THE OLD HOUSEing-bottom: 150.23%;">In the street, up there, was an old, a very old house--it was almost three hundred years old, for that might be known by reading the great beam on which the date of the year was carved: together with tulips and hop-binds there were whole verses spelled as in former times, and over every window was a distorted face cut out in the beam. The one story stood forward a great way over the other; and directly under the eaves was a leaden spout with a dragon's head; the rain-water should have run out of the mouth, but it ran out of the belly, for there was a hole in the spout.All the other houses in the street were so new and so neat, with large window panes and smooth walls, one could easily see that they would have nothing to do with the old house: they certainly thought, "How long is that old decayed thing to stand here as a spectacle in the street? And then the projecting windows stand so far out, that no one can see from our windows what happens in that direction! The steps are as broad as those of a palace, and as high as to a church tower. The iron railings look just like the door to an old family vault, and then they have brass tops--that's so stupid!"On the other side of the street were also new and neat houses, and they thought just as the others did; but at the window opposite the old house there sat a little boy with fresh rosy cheeks and bright beaming eyes: he certainly liked the old house best, and that both in sunshine and moonshine. And when he looked across at the wall where the mortar had fallen out, he could sit and find out there the strangest figures imaginable; exactly as the street had appeared before, with steps, projecting windows, and pointed gables; he could see soldiers with halberds, and spouts where the water ran, like dragons and serpents. That was a house to look at; and there lived an old man, who wore plush breeches; and he had a coat with large brass buttons, and a wig that one could see was a real wig. Every morning there came an old fellow to him who put his rooms in order, and went on errands; otherwise, the old man in the plush breeches was quite alone in the old house. Now and then he came to the window and looked out, and the little boy nodded to him, and the old man nodded again, and so they became acquaintances, and then they were friends, although they had never spoken to each other--but that made no difference. The little boy heard his parents say, "The old man opposite is very well off, but he is so very, very lonely!"The Sunday following, the little boy took something, and wrapped it up in a piece of paper, went downstairs, and stood in the doorway; and when the man who went on errands came past, he said to him--"I say, master! will you give this to the old man over the way from me? I have two pewter soldiers--this is one of them, and he shall have it, for I know he is so very, very lonely."And the old errand man looked quite pleased, nodded, and took the pewter soldier over to the old house. Afterwards there came a message; it was to ask if the little boy himself had not a wish to come over and pay a visit; and so he got permission of his parents, and then went over to the old house.And the brass balls on the iron railings shone much brighter than ever; one would have thought they were polished on account of the visit; and it was as if the carved-out trumpeters--for there were trumpeters, who stood in tulips, carved out on the door--blew with all their might, their cheeks appeared so much rounder than before. Yes, they blew--"Trateratra! The little boy comes! Trateratra!"--and then the door opened.The whole passage was hung with portraits of knights in armor, and ladies in silken gowns; and the armor rattled, and the silken gowns rustled! And then there was a flight of stairs which went a good way upwards, and a little way downwards, and then one came on a balcony which was in a very dilapidated state, sure enough, with large holes and long crevices, but grass grew there and leaves out of them altogether, for the whole balcony outside, the yard, and the walls, were overgrown with so much green stuff, that it looked like a garden; only a balcony. Here stood old flower-pots with faces and asses' ears, and the flowers grew just as they liked. One of the pots was quite overrun on all sides with pinks, that is to say, with the green part; shoot stood by shoot, and it said quite distinctly, "The air has cherished me, the sun has kissed me, and promised me a little flower on Sunday! a little flower on Sunday!"And then they entered a chamber where the walls were covered with hog's leather, and printed with gold flowers. "The gilding decays, But hog's leather stays!" said the walls.And there stood easy-chairs, with such high backs, and so carved out, and with arms on both sides. "Sit down! sit down!" said they. "Ugh! how I creak; now I shall certainly get the gout, like the old clothespress, ugh!"And then the little boy came into the room where the projecting windows were, and where the old man sat."I thank you for the pewter soldier, my little friend!" said the old man. "And I thank you because you come over to me.""Thankee! thankee!" or "cranky! cranky!" sounded from all the furniture; there was so much of it, that each article stood in the other's way, to get a look at the little boy.In the middle of the wall hung a picture representing a beautiful lady, so young, so glad, but dressed quite as in former times, with clothes that stood quite stiff, and with powder in her hair; she neither said "thankee, thankee!" nor "cranky, cranky!" but looked with her mild eyes at the little boy, who directly asked the old man, "Where did you get her?""Yonder, at the broker's," said the old man, "where there are so many pictures hanging. No one knows or cares about them, for they are all of them buried; but I knew her in by-gone days, and now she has been dead and gone these fifty years!"Under the picture, in a glazed frame, there hung a bouquet of withered flowers; they were almost fifty years old; they looked so very old!The pendulum of the great clock went to and fro, and the hands turned, and everything in the room became