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Boyhood in Norway-Part7_Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen(1848-1895)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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of teasing provocation and suppressed glee, among the underbrush,



and once he imagined that he saw a gleam of scarlet and gold

vanish in a dense alder copse.



But very little good did that do him, when he could not fix the

vision, talk with it face to face, and extort the fulfilment of



the three regulation wishes.

"I am probably not good enough," thought Nils. "I know I am a



selfish fellow, and cruel, too, some-times, to birds and beasts.

I suppose she won't have anything to do with me, as long as she



isn't satisfied with my behavior."

Then he tried hard to be kind and considerate; smiled at his



little sister when she pulled his hair, patted Sultan, the dog,

instead of kicking him, when he was in his way, and never



complained or sulked when he was sent on errands late at night or

in bad weather.



But, strange to say, though the Nixy's mysteriousmelody still

sounded vaguely through the water's roar, and the Hulder seemed



to titter behind the tree-trunks and vanish in the underbrush, a

real, unmistakable view was never vouchsafed to Nils, and the



three wishes which were to make his fortune he had no chance of

propounding.



He had fully made up his mind what his wishes were to be, for he

was determined not to be taken by surprise. He knew well the



fate of those foolish persons in the fairy tales who offend their

benevolent protectors by bouncing against them head foremost, as



it were, with a greedy cry for wealth.

Nils was not going to be caught that way. He would ask first for



wisdom--that was what all right-minded heroes did--then for good

repute among men, and lastly--and here was the rub--lastly he was



inclined to ask for a five-bladed knife, like the one the

parson's Thorwald had got for a Christmas present.



But he had considerablemisgiving about the expediency of this

last wish. If he had a fair renown and wisdom, might he not be



able to get along without a five-bladed pocket-knife? But no;

there was no help for it. Without that five-bladed pocket-knife



neither wisdom nor fame would satisfy him. It would be the drop

of gall in his cup of joy.



After many days' pondering, it occurred to him, as a way out of

the difficulty, that it would, perhaps, not offend the Hulder if



he asked, not for wealth, but for a moderateprosperity. If he

were blessed with a moderateprosperity, he could, of course, buy



a five-bladed pocket-knife with corkscrew and all other

appurtenances, and still have something left over.



He had a dreadful struggle with this question, for he was well

aware that the proper things to wish were long life and happiness



for his father and mother, or something in that line. But,

though he wished his father and mother well, he could not make up



his mind to forego his own precious chances on their account.

Moreover, he consoled himself with the reflection that if he



attained the goal of his own desires he could easily bestow upon

them, of his bounty, a reasonableprospect of long life and



happiness.

You see Nils was by no means so good yet as he ought to be. He



was clever enough to perceive that he had small chance of seeing

the Hulder, as long as his heart was full of selfishness and envy



and greed.

For, strive as he might, he could not help feeling envious of the



parson's Thorwald, with his elaboratecombination pocket-knife

and his silver watch-chain, which he unfeelingly flaunted in the



face of an admiring community. It was small consolation for Nils

to know that there was no watch but only a key attached to it;



for a silver watch-chain, even without a watch, was a

sufficiently splendid possession to justify a boy in fording it



over his less fortunate comrades.

Nils's father, who was a poor charcoal-burner, could never afford



to make his son such a present, even if he worked until he was as

black as a chimney-sweep. For what little money he earned was



needed at once for food and clothes for the family; and there

were times when they were obliged to mix ground birch-bark with



their flour in order to make it last longer.

It was easy enough for a rich man's son to be good, Nils thought.



It was small credit to him if he was not envious, having never

known want and never gone to bed on birch-bark porridge. But for






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