CHILDRENS PRATTLE故事

　　 AT a rich merchant's house there was a children's party,

　　 and the children of rich and great people were there. The

　　 merchant was a learned man, for his father had sent him to

　　 college, and he had passed his examination. His father had

　　 been at first only a cattle dealer, but always honest and

　　 industrious, so that he had made money, and his son, the

　　 merchant, had managed to increase his store. Clever as he was,

　　 he had also a heart; but there was less said of his heart than

　　 of his money. All descriptions of people visited at the

　　 merchant's house, well born, as well as intellectual, and some

　　 who possessed neither of these recommendations.

　　 Now it was a children's party, and there was children's

　　 prattle, which always is spoken freely from the heart. Among

　　 them was a beautiful little girl, who was terribly proud; but

　　 this had been taught her by the servants, and not by her

　　 parents, who were far too sensible people.

　　 Her father was groom of the Chambers, which is a high

　　 office at court, and she knew it. "I am a child of the court,"

　　 she said; now she might just as well have been a child of the

　　 cellar, for no one can help his birth; and then she told the

　　 other children that she was well-born, and said that no one

　　 who was not well-born could rise in the world. It was no use

　　 to read and be industrious, for if a person was not well-born,

　　 he could never achieve anything. "And those whose names end

　　 with 'sen,'" said she, "can never be anything at all. We must

　　 put our arms akimbo, and make the elbow quite pointed, so as

　　 to keep these 'sen' people at a great distance." And then she

　　 stuck out her pretty little arms, and made the elbows quite

　　 pointed, to show how it was to be done; and her little arms

　　 were very pretty, for she was a sweet-looking child.

　　 But the little daughter of the merchant became very angry

　　 at this speech, for her father's name was Petersen, and she

　　 knew that the name ended in "sen," and therefore she said as

　　 proudly as she could, "But my papa can buy a hundred dollars'

　　 worth of bonbons, and give them away to children. Can your

　　 papa do that?"

　　 "Yes; and my papa," said the little daughter of the editor

　　 of a paper, "my papa can put your papa and everybody's papa

　　 into the newspaper. All sorts of people are afraid of him, my

　　 mamma says, for he can do as he likes with the paper." And the

　　 little maiden looked exceedingly proud, as if she had been a

　　 real princess, who may be expected to look proud.

　　 But outside the door, which stood ajar, was a poor boy,

　　 peeping through the crack of the door. He was of such a lowly

　　 station that he had not been allowed even to enter the room.

　　 He had been turning the spit for the cook, and she had given

　　 him permission to stand behind the door and peep in at the

　　 well-dressed children, who were having such a merry time

　　 within; and for him that was a great deal. "Oh, if I could be

　　 one of them," thought he, and then he heard what was said

　　 about names, which was quite enough to make him more unhappy.

　　 His parents at home had not even a penny to spare to buy a

　　 newspaper, much less could they write in one; and worse than

　　 all, his father's name, and of course his own, ended in "sen,"

　　 and therefore he could never turn out well, which was a very

　　 sad thought. But after all, he had been born into the world,

　　 and the station of life had been chosen for him, therefore he

　　 must be content.

　　 And this is what happened on that evening.

　　 Many years passed, and most of the children became

　　 grown-up persons.

　　 There stood a splendid house in the town, filled with all

　　 kinds of beautiful and valuable objects. Everybody wished to

　　 see it

　　, and people even came in from the country round to be

　　 permitted to view the treasures it contained.

　　 Which of the children whose prattle we have described,

　　 could call this house his own? One would suppose it very easy

　　 to guess. No, no; it is not so very easy. The house belonged

　　 to the poor little boy who had stood on that night behind the

　　 door. He had really become something great, although his name

　　 ended in "sen,"- for it was Thorwaldsen.

　　 And the three other children- the children of good birth,

　　 of money, and of intellectual pride,- well, they were

　　 respected and honored in the world, for they had been well

　　 provided for by birth and position, and they had no cause to

　　 reproach themselves with what they had thought and spoken on

　　 that evening long ago, for, after all, it was mere "children's

　　 prattle."

　　 THE END