評論
打印
“It is a GREat and pleasant thought to know that a shooting star falls upon our graves. On mine certainly none will fall—no sunbeam brings thanks to me， for here there is nothing worthy of thanks. I shall not get the patent lacquer，” said Ole， “for my fate on earth is only grease， after all.”Second Visit
IT was New Year's day， and I went up on the tower. Ole spoke of the toasts that were drunk on the transition from the Old Year into the New—from one grave into the other， as he said. And he told me a story about the glasses， and this story had a very deep meaning. It was this：
“When on the New Year's night the clock strikes twelve， the people at the table rise up with full glasses in their hands， and drain these glasses， and drink success to the New Year. They begin the year with the glass in their hands； that is a good beginning for drunkards. They begin the New Year by going to bed， and that's a good beginning for drones. Sleep is sure to play a GREat part in the New Year， and the glass likewise. Do you know what dwells in the glass？” asked Ole. “I will tell you. There dwell in the glass， first， health， and then pleasure， then the most complete sensual delight； and misfortune and the bitterest woe dwell in the glass also. Now， suppose we count the glasses—of course I count the different degrees in the glasses for different people.
“You see， the first glass， that's the glass of health， and in that the herb of health is found growing. Put it up on the beam in the ceiling， and at the end of the year you may be sitting in the arbor of health.
“If you take the second glass—from this a little bird soars upward， twittering in guileless cheerfulness， so that a man may listen to his song， and perhaps join in 'Fair is life！ no downcast looks！ Take courage， and march onward！'
“Out of the third glass rises a little winged urchin， who cannot certainly be called an angel child， for there is goblin blood in his veins， and he has the spirit of a goblin—not wishing to hurt or harm you， indeed， but very ready to play off tricks upon you. He'll sit at your ear and whisper merry thoughts to you； he'll creep into your heart and warm you， so that you grow very merry， and become a wit， so far as the wits of the others can judge.
“In the fourth glass is neither herb， bird， nor urchin. In that glass is the pause drawn by reason， and one may never go beyond that sign.
“Take the fifth glass， and you will weep at yourself， you will feel such a deep emotion； or it will affect you in a different way. Out of the glass there will spring with a bang Prince Carnival， nine times and extravagantly merry. He'll draw you away with him； you'll forget your dignity， if you have any， and you'll forget more than you should or ought to forget. All is dance， song and sound： the masks will carry you away with them， and the daughters of vanity， clad in silk and satin， will come with loose hair and alluring charms； but tear yourself away if you can！
“the sixth glass！ Yes， in that glass sits a demon， in the form of a little， well dressed， attractive and very fascinating man， who thoroughly understands you， aGREes with you in everything， and becomes quite a second self to you. He has a lantern with him， to give you light as he accompanies you home. There is an old legend about a saint who was allowed to choose one of the seven deadly sins， and who accordingly chose drunkenness， which appeared to him the least， but which led him to commit all the other six. The man's blood is mingled with that of the demon. It is the sixth glass， and with that the germ of all evil shoots up within us； and each one grows up with a strength like that of the grains of mustard-seed， and shoots up into a tree， and spreads over the whole world： and most people have no choice but to go into the oven， to be re-cast in a new form.
“That's the history of the glasses，” said the tower-keeper Ole， “and it can be told with lacquer or only with GREase； but I give it you with both！”Third Visit1
ON this occasion I chose the general “moving-day” for my visit to Ole， for on that day it is anything but aGREeable down in the streets in the town； for they are full of sweepings， shreds， and remnants of all sorts， to say nothing of the cast-off rubbish in which one has to wade about. But this time I happened to see two children playing in this wilderness of sweepings. They were playing at “going to bed，” for the occasion seemed especially favorable for this sport. They crept under the straw， and drew an old bit of ragged curtain over themselves by way of coverlet. “It was splendid！” they said； but it was a little too strong for me， and besides， I was obliged to mount up on my visit to Ole.
