The Goloshes of Fortune Page #4

"The Goloshes of Fortune" is a magical and whimsical tale by Hans Christian Andersen. It tells the story of a pair of magical boots that grant the wearer's deepest desires, taking them on unpredictable adventures. The book explores themes of desire, contentment, and the notion that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. It's a delightful story reminding us to appreciate what we have, as our hasty wishes may lead to unexpected consequences.

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seemed just as soft, and pictured forth cloudy turrets and sail-like
terraces, quite transparent, and floating in the thin air. Our earth
hung over his head like a great dark red ball. Presently he discovered
a number of beings, which might certainly be called men, but were very
different to ourselves. A more fantastical imagination than Herschel's
must have discovered these. Had they been placed in groups, and
painted, it might have been said, "What beautiful foliage!" They had
also a language of their own. No one could have expected the soul of
the watchman to understand it, and yet he did understand it, for our
souls have much greater capabilities then we are inclined to
believe. Do we not, in our dreams, show a wonderful dramatic talent?
each of our acquaintance appears to us then in his own character,
and with his own voice; no man could thus imitate them in his waking
hours. How clearly, too, we are reminded of persons whom we have not
seen for many years; they start up suddenly to the mind's eye with all
their peculiarities as living realities. In fact, this memory of the
soul is a fearful thing; every sin, every sinful thought it can
bring back, and we may well ask how we are to give account of "every
idle word" that may have been whispered in the heart or uttered with
the lips. The spirit of the watchman therefore understood very well
the language of the inhabitants of the moon. They were disputing about
our earth, and doubted whether it could be inhabited. The
atmosphere, they asserted, must be too dense for any inhabitants of
the moon to exist there. They maintained that the moon alone was
inhabited, and was really the heavenly body in which the old world
people lived. They likewise talked politics.

But now we will descend to East Street, and see what happened to
the watchman's body. He sat lifeless on the steps. His staff had
fallen out of his hand, and his eyes stared at the moon, about which
his honest soul was wandering.

"What is it o'clock, watchman?" inquired a passenger. But there
was no answer from the watchman.

The man then pulled his nose gently, which caused him to lose
his balance. The body fell forward, and lay at full length on the
ground as one dead.

All his comrades were very much frightened, for he seemed quite
dead; still they allowed him to remain after they had given notice
of what had happened; and at dawn the body was carried to the
hospital. We might imagine it to be no jesting matter if the soul of
the man should chance to return to him, for most probably it would
seek for the body in East Street without being able to find it. We
might fancy the soul inquiring of the police, or at the address
office, or among the missing parcels, and then at length finding it at
the hospital. But we may comfort ourselves by the certainty that the
soul, when acting upon its own impulses, is wiser than we are; it is
the body that makes it stupid.

As we have said, the watchman's body had been taken to the
hospital, and here it was placed in a room to be washed. Naturally,
the first thing done here was to take off the goloshes, upon which the
soul was instantly obliged to return, and it took the direct road to
the body at once, and in a few seconds the man's life returned to him.
He declared, when he quite recovered himself, that this had been the
most dreadful night he had ever passed; not for a hundred pounds would
he go through such feelings again. However, it was all over now.

The same day he was allowed to leave, but the goloshes remained at
the hospital.


THE EVENTFUL MOMENT--A MOST UNUSUAL JOURNEY

Every inhabitant of Copenhagen knows what the entrance to
Frederick's Hospital is like; but as most probably a few of those
who read this little tale may not reside in Copenhagen, we will give a
short description of it.

The hospital is separated from the street by an iron railing, in
which the bars stand so wide apart that, it is said, some very slim
patients have squeezed through, and gone to pay little visits in the
town. The most difficult part of the body to get through was the head;
and in this case, as it often happens in the world, the small heads
were the most fortunate. This will serve as sufficient introduction to
our tale. One of the young volunteers, of whom, physically speaking,
it might be said that he had a great head, was on guard that evening
at the hospital. The rain was pouring down, yet, in spite of these two
obstacles, he wanted to go out just for a quarter of an hour; it was
not worth while, he thought, to make a confidant of the porter, as
he could easily slip through the iron railings. There lay the
goloshes, which the watchman had forgotten. It never occurred to him
that these could be goloshes of Fortune. They would be very
serviceable to him in this rainy weather, so he drew them on. Now came
the question whether he could squeeze through the palings; he
certainly had never tried, so he stood looking at them. "I wish to
goodness my head was through," said he, and instantly, though it was
so thick and large, it slipped through quite easily. The goloshes
answered that purpose very well, but his body had to follow, and
this was impossible. "I am too fat," he said; "I thought my head would
be the worst, but I cannot get my body through, that is certain." Then
he tried to pull his head back again, but without success; he could
move his neck about easily enough, and that was all. His first feeling
was one of anger, and then his spirits sank below zero. The goloshes
of Fortune had placed him in this terrible position, and unfortunately
it never occurred to him to wish himself free. No, instead of
wishing he kept twisting about, yet did not stir from the spot. The
rain poured, and not a creature could be seen in the street. The
porter's bell he was unable to reach, and however was he to get loose!
He foresaw that he should have to stay there till morning, and then
they must send for a smith to file away the iron bars, and that
would be a work of time. All the charity children would just be
going to school: and all the sailors who inhabited that quarter of the
town would be there to see him standing in the pillory. What a crowd
there would be. "Ha," he cried, "the blood is rushing to my head,
and I shall go mad. I believe I am crazy already; oh, I wish I were
free, then all these sensations would pass off." This is just what
he ought to have said at first. The moment he had expressed the
thought his head was free. He started back, quite bewildered with
the fright which the goloshes of Fortune had caused him. But we must
not suppose it was all over; no, indeed, there was worse to come
yet. The night passed, and the whole of the following day; but no
one sent for the goloshes. In the evening a declamatory performance
was to take place at the amateur theatre in a distant street. The
house was crowded; among the audience was the young volunteer from the
hospital, who seemed to have quite forgotten his adventures of the
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