frozentodeathunderawillow-tree.

theend.

1872

fairytalesofhanschristianandersen

whatonecaninvent

byhanschristianandersen

therewasonceayoungmanwhowasstudyingtobeapoet.hewantedtobecomeonebyeaster,andtomarry,andtolivebywritepoems,heknew,onlyconsistsinbeingabletoinventsomething;buthecouldnotinventanything.hehadbeenborntoolate-everythinghadbeentakenupbeforehecameintotheworld,andeverythinghadbeenwrittenandtoldabout.

"happypeoplewhowerebornathousandyearsago!"saidhe."itwasaneasymatterforthemtobecomeimmortal.happyevenwashewhowasbornahundredyearsago,forthentherewasstillsomethingaboutwhichapoemcouldbewritten.nowtheworldiswrittenout,andwhatcaniwritepoetryabout?"

thenhestudiedtillhebecameillandwretched,thewretchedman!nodoctorcouldhelphim,butperhapsthewisewomancould.shelivedinthelittlehousebythewayside,wherethegateisthatsheopenedforthosewhorodeanddrove.butshecoulddomorethanunlockthegate.shewaswiserthanthedoctorwhodrivesinhisowncarriageandpaystaxforhisrank.

"imustgotoher,"saidtheyoungman.

thehouseinwhichshedweltwassmallandneat,butdrearytobehold,fortherewerenoflowersnearit-notrees.bythedoorstoodabee-hive,whichwasveryuseful.therewasalsoalittlepotato-field,veryuseful,andanearthbank,withsloebushesuponit,whichhaddoneblossoming,andnowborefruit,sloes,thatdrawone'smouthtogetherifonetastesthembeforethefrosthastouchedthem.

"that'satruepictureofourpoetrylesstime,thatiseebeforemenow,"thoughttheyoungman;andthatwasatleastathought,agrainofgoldthathefoundbythedoorofthewisewoman.

"writethatdown!"saidshe."evencrumbsarebread.iknowwhyyoucomehither.youcannotinventanything,andyetyouwanttobeapoetbyeaster."

"everythinghasbeenwrittendown,"saidhe."ourtimeisnottheoldtime."

"no,"saidthewoman."intheoldtimewisewomenwereburnt,andpoetswentaboutwithemptystomachs,andverymuchoutatpresenttimeisgood,itisthebestoftimes;butyouhavenottherightwayoflookingatit.yourearisnotsharpenedtohear,andifancyyoudonotsaythelord'sprayerintheevening.thereisplentyheretowritepoemsabout,andtotellof,foranyonewhoknowstheway.youcanreaditinthefruitsoftheearth,youcandrawitfromtheflowingandthestandingwater;butyoumustunderstandhow-youmustunderstandhowtocatchasunbeam.nowjustyoutrymyspectacleson,andputmyear-trumpettoyourear,andthenpraytogod,andleaveoffthinkingofyourself"

thelastwasaverydifficultthingtodo-morethanawisewomanoughttoask.

hereceivedthespectaclesandtheear-trumpet,andwaspostedinthemiddleofthepotato-field.sheputagreatpotatointohishand.soundscamefromwithinit;therecameasongwithwords,thehistoryofthepotato,anevery-daystoryintenparts,aninterestingstory.andtenlineswereenoughtotellitin.

andwhatdidthepotatosing?

shesangofherselfandofherfamily,ofthearrivalofthepotatoineurope,ofthemisrepresentationtowhichshehadbeenexposedbeforeshewasacknowledged,assheisnow,tobeagreatertreasurethanalumpofgold.

"weweredistributed,bytheking'scommand,fromthecouncil-housesthroughthevarioustowns,andproclamationwasmadeofourgreatvalue;butnoonebelievedinit,orevenunderstoodhowtoplantus.onemandugaholeintheearthandthrewinhiswholebushelofpotatoes;anotherputonepotatohereandanotherthereintheground,andexpectedthateachwastocomeupaperfecttree,fromwhichhemightshakedownpotatoes.andtheycertainlygrew,andproducedflowersandgreenwateryfruit,butitallwitheredbodythoughtofwhatwasintheground-theblessing-thepotato.yes,wehaveenduredandsuffered,thatistosay,ourforefathershave;theyandwe,itisallone."

whatastoryitwas!