Chapter 17 Little Ghost and Little Merchant
Once upon a time there was a veritable student: he lived in a garret and had nothing; at the same time there was a veritable small merchant who lived on the first floor and owned the whole house.A little devil lives with this little merchant, because here, every Christmas Eve, he gets a plate of porridge with a hunk of butter in it!The little merchant was able to supply this, so the imp lived in his shop, and the event was instructive.
One night the students came in through the back door to buy themselves candles and cottage cheese.He had no one to run errands for him, so he came to buy it himself.He bought what he needed and paid for it.The little merchant and his wife nodded to him and wished him good night.This lady can do more than just nod - she has a gift for talking too!
The students also nodded.Then suddenly he stood still and began to read from the paper on which the cheese was wrapped.This is a page torn from an old book.
This page should not have been torn up, because it is a very old collection of poems.
"There are so many books like this!" said the little merchant. "I got it from an old woman for a few coffee beans. You only have to give me three coppers, and you can take the rest."
"Thank you," said the student, "give me the book, please, and take away the cheese; I will have nothing but bread and butter. It is a crime to tear up a whole book. You are a capable A practical man, but as far as poetry is concerned, you don't know any more than that pot."
The remark was very rude, especially when the basin was used as a metaphor; but the merchant laughed, and the student laughed too, for the remark was only in jest.But the kid was angry: how dare anyone say such things to a merchant and landlord who sells the best butter.
As night fell, the shops were closed; and everyone, except the students, went to bed.Then the imp came in and took the little merchant's wife's tongue, for she did not need it in her sleep.As long as he put this tongue on any object in the house, the object can make a sound, talk, and, like the wife, express its thoughts and feelings.But only one thing can use the tongue at a time, and that's a good thing, otherwise they'd cut each other off.
The kid put his tongue in the newspaper tub. "They say you don't know what poetry is," he asked. "Is it true?"
"Of course I understand," said Potzi, "poetry is something that is printed in the newspaper as a filler, and you can cut it out at will. I believe that I have much more poetry in my body than that student; but for a small businessman , I'm just a worthless pot."
So the kid put his tongue on a coffee grinder again.Ouch!The coffee grinder has become a chatterbox!So he put his tongue on a butter bucket, and then on a money box—they all had the same opinion as the basin, and the opinion of the majority must be respected.
"Okay, I'm going to tell that student that opinion!"
So the kid quietly walked up the top floor of the student's room from a back staircase.There were candles in the room.The kid peeked in through the keyhole of the door.
He saw the student reading the tattered book he had brought downstairs.
But how bright it was in this room!A bright beam of light emerged from the book.It expanded into a trunk and became a big tree.It grew very tall, and its branches stretched out in all directions above the student's head.
Every leaf is very fresh, and every flower is the face of a beautiful woman: some eyes are black and shining, and some are blue and crystal clear.Every fruit is a bright star; besides, there are wonderful songs and music in the room.
Hi!Such a gorgeous sight was never imagined by the kid, let alone seen or heard.He stood there on tiptoe, looking and looking until the light in the room went out.The student blew out the lamp and went to bed.But the goblin stood there still, for the music didn't stop, and the sound was soft and beautiful; it was really a lullaby to the student who lay resting.
"It's really beautiful!" said the kid. "It's beyond my imagination! I'd love to live with the student."
Then he thought about it rationally, and sighed: "This student doesn't have porridge for me!" So he still went downstairs and went back to the little businessman's house.He came back just in time, for the basin had nearly used up the lady's tongue: it had finished all that it contained on one side of its body, and was now about to turn over and try again on the other side.At this moment, the imp came, took the tongue away, and gave it back to his wife.But from that moment on, the whole shop—from the money box to the firewood—had followed suit.They respected it and admired it so much that when the shopkeeper read art and theater criticism articles in the newspaper at night, they all believed that it was Posey's opinion.
But the little ghosts could no longer sit still and listen to their wisdom and learning.No, as soon as there were lights on the attic, it seemed to him that they were anchor lines, trying to pull him up.He had to climb up and put his eyes on the little keyhole to look in.A heroic feeling arose in him, as if we were standing beside a rough, storm-battered sea.He couldn't help crying sadly!He himself didn't know why he was crying, but when he was crying, he felt a sense of happiness: how happy it must be to sit under that tree with the students!But that was impossible—he would be content just to look through the hole.
He stood on the cold stairs; the autumn wind blew in through the round windows of the attic.It's getting very cold.However, it was only when the lights in the attic went out and the music stopped that the little man began to feel cold.Hi!Then he trembled and climbed down the stairs to his warm corner.It's so comfortable and secure there!
The Christmas porridge and a hunk of butter came--indeed, then he realized that the little merchant was his master.
