The Neighbouring Families Page #2

The Neighbouring Families is a delightful collection of fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen. The book explores themes of friendship, love, and the significant impact of societal and familiar relations on individual lives, presented through enchanting narratives starring both humans and fantastical creatures living in harmony. The stories in this book are tinged with humor, wit, and classic Andersonian wisdom that amuse as well as provoke deeper reflection.

• Children

								

horse-hair was drawn tightly round her leg--as tightly as if the
latter were to be cut off; she was in great pain and terror. The
boys came running up and seized her, and in no gentle way either.

"It's only a sparrow," they said; they did not, however, let her
go, but took her home with them, and every time she cried they hit her
on the beak.

In the farmhouse was an old man who understood making soap into
cakes and balls, both for shaving and washing. He was a merry old man,
always wandering about. On seeing the sparrow which the boys had
brought, and which they said they did not want, he asked, "Shall we
make it look very pretty?"

At these words an icy shudder ran through the sparrow-mother.

Out of his box, in which were the most beautiful colours, the
old man took a quantity of shining leaf-gold, while the boys had to go
and fetch some white of egg, with which the sparrow was to be
smeared all over; the gold was stuck on to this, and the
sparrow-mother was now gilded all over. But she, trembling in every
limb, did not think of the adornment. Then the soap-man tore off a
small piece from the red lining of his old jacket, and cutting it so
as to make it look like a cock's comb, he stuck it to the bird's head.

"Now you will see the gold-jacket fly," said the old man,
letting the sparrow go, which flew away in deadly fear, with the sun
shining upon her. How she glittered! All the sparrows, and even a
crow--and an old boy he was too--were startled at the sight; but still
they flew after her to learn what kind of strange bird she was.

Driven by fear and horror, she flew homeward; she was almost
sinking fainting to the earth, while the flock of pursuing birds
increased, some even attempting to peck at her.

"Look at her! Look at her!" they all cried.

"Look at her! Look at her" cried her little ones, as she
approached the nest. "That is certainly a young peacock, for it
glitters in all colours; it makes one's eyes ache, as mother told
us. Peep! that's 'the beautiful'." And then they pecked at the bird
with their little beaks so that it was impossible for her to get
into the nest; she was so exhausted that she couldn't even say "Peep!"
much less "I am your own mother!" The other birds, too, now fell
upon the sparrow and plucked off feather after feather until she
fell bleeding into the rose-bush.

"Poor creature!" said all the roses; "only be still, and we will
hide you. Lean your little head against us."

The sparrow spread out her wings once more, then drew them closely
to her, and lay dead near the neighbouring family, the beautiful fresh
roses.

"Peep!" sounded from the nest. "Where can mother be so long?
It's more than I can understand. It cannot be a trick of hers, and
mean that we are now to take care of ourselves. She has left us the
house as an inheritance; but to which of us is it to belong when we
have families of our own?"

"Yes, it won't do for you to stay with me when I increase my
household with a wife and children,"' said the smallest.

"I daresay I shall have more wives and children than you," said
the second.

"But I am the eldest!" exclaimed the third. Then they all got
excited; they hit out with their wings, pecked with their beaks, and
flop! one after another was thrown out of the nest. There they lay
with their anger, holding their heads on one side and blinking the eye
that was turned upwards. That was their way of looking foolish.

They could fly a little; by practice they learned to improve,
and at last they agreed upon a sign by which to recognise each other
if they should meet in the world later on. It was to be one "Peep!"
and three scratches on the ground with the left foot.

The young one who had remained behind in the nest made himself
as broad as he could, for he was the proprietor. But this greatness
did not last long. In the night the red flames burst through the
window and seized the roof, the dry straw blazed up high, and the
whole house, together with the young sparrow, was burned. The two
others, who wanted to marry, thus saved their lives by a stroke of
luck.

When the sun rose again and everything looked as refreshed as if
it had had a quiet sleep, there only remained of the farmhouse a few
black charred beams leaning against the chimney, which was now its own
master. Thick smoke still rose from the ruins, but the rose-bush stood
yonder, fresh, blooming, and untouched, every flower and every twig
being reflected in the clear water.

"How beautifully the roses bloom before the ruined house,"
exclaimed a passer-by. "A pleasanter picture cannot be imagined. I
must have that." And the man took out of his portfolio a little book
with white leaves: he was a painter, and with his pencil he drew the
smoking house, the charred beams and the overhanging chimney, which
bent more and more; in the foreground he put the large, blooming
rose-bush, which presented a charming view. For its sake alone the
whole picture had been drawn.

Later in the day the two sparrows who had been born there came by.
"Where is the house?" they asked. "Where is the nest? Peep! All is
burned and our strong brother too. That's what he has now for
keeping the nest. The roses got off very well; there they still
stand with their red cheeks. They certainly do not mourn at their
neighbours' misfortunes. I don't want to talk to them, and it looks
miserable here--that's my opinion." And away they went.

On a beautiful sunny autumn day--one could almost have believed it
was still the middle of summer--there hopped about in the dry
clean-swept courtyard before the principal entrance of the Hall a
number of black, white, and gaily-coloured pigeons, all shining in the
sunlight. The pigeon-mothers said to their young ones: "Stand in
groups, stand in groups! for that looks much better."

"What kind of creatures are those little grey ones that run
about behind us?" asked an old pigeon, with red and green in her eyes.
"Little grey ones! Little grey ones!" she cried.

"They are sparrows, and good creatures. We have always had the
reputation of being pious, so we will allow them to pick up the corn
with us; they don't interrupt our talk, and they scrape so prettily
when they bow."

Indeed they were continually making three foot-scrapings with
the left foot and also said "Peep!" By this means they recognised each
other, for they were the sparrows from the nest on the burned house.

"Here is excellent fare!" said the sparrow. The pigeons strutted
round one another, puffed out their chests mightily, and had their own
private views and opinions.

"Do you see that pouter pigeon?" said one to the other. "Do you
see how she swallows the peas? She eats too many, and the best ones
too. Curoo! Curoo! How she lifts her crest, the ugly, spiteful
creature! Curoo! Curoo!" And the eyes of all sparkled with malice.
"Stand in groups! Stand in groups! Little grey ones, little grey ones!
Curoo, curoo, curoo!"

So their chatter ran on, and so it will run on for thousands of
years. The sparrows ate lustily; they listened attentively, and even
								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes