood humbly together in a corner, and looked as if they were preparing for a funeral, but it was a festival—only the amusement had not yet begun. A great concert was to take place, and that is why the baron’s young son had brought his willow flute with him; but he could not make it sound, nor could his father, and therefore the flute was good for nothing.
There was music and songs of the kind which delight most those that perform them; otherwise quite charming!
“Are you an artist?” said a cavalier, the son of his father; “you play on the flute, you have made it yourself; it is genius that rules—the place of honour is due to you.”
“Certainly not! I only advance with the time, and that of course one can’t help.”
“I hope you will delight us all with the little instrument—will you not?” Thus saying he handed to the tutor the flute which had been cut from the willow tree by the pool; and then announced in a loud voice that the tutor wished to perform a solo on the flute. They wished to tease him—that was evident, and therefore the tutor declined to play, although he could do so very well. They urged and requested him, however, so long, that at last he took up the flute and placed it to his lips.
That was a marvellous flute! Its sound was as thrilling as the whistle of a steam engine; in fact it was much stronger, for it sounded and was heard in the yard, in the garden, in the wood, and many miles round in the country; at the same time a storm rose and roared; “Everything in the right place.” And with this the baron, as if carried by the wind, flew out of the hall straight into the shepherd’s cottage, and the shepherd flew—not into the hall, thither he could not come—but into the servants’ hall, among the smart footmen who were striding about in silk stockings; these haughty menials looked horror-struck that such a person ventured to sit at table with them. But in the hall the baron’s daughter flew to the place of honour at the end of the table—she was worthy to sit there; the pastor’s son had the seat next to her; the two sat there as if they were a bridal pair. An old Count, belonging to one of the oldest families of the country, remained untouched in his place of honour; the flute was just, and it is one’s duty to be so. The sharp-tongued cavalier who had caused the flute to be played, and who was the child of his parents, flew headlong into the fowl-house, but not he alone.
The flute was heard at the distance of a mile, and strange events took place. A rich banker’s family, who were driving in a coach and four, were blown out of it, and could not even find room behind it with their footmen. Two rich farmers who had in our days shot up higher than their own corn-fields, were flung into the ditch; it was a dangerous flute. Fortunately it burst at the first sound, and that was a good thing, for then it was put back into its owner’s pocket—“its right place.”
The next day, nobody spoke a word about what had taken place; thus originated the phrase, “to pocket the flute.” Everything was again in its usual order, except that the two old pictures of the peddlar and the goose-girl were hanging in the banqueting-hall. There they were on the wall as if blown up there; and as a real expert said that they were painted by a master’s hand, they remained there and were restored. “Everything in the right place,” and to this it will come. Eternity is long, much longer indeed than this story.
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