still older; but they did not observe it."They say at home," said the little boy, "that you are so very, very lonely!""Oh!" said he. "The old thoughts, with what they may bring with them, come and visit me, and now you also come! I am very well off!"Then he took a book with pictures in it down from the shelf; there were whole long processions and pageants, with the strangest characters, which one never sees now-a-days; soldiers like the knave of clubs, and citizens with waving flags: the tailors had theirs, with a pair of shears held by two lions--and the shoemakers theirs, without boots, but with an eagle that had two heads, for the shoemakers must have everything so that they can say, it is a pair! Yes, that was a picture book!The old man now went into the other room to fetch preserves, apples, and nuts--yes, it was delightful over there in the old house."I cannot bear it any longer!" said the pewter soldier, who sat on the drawers. "It is so lonely and melancholy here! But when one has been in a family circle one cannot accustom oneself to this life! I cannot bear it any longer! The whole day is so long, and the evenings are still longer! Here it is not at all as it is over the way at your home, where your father and mother spoke so pleasantly, and where you and all your sweet children made such a delightful noise. Nay, how lonely the old man is--do you think that he gets kisses? Do you think he gets mild eyes, or a Christmas tree? He will get nothing but a grave! I can bear it no longer!""You must not let it grieve you so much," said the little boy. "I find it so very delightful here, and then all the old thoughts, with what they may bring with them, they come and visit here.""Yes, it's all very well, but I see nothing of them, and I don't know them!" said the pewter soldier. "I cannot bear it!""But you must!" said the little boy.Then in came the old man with the most pleased and happy face, the most delicious preserves, apples, and nuts, and so the little boy thought no more about the pewter soldier.The little boy returned home happy and pleased, and weeks and days passed away, and nods were made to the old house, and from the old house, and then the little boy went over there again.The carved trumpeters blew, "Trateratra! There is the little boy! Trateratra!" and the swords and armor on the knights' portraits rattled, and the silk gowns rustled; the hog's leather spoke, and the old chairs had the gout in their legs and rheumatism in their backs: Ugh! it was exactly like the first time, for over there one day and hour was just like another."I cannot bear it!" said the pewter soldier. "I have shed pewter tears! It is too melancholy! Rather let me go to the wars and lose arms and legs! It would at least be a change. I cannot bear it longer! Now, I know what it is to have a visit from one's old thoughts, with what they may bring with them! I have had a visit from mine, and you may be sure it is no pleasant thing in the end; I was at last about to jump down from the drawers."I saw you all over there at home so distinctly, as if you really were here; it was again that Sunday morning; all you children stood before the table and sung your Psalms, as you do every morning. You stood devoutly with folded hands; and father and mother were just as pious; and then the door was opened, and little sister Mary, who is not two years old yet, and who always dances when she hears music or singing, of whatever kind it may be, was put into the room--though she ought not to have been there--and then she began to dance, but could not keep time, because the tones were so long; and then she stood, first on the one leg, and bent her head forwards, and then on the other leg, and bent her head forwards--but all would not do. You stood very seriously all together, although it was difficult enough; but I laughed to myself, and then I fell off the table, and got a bump, which I have still--for it was not right of me to laugh. But the whole now passes before me again in thought, and everything that I have lived to see; and these are the old thoughts, with what they may bring with them."Tell me if you still sing on Sundays? Tell me something about little Mary! And how my comrade, the other pewter soldier, lives! Yes, he is happy enough, that's sure! I cannot bear it any longer!""You are given away as a present!" said the little boy. "You must remain. Can you not understand that?"The old man now came with a drawer, in which there was much to be seen, both "tin boxes" and "balsam boxes," old cards, so large and so gilded, such as one never sees them now. And several drawers were opened, and the piano was opened; it had landscapes on the inside of the lid, and it was so hoarse when the old man played on it! and then he hummed a song."Yes, she could sing that!" said he, and nodded to the portrait, which he had bought at the broker's, and the old man's eyes shone so bright!"I will go to the wars! I will go to the wars!" shouted the pewter soldier as loud as he could, and threw himself off the drawers right down on the floor. What became of him? The old man sought, and the little boy sought; he was away, and he stayed away."I shall find him!" said the old man; but he never found him. The floor was too open--the pewter soldier had fallen through a crevice, and there he lay as in an open tomb.That day passed, and the little boy went home, and that week passed, and several weeks too. The windows were quite frozen, the little boy was obliged to sit and breathe on them to get a peep-hole over to the old house, and there the snow had been blown into all the carved work and inscriptions; it lay quite up over the steps, just as if there was no one at home--nor was there any one at home--the old man was dead!In the evening there was a hearse seen before the door, and he was borne into it in his coffin: he was now to go out into the country, to lie in his grave. He was driven out there, but no one followed; all his friends were dead, and the little boy kissed his hand to the coffin as it was driven away.Some days afterwards there was an auction at the old house, and the little boy saw from his window how they carried the