THE FLYING TRUNK

                                  1872

                 FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

                            THE FLYING TRUNK

                       by Hans Christian Andersen



THERE was once a merchant who was so rich that he could have paved

the whole street with gold, and would even then have had enough for

a small alley. But he did not do so; he knew the value of money better

than to use it in this way. So clever was he, that every shilling he

put out brought him a crown; and so he continued till he died. His son

inherited his wealth, and he lived a merry life with it; he went to

a masquerade every night, made kites out of five pound notes, and

threw pieces of gold into the sea instead of stones, making ducks

and drakes of them. In this manner he soon lost all his money. At last

he had nothing left but a pair of slippers, an old dressing-gown,

and four shillings. And now all his friends deserted him, they could

not walk with him in the streets; but one of them, who was very

good-natured, sent him an old trunk with this message, "Pack up!"

"Yes," he said, "it is all very well to say 'pack up,' "but he had

nothing left to pack up, therefore he seated himself in the trunk.

It was a very wonderful trunk; no sooner did any one press on the lock

than the trunk could fly. He shut the lid and pressed the lock, when

away flew the trunk up the chimney with the merchant's son in it,

right up into the clouds. Whenever the bottom of the trunk cracked, he

was in a great fright, for if the trunk fell to pieces he would have

made a tremendous somerset over the trees. However, he got safely in

his trunk to the land of Turkey. He hid the trunk in the wood under

some dry leaves, and then went into the town: he could so this very

well, for the Turks always go about dressed in dressing-gowns and

slippers, as he was himself. He happened to meet a nurse with a little

child. "I say, you Turkish nurse," cried he, "what castle is that near

the town, with the windows placed so high?"

"The king's daughter lives there," she replied; "it has been

prophesied that she will be very unhappy about a lover, and

therefore no one is allowed to visit her, unless the king and queen

are present."

"Thank you," said the merchant's son. So he went back to the wood,

seated himself in his trunk, flew up to the roof of the castle, and

crept through the window into the princess's room. She lay on the sofa

asleep, and she was so beautiful that the merchant's son could not

help kissing her. Then she awoke, and was very much frightened; but he

told her he was a Turkish angel, who had come down through the air

to see her, which pleased her very much. He sat down by her side and

talked to her: he said her eyes were like beautiful dark lakes, in

which the thoughts swam about like little mermaids, and he told her

that her forehead was a snowy mountain, which contained splendid halls

full of pictures. And then he related to her about the stork who

brings the beautiful children from the rivers. These were delightful

stories; and when he asked the princess if she would marry him, she

consented immediately.

"But you must come on Saturday," she said; "for then the king

and queen will take tea with me. They will be very proud when they

find that I am going to marry a Turkish angel; but you must think of

some very pretty stories to tell them, for my parents like to hear

stories better than anything. My mother prefers one that is deep and

moral; but my father likes something funny, to make him laugh."

"Very well," he replied; "I shall bring you no other marriage

portion than a story," and so they parted. But the princess gave him a

sword which was studded with gold coins, and these he could use.

Then he flew away to the town and bought a new dressing-gown,

and afterwards returned to the wood, where he composed a story, so

as to be ready for Saturday, which was no easy matter. It was ready

however by Saturday, when he went to see the princess. The king, and

queen, and the whole court, were at tea with the princess; and he

was received with great politeness.

"Will you tell us a story?" said the queen,- "one that is

instructive and full of deep learning."

"Yes, but with something in it to laugh at," said the king.

"Certainly," he replied, and commenced at once, asking them to

listen attentively. "There was once a bundle of matches that were

exceedingly proud of their high descent. Their genealogical tree, that

is, a large pine-tree from which they had been cut, was at one time

a large, old tree in the wood. The matches now lay between a

tinder-box and an old iron saucepan, and were talking about their

youthful days. 'Ah! then we grew on the green boughs, and were as

green as they; every morning and evening we were fed with diamond

drops of dew. Whenever the sun shone, we felt his warm rays, and the

little birds would relate stories to us as they sung. We knew that

we were rich, for the other trees only wore their green dress in

summer, but our family were able to array themselves in green,

summer and winter. But the wood-cutter came, like a great

revolution, and our family fell under the axe. The head of the house

obtained a situation as mainmast in a very fine ship, and can sail

round the world when he will. The other branches of the family were

taken to different places, and our office now is to kindle a light for

common people. This is how such high-born people as we came to be in a

kitchen.'

"'Mine has been a very different fate,' said the iron pot, which

stood by the matches; 'from my first entrance into the world I have

been used to cooking and scouring. I am the first in this house,

when anything solid or useful is required. My only pleasure is to be

made clean and shining after dinner, and to sit in my place and have a

little sensible conversation with my neighbors. All of us, excepting

the water-bucket, which is sometimes taken into the courtyard, live

here together within these four walls. We get our news from the

market-basket, but he sometimes tells us very unpleasant things

about the people and the government. Yes, and one day an old pot was

so alarmed, that he fell down and was broken to pieces. He was a

liberal, I can tell you.'

