Passion had to be ethereal rather than sensual; and it was so easy and desirable, considering the audience of the time, to change sentiment into sentimentality. I shall not judge these early translators too harshly; for I, too, have been tempted to cut a little here and there to please my audience.

As far as I have been able, I have been faithful to the original text, even when I knew that certain ideas might offend people of my own times, or might—which is far worse—appear ridiculous in their eyes. I have tried to be loyal to only one person, Hans Christian Andersen; and I hope most fervently that I have succeeded.

E.C.H.

My gift to the world

—Hans Christian Andersen

 

1

The Tinderbox

A soldier came marching down the road: Left … right! Left … right! He had a pack on his back and a sword at his side. He had been in the war and he was on his way home. Along the road he met a witch. She was a disgusting sight, with a lower lip that hung all the way down to her chest.

“Good evening, young soldier,” she said. “What a handsome sword you have and what a big knapsack. I can see that you are a real soldier! I shall give you all the money that you want.”

“Thank you, old witch,” he said.

“Do you see that big tree?” asked the witch, and pointed to the one they were standing next to. “The trunk is hollow. You climb up to the top of the tree, crawl into the hole, and slide deep down inside it. I’ll tie a rope around your waist, so I can pull you up again when you call me.”

“What am I supposed to do down in the tree?” asked the soldier.

“Get money!” answered the witch and laughed. “Now listen to me. When you get down to the very bottom, you’ll be in a great passageway where you’ll be able to see because there are over a hundred lamps burning. You’ll find three doors; and you can open them all because the keys are in the locks. Go into the first one; and there on a chest, in the middle of the room, you’ll see a dog with eyes as big as teacups. Don’t let that worry you. You will have my blue checkered apron; just spread it out on the floor, put the dog down on top of it, and it won’t do you any harm. Open the chest and take as many coins as you wish, they are all copper. If it’s silver you’re after, then go into the next room. There you’ll find a dog with eyes as big as millstones; but don’t let that worry you, put him on the apron and take the money. If you’d rather have gold, you can have that too; it’s in the third room. Wait till you see that dog, he’s got eyes as big as the Round Tower in Copenhagen; but don’t let that worry you. Put him down on my apron and he won’t hurt you; then you can take as much gold as you wish.”

“That doesn’t sound bad!” said the soldier. “But what am I to do for you, old witch? I can’t help thinking that you must want something too.”

“No,” replied the witch. “I don’t want one single coin. Just bring me the old tinderbox that my grandmother forgot the last time she was down there.”

“I’m ready, tie the rope around my waist!” ordered the soldier.

“There you are, and here is my blue checkered apron,” said the witch.

The soldier climbed the tree, let himself fall into the hole, and found that he was in the passageway, where more than a hundred lights burned.

He opened the first door. Oh! There sat the dog with eyes as big as teacups glaring at him.

“You are a handsome fellow!” he exclaimed as he put the dog down on the witch’s apron. He filled his pockets with copper coins, closed the chest, and put the dog back on top of it.

He went into the second room. Aha! There sat the dog with eyes as big as millstones. “Don’t keep looking at me like that,” said the soldier good-naturedly.