old knights and the old ladies away, the flower-pots with the long ears, the old chairs, and the old clothes-presses. Something came here, and something came there; the portrait of her who had been found at the broker's came to the broker's again; and there it hung, for no one knew her more--no one cared about the old picture.In the spring they pulled the house down, for, as people said, it was a ruin. One could see from the street right into the room with the hog's-leather hanging, which was slashed and torn; and the green grass and leaves about the balcony hung quite wild about the falling beams. And then it was put to rights."That was a relief," said the neighboring houses.A fine house was built there, with large windows, and smooth white walls; but before it, where the old house had in fact stood, was a little garden laid out, and a wild grapevine ran up the wall of the neighboring house. Before the garden there was a large iron railing with an iron door, it looked quite splendid, and people stood still and peeped in, and the sparrows hung by scores in the vine, and chattered away at each other as well as they could, but it was not about the old house, for they could not remember it, so many years had passed--so many that the little boy had grown up to a whole man, yes, a clever man, and a pleasure to his parents; and he had just been married, and, together with his little wife, had come to live in the house here, where the garden was; and he stood by her there whilst she planted a field-flower that she found so pretty; she planted it with her little hand, and pressed the earth around it with her fingers. Oh! what was that? She had stuck herself. There sat something pointed, straight out of the soft mould.It was--yes, guess! It was the pewter soldier, he that was lost up at the old man's, and had tumbled and turned about amongst the timber and the rubbish, and had at last laid for many years in the ground.The young wife wiped the dirt off the soldier, first with a green leaf, and then with her fine handkerchief--it had such a delightful smell, that it was to the pewter soldier just as if he had awaked from a trance."Let me see him," said the young man. He laughed, and then shook his head. "Nay, it cannot be he; but he reminds me of a story about a pewter soldier which I had when I was a little boy!" And then he told his wife about the old house, and the old man, and about the pewter soldier that he sent over to him because he was so very, very lonely; and he told it as correctly as it had really been, so that the tears came into the eyes of his young wife, on account of the old house and the old man."It may possibly be, however, that it is the same pewter soldier!" said she. "I will take care of it, and remember all that you have told me; but you must show me the old man's grave!""But I do not know it," said he, "and no one knows it! All his friends were dead, no one took care of it, and I was then a little boy!""How very, very lonely he must have been!" said she."Very, very lonely!" said the pewter soldier. "But it is delightful not to be forgotten!""Delightful!" shouted something close by; but no one, except the pewter soldier, saw that it was a piece of the hog's-leather hangings; it had lost all its gilding, it looked like a piece of wet clay, but it had an opinion, and it gave it: "The gilding decays, But hog's leather stays!"This the pewter soldier did not believe.