"'You are talking too much,' said the tinder-box, and the steel

struck against the flint till some sparks flew out, crying, 'We want a

merry evening, don't we?'

"'Yes, of course,' said the matches, 'let us talk about those

who are the highest born.'

"'No, I don't like to be always talking of what we are,'

remarked the saucepan; 'let us think of some other amusement; I will

begin. We will tell something that has happened to ourselves; that

will be very easy, and interesting as well. On the Baltic Sea, near

the Danish shore'-

"'What a pretty commencement!' said the plates; 'we shall all

like that story, I am sure.'

"'Yes; well in my youth, I lived in a quiet family, where the

furniture was polished, the floors scoured, and clean curtains put

up every fortnight,'

"'What an interesting way you have of relating a story,' said

the carpet-broom; 'it is easy to perceive that you have been a great

deal in women's society, there is something so pure runs through

what you say.'

"'That is quite true,' said the water-bucket; and he made a spring

with joy, and splashed some water on the floor.

"Then the saucepan went on with his story, and the end was as good

as the beginning.

"The plates rattled with pleasure, and the carpet-broom brought

some green parsley out of the dust-hole and crowned the saucepan,

for he knew it would vex the others; and he thought, 'If I crown him

to-day he will crown me to-morrow.'

"'Now, let us have a dance,' said the fire-tongs; and then how

they danced and stuck up one leg in the air. The chair-cushion in

the corner burst with laughter when she saw it.

"'Shall I be crowned now?' asked the fire-tongs; so the broom

found another wreath for the tongs.

"'They were only common people after all,' thought the matches.

The tea-urn was now asked to sing, but she said she had a cold, and

could not sing without boiling heat. They all thought this was

affectation, and because she did not wish to sing excepting in the

parlor, when on the table with the grand people.

"In the window sat an old quill-pen, with which the maid generally

wrote. There was nothing remarkable about the pen, excepting that it

had been dipped too deeply in the ink, but it was proud of that.

"'If the tea-urn won't sing,' said the pen, 'she can leave it

alone; there is a nightingale in a cage who can sing; she has not been

taught much, certainly, but we need not say anything this evening

about that.'

"'I think it highly improper,' said the tea-kettle, who was

kitchen singer, and half-brother to the tea-urn, 'that a rich

foreign bird should be listened to here. Is it patriotic? Let the

market-basket decide what is right.'

"'I certainly am vexed,' said the basket; 'inwardly vexed, more

than any one can imagine. Are we spending the evening properly?

Would it not be more sensible to put the house in order? If each

were in his own place I would lead a game; this would be quite another

thing.'

"'Let us act a play,' said they all. At the same moment the door

opened, and the maid came in. Then not one stirred; they all

remained quite still; yet, at the same time, there was not a single

pot amongst them who had not a high opinion of himself, and of what he

could do if he chose.

"'Yes, if we had chosen,' they each thought, 'we might have

spent a very pleasant evening.'

"The maid took the matches and lighted them; dear me, how they

sputtered and blazed up!

"'Now then,' they thought, 'every one will see that we are the

first. How we shine; what a light we give!' Even while they spoke

their light went out.

"What a capital story," said the queen, "I feel as if I were

really in the kitchen, and could see the matches; yes, you shall marry

our daughter."

"Certainly," said the king, "thou shalt have our daughter." The

king said thou to him because he was going to be one of the family.

The wedding-day was fixed, and, on the evening before, the whole

city was illuminated. Cakes and sweetmeats were thrown among the

people. The street boys stood on tiptoe and shouted "hurrah," and

whistled between their fingers; altogether it was a very splendid

affair.

"I will give them another treat," said the merchant's son. So he

went and bought rockets and crackers, and all sorts of fire-works that

could be thought of, packed them in his trunk, and flew up with it

into the air. What a whizzing and popping they made as they went

off! The Turks, when they saw such a sight in the air, jumped so

high that their slippers flew about their ears. It was easy to believe

after this that the princess was really going to marry a Turkish

angel.

As soon as the merchant's son had come down in his flying trunk to

the wood after the fireworks, he thought, "I will go back into the

town now, and hear what they think of the entertainment." It was

very natural that he should wish to know. And what strange things

people did say, to be sure! every one whom he questioned had a

different tale to tell, though they all thought it very beautiful.

"'I saw the Turkish angel myself," said one; "he had eyes like

glittering stars, and a head like foaming water."

"He flew in a mantle of fire," cried another, "and lovely little

cherubs peeped out from the folds."

He heard many more fine things about himself, and that the next

day he was to be married. After this he went back to the forest to

rest himself in his trunk. It had disappeared! A spark from the

fireworks which remained had set it on fire; it was burnt to ashes! So

the merchant's son could not fly any more, nor go to meet his bride.

She stood all day on the roof waiting for him, and most likely she

is waiting there still; while he wanders through the world telling

fairy tales, but none of them so amusing as the one he related about

the matches.

                        THE END

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