THE MAIL-COACH PASSENGERS

                                  1872

                 FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

                       THE MAIL-COACH PASSENGERS

                       by Hans Christian Andersen



IT was bitterly cold, the sky glittered with stars, and not a

breeze stirred. "Bump"- an old pot was thrown at a neighbor's door;

and "bang, bang," went the guns; for they were greeting the New

Year. It was New Year's Eve, and the church clock was striking twelve.

"Tan-ta-ra-ra, tan-ta-ra-ra," sounded the horn, and the mail-coach

came lumbering up. The clumsy vehicle stopped at the gate of the town;

all the places had been taken, for there were twelve passengers in the

coach.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried the people in the town; for in every house

the New Year was being welcomed; and as the clock struck, they stood

up, the full glasses in their hands, to drink success to the new

comer. "A happy New Year," was the cry; "a pretty wife, plenty of

money, and no sorrow or care."

The wish passed round, and the glasses clashed together till

they rang again; while before the town-gate the mail coach stopped

with the twelve strange passengers. And who were these strangers? Each

of them had his passport and his luggage with him; they even brought

presents for me, and for you, and for all the people in the town. "Who

were they? what did they want? and what did they bring with them?"

"Good-morning," they cried to the sentry at the town-gate.

"Good-morning," replied the sentry; for the clock had struck

twelve. "Your name and profession?" asked the sentry of the one who

alighted first from the carriage.

"See for yourself in the passport," he replied. "I am myself;" and

a famous fellow he looked, arrayed in bear-skin and fur boots. "I am

the man on whom many persons fix their hopes. Come to me to-morrow,

and I'll give you a New Year's present. I throw shillings and pence

among the people; I give balls, no less than thirty-one; indeed,

that is the highest number I can spare for balls. My ships are often

frozen in, but in my offices it is warm and comfortable. My name is

JANUARY. I'm a merchant, and I generally bring my accounts with me."

Then the second alighted. He seemed a merry fellow. He was a

director of a theatre, a manager of masked balls, and a leader of

all the amusements we can imagine. His luggage consisted of a great

cask.

"We'll dance the bung out of the cask at carnival time," said

he; "I'll prepare a merry tune for you and for myself too.

Unfortunately I have not long to live- the shortest time, in fact,

of my whole family- only twenty-eight days. Sometimes they pop me in a

day extra; but I trouble myself very little about that. Hurrah!"

"You must not shout so," said the sentry.

"Certainly I may shout," retorted the man; "I'm Prince Carnival,

travelling under the name of FEBRUARY."

The third now got out. He looked a personification of fasting; but

he carried his nose very high, for he was related to the "forty

(k)nights," and was a weather prophet. But that is not a very

lucrative office, and therefore he praised fasting. In his button-hole

he carried a little bunch of violets, but they were very small.

"MARCH, March," the fourth called after him, slapping him on the

shoulder, "don't you smell something? Make haste into the guard

room; they're drinking punch there; that's your favorite drink. I

can smell it out here already. Forward, Master March." But it was

not true; the speaker only wanted to remind him of his name, and to

make an APRIL fool of him; for with that fun the fourth generally

began his career. He looked very jovial, did little work, and had

the more holidays. "If the world were only a little more settled,"

said he: "but sometimes I'm obliged to be in a good humor, and

sometimes a bad one, according to circumstances; now rain, now

sunshine. I'm kind of a house agent, also a manager of funerals. I can

laugh or cry, according to circumstances. I have my summer wardrobe in

this box here, but it would be very foolish to put it on now. Here I

am. On Sundays I go out walking in shoes and white silk stockings, and

a muff."

After him, a lady stepped out of the coach. She called herself

Miss MAY. She wore a summer dress and overshoes; her dress was a light

green, and she wore anemones in her hair. She was so scented with

wild-thyme, that it made the sentry sneeze.

"Your health, and God bless you," was her salutation to him.