But in the middle of the night the imp was awakened by a terrible knocking on the casement.Someone was yelling outside.The night watchmen were blowing their horns, for there was a fire - and the whole street was in flames.Did the fire start in his own house, or in the next room?Where exactly did it burn?Everyone is in terror.
The little merchant's wife was bewildered, and hastily tore off the gold earrings from her ears, and put them in her pocket, thinking that she had saved something at last.The merchant was busy looking for his stocks, and the maid ran to find her black silk cloak—for she had no money to buy another such dress.Everyone wants to rescue the best in themselves.
So does the kid, of course.He ran upstairs in a few steps and ran into the students' rooms.The student was standing poised before an open window, looking out at the flames in the house opposite.The little ghost snatched the strange book that was on the table, stuffed it into his little red riding hood, and at the same time held the hat with both hands.Now the family's best treasure has finally been rescued!So he ran as fast as he could, up to the roof and up the chimney.He sat there, in the light of the fire from the house opposite--his hands clutching the hat that held the treasure.Now he knew the true feelings in his heart, and to whom his heart was really directed.But when the fire was put out, when his head had calmed down—hey... "I've got to split me between two," he said. "For that bowl of porridge, I can't give up that little businessman!"
This is very humane!We all went to the little merchant too—for our porridge.
① The top floor (Qvist) is the floor below the roof.In European buildings, it is generally used to pile up junk.Only poor people or poor students lived in the top floors.
Hi!Such a gorgeous sight was never imagined by the kid, let alone seen or heard.He stood there on tiptoe, looking and looking until the light in the room went out.The student blew out the lamp and went to bed.But the goblin stood there still, for the music didn't stop, and the sound was soft and beautiful; it was really a lullaby to the student who lay resting.
"It's really beautiful!" said the kid. "It's beyond my imagination! I'd love to live with the student."
Then he thought about it rationally, and sighed: "This student doesn't have porridge for me!" So he still went downstairs and went back to the little businessman's house.He came back just in time, for the basin had nearly used up the lady's tongue: it had finished all that it contained on one side of its body, and was now about to turn over and try again on the other side.At this moment, the imp came, took the tongue away, and gave it back to his wife.But from that moment on, the whole shop—from the money box to the firewood—had followed suit.They respected it and admired it so much that when the shopkeeper read art and theater criticism articles in the newspaper at night, they all believed that it was Posey's opinion.
But the little ghosts could no longer sit still and listen to their wisdom and learning.No, as soon as there were lights on the attic, it seemed to him that they were anchor lines, trying to pull him up.He had to climb up and put his eyes on the little keyhole to look in.A heroic feeling arose in him, as if we were standing beside a rough, storm-battered sea.He couldn't help crying sadly!He himself didn't know why he was crying, but when he was crying, he felt a sense of happiness: how happy it must be to sit under that tree with the students!But that was impossible—he would be content just to look through the hole.
He stood on the cold stairs; the autumn wind blew in through the round windows of the attic.It's getting very cold.However, it was only when the lights in the attic went out and the music stopped that the little man began to feel cold.Hi!Then he trembled and climbed down the stairs to his warm corner.It's so comfortable and secure there!
The Christmas porridge and a hunk of butter came--indeed, then he realized that the little merchant was his master.
But in the middle of the night the imp was awakened by a terrible knocking on the casement.Someone was yelling outside.The night watchmen were blowing their horns, for there was a fire - and the whole street was in flames.Did the fire start in his own house, or in the next room?Where exactly did it burn?Everyone is in terror.
The little merchant's wife was bewildered, and hastily tore off the gold earrings from her ears, and put them in her pocket, thinking that she had saved something at last.The merchant was busy looking for his stocks, and the maid ran to find her black silk cloak—for she had no money to buy another such dress.Everyone wants to rescue the best in themselves.
So does the kid, of course.He ran upstairs in a few steps and ran into the students' rooms.The student was standing poised before an open window, looking out at the flames in the house opposite.The little ghost snatched the strange book that was on the table, stuffed it into his little red riding hood, and at the same time held the hat with both hands.Now the family's best treasure has finally been rescued!So he ran as fast as he could, up to the roof and up the chimney.He sat there, in the light of the fire from the house opposite--his hands clutching the hat that held the treasure.Now he knew the true feelings in his heart, and to whom his heart was really directed.But when the fire was put out, when his head had calmed down—hey... "I've got to split me between two," he said. "For that bowl of porridge, I can't give up that little businessman!"
This is very humane!We all went to the little merchant too—for our porridge.
① The top floor (Qvist) is the floor below the roof.In European buildings, it is generally used to pile up junk.Only poor people or poor students lived in the top floors.