老房子 街上有一幢很老很老的房子，它幾乎有３００年的歷史，這一點，人們在它的大梁上就 可以看得出來；那上面刻着鬱金香和牽藤的啤酒花花紋——在這中間刻着的是它興建的年 月。在那上面人們還可以看到整首用古老的字體刻出來的詩篇。在每個窗子上的桁條上還刻 着做出譏笑樣子的臉譜。第二層樓比第一層樓向外突出很多；屋檐下有一個刻着龍頭的鉛水 筧。雨水本來應該是從龍的嘴裏流出來的，但它卻從它的肚皮中冒出來了，因爲水筧有一個 洞。 街上所有的別的房子都是很新、很整齊的；它們的牆很光，窗玻璃很寬，人們可以看得 出，它們不願意跟這座老房子有什麼來往。它們無疑地在想：“那個老垃圾堆作爲街上的一 個笑柄還能站得住多久呢？它的吊窗凸出牆外太遠，誰也不能從我們的窗子這邊看到那邊所 發生的事情。它的樓梯寬得像宮殿裏的樓梯，高得像是要通到一個教堂的塔裏面去。它的鐵 欄杆像一個家庭墓窖的門——上面還裝置着黃銅小球。這真可笑！” 它的對面也是整齊的新房子。它們也有同樣的看法。不過這兒有一個孩子坐在窗子裏 面。他有一副紅潤的面孔和一對閃耀的眼睛。他特別喜歡這幢老房子，不論在太陽光裏或在 月光裏都是這樣。他看到那些泥灰全都脫落了的牆壁，就坐着幻想出許多奇怪的圖景來—— 這條街、那些樓梯、吊窗和尖尖的山形牆，在古時會像一個什麼樣子呢？他可以看到拿着戟 的兵士，以及形狀像龍和鮫的水筧。 這的確是一幢值得一看的房子！那裏面住着一個老人。他穿着一條天鵝絨的馬褲，一件 有大黃銅釦子的上衣；他還戴着一副假髮①——人們一眼就可以看出這是真正的假髮。每天 早晨有一個老僕人來爲他打掃房間和跑腿。除此以外，這座老房子裏就只孤獨地住着這位穿 天鵝絨馬褲的老人了。他偶爾來到窗子跟前，朝外面望一眼。這時這個小孩就對他點點頭， 作爲回答。他們就這樣相互認識了，而且成了朋友，雖然他們從來沒有講過一句話。不過事 實上也沒有這個必要。小孩曾經聽到他的父母說過：“對面的那個老人很富有，不過他是非 常孤獨的！” ①古時歐洲的紳士和富有的人常常戴着假髮，以掩住禿頂，同時也藉此顯得尊嚴一些。 在下一個星期天，這孩子用一張紙包了一點東西，走到門口。當那個爲這老人跑腿的僕 人走過時，他就對他說：“請聽着！你能不能把這東西帶給對面的那個老人呢？我有兩個錫 兵①。這是其中的一個；我要送給他，因爲我知道他是非常孤獨的。” ①錫兵，這裏是指用鍍錫鐵皮做成的玩具兵。 老僕人表示出高興的樣子。他點了點頭，於是就把錫兵帶到老房子裏去了。不久他就來 問小孩，願意不願意親自去拜訪一次。他的爸爸媽媽准許他去。所以他就去拜訪那個老房子 了。 臺階欄杆上的那些銅球比平時要光亮得多；人們很可能以爲這是專門爲了他的拜訪而擦 亮的。那些雕刻出來的號手——因爲門上都刻着號手，他們立在鬱金香花裏——都在使勁地 吹喇叭；他們的雙頰比以前要圓得多。是的，他們在吹：“嗒—嗒—啦—啦！小朋友到來 了！嗒—嗒—啦—啦！”於是門便開了。 整個走廊裏掛滿了古老的畫像：穿着鎧甲的騎士和穿着絲綢的女子。鎧甲發出響聲，綢 衣在窸窸窣窣地顫動。接着就是一個樓梯。它高高地伸向上面去，然後就略微彎下一點。這 時他就來到一個陽臺上。它的確快要坍塌了。處處是長長的裂痕和大洞，不過它們裏面卻長 出了許多草和葉子。因爲陽臺、院子和牆都長滿了那麼多的綠色植物，所以它們整個看起來 像一個花園。但這還不過是一個陽臺。 這兒有些古舊的花盆；它們都有一個面孔和驢耳朵。花兒自由自在地隨處亂長。有一個 花盆全被石竹花鋪滿了，這也就是說：長滿了綠葉子，冒出了許多嫩芽——它們在很清楚地 說：“空氣撫愛着我，太陽吻着我，同時答應讓我在下星 期日開出一朵小花——下星期日開出一朵小花啦！” 於是他走進一個房間。這兒的牆上全都糊滿了豬皮；豬皮上印着金花。牆兒說： 鍍金消失得很快，但豬皮永遠不壞！ 沿牆擺着許多高背靠椅；每張椅子都刻着花，而且還有扶手。 “請坐吧！請坐吧！”它們說。“啊，我的身體真要裂開了！ 像那個老碗櫃一樣，我想我一定得了痛風病！我背上得了痛風病，噢！” 不一會兒孩子走進一個客廳，那個吊窗就在這兒，那個老人也在這兒。 “親愛的小朋友，多謝你送給我的錫兵！”老人說，“多謝你來看我！” “謝謝！謝謝！”——也可以說是——“嘎！啪！”這是所有的傢俱講的話。它們的數 目很多，當它們都來看這孩子的時候，它們幾乎擠做一團。 牆中央掛着一個美麗女子的畫像。她的樣子很年輕和快樂，但是卻穿着古時的衣服；她 的頭髮和挺直的衣服都撲滿了粉。她既不說“謝謝”，也不說“啪”；她只是用溫和的眼睛 望着這個小孩子。他當時就問這老人：“您從什麼地方弄到這張像的？” “從對面的那個舊貨商人那裏！”老人說。“那兒掛着許多畫像。誰也不認識他們，也 不願意去管他們，因爲他們早就被埋葬掉了。不過從前我認識這個女子，現在她已經死了， 而且死了半個世紀啦。” 在這幅畫下邊，在玻璃的後面，掛着一個枯萎了的花束。它們無疑也有半個世紀的歷 史，因爲它們的樣子也很古老。那個大鐘的擺搖來搖去；鐘上的針在轉動。這房間裏每件東 西在時時刻刻地變老，但是人們卻不覺得。 小孩子說：“家裏的人說，你一直是非常孤獨的！” “哎，”老人說，“舊時的回憶以及與回憶相聯的事情，都來拜訪，現在你也來拜訪 了！我感到非常快樂！” 於是他從書架上取出一本畫冊：那裏面有許多我們現在見不到的華麗的馬車行列，許多 打扮得像紙牌上的“賈克”的兵士和揮着旗子的市民。裁縫揮着的旗幟上繪着一把由兩隻獅 子擡着的大剪刀；鞋匠揮着的旗子上繪有一隻雙頭鷹——不是靴子，因爲鞋匠必須把一切東 西安排得使人一看就說：“那是一雙。”是的，就是這樣的一本畫冊！ 老人走到另外一個房間裏去拿出一些蜜餞、蘋果和硬殼果來——這個老房子裏的一切東 西真是可愛。 “我再也忍受不了！”立在五斗櫃上的那個錫兵說。“這兒是那麼寂寞，那麼悲哀。一 個慣於過家庭生活的人，在這兒實在住不下去！我再也忍受不了！日子已經夠長了，而晚間 卻是更長！這兒的情形跟他們那兒的情形完全不一樣。你的爸爸和媽媽總是愉快地在一起聊 天，你和別的一些可愛的孩子也發出高興的鬧聲。嗨！這個老人，他是多麼寂寞啊！你以爲 他會得到什麼吻麼？你以爲會有人溫和地看他一眼麼？或者他會有一棵聖誕樹麼？他什麼也 沒有，只有等死！我再也忍受不了！” “你不能老是從悲哀的角度去看事情呀！”小孩子說。“我覺得這兒什麼東西都可愛！ 而且舊時的回憶以及與回憶相聯的事情都到這兒來拜訪！” “是的，但是我看不見它們，也不認識它們！”錫兵說。 “我再也忍受不了！” “你要忍受下去。”小孩子說。 這時老人帶着一副最愉快的面孔和最甜美的蜜餞、蘋果以及硬殼果走來了。