How pretty she was! and such a singer! not a theatre singer, nor a

ballad singer; no, but a singer of the woods; for she wandered through

the gay green forest, and had a concert there for her own amusement.

"Now comes the young lady," said those in the carriage; and out

stepped a young dame, delicate, proud, and pretty. It was Mistress

JUNE, in whose service people become lazy and fond of sleeping for

hours. She gives a feast on the longest day of the year, that there

may be time for her guests to partake of the numerous dishes at her

table. Indeed, she keeps her own carriage; but still she travelled

by the mail, with the rest, because she wished to show that she was

not high-minded. But she was not without a protector; her younger

brother, JULY, was with her. He was a plump young fellow, clad in

summer garments and wearing a straw hat. He had but very little

luggage with him, because it was so cumbersome in the great heat; he

had, however, swimming-trousers with him, which are nothing to

carry. Then came the mother herself, in crinoline, Madame AUGUST, a

wholesale dealer in fruit, proprietress of a large number of fish

ponds and a land cultivator. She was fat and heated, yet she could use

her hands well, and would herself carry out beer to the laborers in

the field. "In the sweat of the face shalt thou eat bread," said

she; "it is written in the Bible." After work, came the recreations,

dancing and playing in the greenwood, and the "harvest homes." She was

a thorough housewife.

After her a man came out of the coach, who is a painter; he is the

great master of colors, and is named SEPTEMBER. The forest, on his

arrival, had to change its colors when he wished it; and how beautiful

are the colors he chooses! The woods glow with hues of red and gold

and brown. This great master painter could whistle like a blackbird.

He was quick in his work, and soon entwined the tendrils of the hop

plant around his beer jug. This was an ornament to the jug, and he has

a great love for ornament. There he stood with his color pot in his

hand, and that was the whole of his luggage. A land-owner followed,

who in the month for sowing seed attended to the ploughing and was

fond of field sports. Squire OCTOBER brought his dog and his gun

with him, and had nuts in his game bag. "Crack, crack." He had a great

deal of luggage, even an English plough. He spoke of farming, but what

he said could scarcely be heard for the coughing and gasping of his

neighbor. It was NOVEMBER, who coughed violently as he got out. He had

a cold, which caused him to use his pocket-handkerchief continually;

and yet he said he was obliged to accompany servant girls to their new

places, and initiate them into their winter service. He said he

thought his cold would never leave him when he went out woodcutting,

for he was a master sawyer, and had to supply wood to the whole

parish. He spent his evenings preparing wooden soles for skates, for

he knew, he said, that in a few weeks these shoes would be wanted

for the amusement of skating. At length the last passenger made her

appearance,- old Mother DECEMBER, with her fire-stool. The dame was

very old, but her eyes glistened like two stars. She carried on her

arm a flower-pot, in which a little fir-tree was growing. "This tree I

shall guard and cherish," she said, "that it may grow large by

Christmas Eve, and reach from the ground to the ceiling, to be covered

and adorned with flaming candles, golden apples, and little figures.

The fire-stool will be as warm as a stove, and I shall then bring a

story book out of my pocket, and read aloud till all the children in

the room are quite quiet. Then the little figures on the tree will

become lively, and the little waxen angel at the top spread out his

wings of gold-leaf, and fly down from his green perch. He will kiss

every one in the room, great and small; yes, even the poor children

who stand in the passage, or out in the street singing a carol about

the 'Star of Bethlehem.'"

"Well, now the coach may drive away," said the sentry; "we have

the whole twelve. Let the horses be put up."

"First, let all the twelve come to me," said the captain on

duty, "one after another. The passports I will keep here. Each of them

is available for one month; when that has passed, I shall write the

behavior of each on his passport. Mr. JANUARY, have the goodness to

come here." And Mr. January stepped forward.

When a year has passed, I think I shall be able to tell you what

the twelve passengers have brought to you, to me, and to all of us.

Now I do not know, and probably even they don't know themselves, for

we live in strange times.

                        THE END

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