But then the foresters came. It was the big revolution, and our family tree was split up. The head of the family got a place as the topmast on a magnificent ship that could sail around the world if it wanted to. The other branches went to other places, and we now have the task of bringing light to the common crowd. That’s how we who are so noble came to be here in this kitchen.’

“‘Yes, it’s quite different for me,’ said the iron kettle, standing next to the matches. ‘From the time I came into the world, I have been in hot water many times. I have the responsibility for the most substantial work and am strictly speaking the most important one in the house. My only joy is to sit here clean and tidy after dinner and have pleasant conversations with my companions. But with the exception of the water pail, who gets out in the yard once in a while, we all live a secluded indoor life. Our only news comes from the marketing basket, but he talks very critically of the government and the people. Just the other day an old jug over there fell over in alarm at what he said and smashed to pieces. He’s markedly liberal, I’ll tell you.’ ‘You spout off too much,’ the tinderbox said, and the flint struck the stone so the sparks flew. ‘Let’s have a cheerful, merry evening.’

“‘Yes, let’s talk about who is most distinguished,’ the matches said.

“‘No, I don’t like talking about myself,’ said the clay pot. ‘Let’s have an evening of entertainment. I’ll start. I’ll tell about something that we’ve all experienced. Everyone can follow along then, and it’s so amusing: On the Baltic where the Danish beech trees ...’

“‘That’s a great beginning,’ all the plates said, ‘this’ll definitely be a story we’ll like.’

“‘Yes, I spent my youth there with a quiet family. The furniture was polished, the floors washed, and there were clean curtains every other week.’

“‘How interestingly you tell that!” said the broom. ‘You can hear at once that it’s a woman telling the story—there’s no dirt in it at all.’

“‘Yes, one can tell that,” the water pail said, and it made a little hop of joy so that there was a splash on the floor.

“And the pot continued the story, and the ending was as good as the beginning.

“All the plates were rattling with pleasure, and the broom took some green parsley out of the parsley pot and crowned the pot with a wreath because he knew it would irritate the others, and ‘if I crown her today,’ he thought, ‘she’ll crown me tomorrow.’

“‘Now I’ll dance,’ said the fire tongs and danced. Oh, God bless us, how she could kick a leg in the air! The old seat cover in the corner split from watching it! ‘May I also be crowned?’ asked the fire tongs, and so she was.

“‘These are just riffraff,’ thought the matches.

“Then the tea urn was supposed to sing, but she had a cold, she said. She couldn’t sing unless she was warmed up. Actually it was due to conceit because she didn’t want to sing except for the master and mistress in the dining room.

“On the windowsill sat an old quill pen that the maid used for writing. There was nothing remarkable about him, except that he had been dipped too deeply in the inkwell, but he was proud of that. ‘If the tea urn doesn’t want to sing,’ he said, ‘then she doesn’t have to. There is a nightingale hanging outside in a cage. It can sing. Granted it hasn’t had lessons, but we won’t criticize it this evening.’

“‘I find it highly inappropriate,’ said the tea kettle, who usually sang in the kitchen and was a half sister of the tea urn, ‘that a foreign bird like that should sing. Is that patriotic? I’ll let the marketing basket judge!’

“‘I’m just so annoyed,’ the marketing basket said. ‘I’m so thoroughly annoyed, you can’t imagine! Is this an appropriate way to spend the evening? Wouldn’t it be better to rearrange things and set the house in order? Then everyone would be in his correct place, and I would control the whole shebang. That would be something else!’

“‘Yes, let’s cause a riot!’ they all said.