小孩子便不 再想起錫兵了。 這個小年輕人，懷着幸福和高興的心情，回到家來。許多日子、許多星期過去了。和對 面那個老房子，又有許多往返不停的點頭。最後小孩子又走過去拜訪了。 那些雕刻的號手又吹起：“嗒—啦—啦，嗒—啦—啦！小朋友又來了！嗒—啦—啦！” 接着那些騎士身上的劍和鎧甲又響起來了，那些綢衣服又沙沙地動起來了。那些豬皮又講起 話來了，那些老椅子的背上又有痛風病了。噢！這跟頭一次來的時候完全一樣，因爲在這 兒，這一天，這一點鐘完全跟另一天，另一點鐘是一樣。 “我再也忍受不了！”錫兵說。“我已經哭出了錫眼淚！這兒是太悲哀了！我寧願上戰 場，犧牲掉我的手和腳——這種生活總算還有點變化。我再也忍受不了！現在我才懂得，回 憶以及與回憶相聯的事情來拜訪是一種什麼味道！我的回憶也來拜訪了。請相信我，結果並 不是太愉快。我幾乎要從五斗櫃上跳下來了。你們在對面房子裏面的情形，我看得清清楚 楚，好像你們就在這兒一樣。又是一個禮拜天的早晨——你們都很熟悉的一天！你們孩子們 圍着桌子站着，唱你們每天早晨唱的聖詩。你們把手合在一起，莊嚴地站着；爸爸和媽媽也 是同樣地莊嚴。於是門開了，小妹妹瑪利亞被領進來了——她還不到兩歲；無論什麼時候， 只要她聽到音樂或歌聲，而且不管什麼音樂或歌聲，她就跳起舞來。她還不大會跳，但是她 卻要馬上跳起來，雖然她跳得不合拍子，因爲拍子是太長了。她先用一隻腿站着，把頭向前 彎，然後又用另一隻腿站着，又把頭向前彎，可是這次卻彎得不好。你們都站着不做一聲， 雖然這是很困難的。但是我在心裏卻笑起來了，因此我就從桌上滾下來了，而且還跌出一個 包來——這個包現在還在——因爲我笑是不對的。但是這一切，以及我所經歷過的許多事 情，現在又來到我的心裏——這一定就是回憶以及與回憶相聯的事情了。請告訴我，你們仍 然在禮拜天唱歌嗎？請告訴我一點關於小瑪利亞的消息好嗎？我的老朋友——那另一個錫兵 ——現在怎樣了？是的，他一定是很快樂的！——我卻是再也忍受不了！” “你已經被送給別人了！”小孩子說。“你應該安心下來。這一點你還看不出來嗎？” 這時那個老人拿着一個抽屜走進來。抽屜裏有許多東西可看：粉盒、香膏盒、舊撲克牌 ——它們都很大，還鍍着金，現在我們是看不到這樣的東西的。他還抽開了許多抽屜，拉開 了一架鋼琴，鋼琴蓋上繪着風景畫。當這老人彈着的時候，鋼琴就發出粗啞的聲音。於是他 就哼出一支歌來。 “是的，她也能唱這支歌！”他說。於是他就對這幅從舊貨商人那兒買來的畫點點頭。 老人的眼睛變得明亮起來了。 “我要到戰場上去！我要到戰場上去！”錫兵儘量提高嗓子大叫；接着他就栽到地上去 了。 是的，他到什麼地方去了呢？老人在找，小孩也在找，但是他不見了，他失蹤了。 “我會找到他的！”老人說。不過他永遠也沒有找到他，因爲地板上有許多洞和裂口。 錫兵滾到一個裂口裏去了。他躺在那裏，好像躺在一個沒有蓋土的墳墓裏一樣。 這一天過去了。小孩子回到家裏。一星期又過去了，接着又有許多星期過去了。窗子上 都結了冰，小孩子得坐下來，在窗玻璃上用嘴哈氣融出一個小視孔來看看那座老房子。雪花 飄進那些刻花和刻字中間去，把整個臺階都蓋住了，好像這座老房子裏沒有住着什麼人似 的。的確，這裏現在沒有人，因爲那個老人已經死了！ 黃昏的時候，門外停着一輛馬車。人們把他放進棺材，擡上馬車。他不久就要給埋進他 鄉下的墳墓裏，他現在就要被運到那兒去，可是沒有人來送葬，因爲他所有的朋友都已經死 了。當棺材被運走的時候，小孩子在後面用手對他飛吻。 幾天以後，這座老房子裏舉行一次拍賣。小孩子從他的窗子裏看到那些古老的騎士和女 子、那些有長耳朵的花盆、那些古舊的椅子和碗櫃，統統都被人搬走了。有的搬到這兒去， 有的搬到那兒去。她的畫像——在那個舊貨商店裏找來的——仍然回到那個舊貨商店裏去 了，而且一直掛在那裏，因爲誰也不認識她，誰也不願意要一張老畫。 到了春天，這座房子就被拆掉了，因爲人們說它是一堆爛垃圾。人們可以從街上一眼就 看到牆上貼着豬皮的那個房間。這些皮已經被拉下來了，並且被撕碎了。陽臺上那些綠色植 物凌亂地在倒下的屋樑間懸着。現在人們要把這塊地方掃清。 “這纔好啦！”周圍的房子說。 一幢漂亮的新房子建立起來了；它有寬大的窗子和平整的白牆。不過那座老房子原來所 在的地方恰恰成了一個小花園。鄰近的牆上長滿了野生的葡萄藤。花園前面有一道鐵欄杆和 一個鐵門。它們的樣子很莊嚴。行人在它們面前停下步子，朝裏面望。 麻雀成羣地棲在葡萄藤上，嘰嘰喳喳地互相叫着。不過它們不是談着關於那幢老房子的 事情，因爲它們記不清那些事。許多年已經過去了，那個小孩子已經長大成人，長成了一個 像他父母所期望的有能力的人。他剛結婚不久。他要同他的妻子搬進這幢有小花園的房子裏 來。當她正在栽一棵她認爲很美麗的野花的時候，他站在她的身邊。她用小巧的手栽着花， 用指頭在花周圍緊按上些泥土。 “噢！這是什麼？”她覺得有件什麼東西刺着了她。 有一件尖東西在柔軟的泥土裏冒出來了。想想看吧！這就是那個錫兵——在那個老人房 間裏跑掉的錫兵。他曾經在爛木頭和垃圾裏混了很久，最後又在土裏睡了許多年。 年輕的妻子先用一片綠葉子、然後又用她美麗的、噴香的手帕把錫兵擦乾淨。錫兵好像 是從昏睡中恢復了知覺。 “讓我瞧瞧他吧！”年輕人說。於是他笑起來，搖着頭。 “啊！這不可能就是他，但是他使我記起了我小時候跟一個錫兵的一段故事！” 於是他就對他的妻子講了關於那座老房子、那個老人和錫兵的故事。他把錫兵送給了老 人，因爲他是那麼孤獨。他講得那麼仔細，好像是真事一樣。年輕的妻子不禁爲那座老房子 和那個老人流出淚來。 “這也許就是那個錫兵！”她說。“讓我把他保存起來，以便記住你所告訴我的這些事 情。但是你得把那個老人的墳指給我看！” “我不知道它在什麼地方呀，”他說，“誰也不知道它！他所有的朋友都死了；沒有誰 去照料它，而我自己那時還不過是一個小孩了！” “那麼他一定是一個非常孤獨的人了！”她說。 “是的，可怕地孤獨！”錫兵說，“不過他居然沒有被人忘記掉，倒也真使人高興！” “高興！”旁邊一個聲音喊。但是除了錫兵以外，誰也看不出這就是過去貼在牆上的一 塊豬皮。它上面的鍍金已經全沒有了。它的樣子很像潮溼的泥土，但它還是有它的意見。它 說： 鍍金消失得很快， 但豬皮永遠不壞！ 不過錫兵不相信這套理論。 （１８４８年） 這個故事收集在《新的童話》第二卷第二輯裏，主人公是一位基本上已經是快要走完人 生道路的老人和一個剛剛進入人生的小男孩。兩人結成了在一般情況下不可能有的友誼。這 是因爲：正如小男孩所說的，“我覺得這兒（老房子）什麼東西都可愛，而且舊時的回憶以 及與回憶相聯的事情都到這兒來拜訪！”人生就是這樣：平淡無奇的日子中也有使人（甚至 對剛進入人世的孩子）留戀和喜愛的東西。寫這篇故事的誘因，安徒生在他的手記中說： “……１８４７年詩人莫生（德國人，ＪｕｌｉｕｓＭｏｓｅｎ，１８０３—１８６２）的 小兒子在我離開奧爾登堡（Ｏｌｄｅｎｂｏｒｇ，德國西北部的一個州）時，送給了我他的 一個錫兵，爲的是使我不要感到太可怕的寂寞。作曲家哈特曼（丹麥人，ＪｏｈａｎＰｅｔ ｅｒＨａｒｔｍａｎｎ，１８０５—１９００）的兩歲的女兒瑪莉日婭，只要一聽到音樂， 就想跳舞。當她的哥哥和姐姐們來到房間裏唱聖詩的時候，她就要開始跳舞，但是她的音樂 感不讓她作不合拍的動作，她只好站着，先用這隻腳，然後用另一隻，直到她進入聖詩的完 滿節奏後開始不知不覺地跳起來。
