BROWNIE AND THE DAME
YOU know the brownie，butdoyou know thedame，
the gardener's dame？ She had learning， knew verses by heart， could even write them herself with ease； only therhymes，"clinchings"， she called them， caused her a lit－tle trouble． She had the gift of writing， and of talking；shemight verywellhavebeen a pastor， or atleast a pas- tor's wife．"The earth is lovely in its Sunday gown，"saidshe， and this thought she had put intowordsand"clinch－ing" ， and had set it in a poem， so long and beautiful．The student， Mr．Kisserup（thenamehasnothing to do ith the story），wasanephew， and on a visit to the gar－dener；he heardthedame's poem，and it did him good， hesaid—ever so much good．"You have soul， madam，"
said he．
"Stuff and nonsense， said the gardener，"don't be putting such ideas into herhead！ a woman shouldbea body， a decent body， and look afterherpot，sothatthe porridge may not be burned．"
"I will takeawaythat burnt taste with a piece of burning charcoal，" said the dame，"and thenI will take the burnt taste from you with a little kiss． One wouldthink that you only thought of cabbages and potatoes，and yet you love theflowers！"anesoshe kissed him．"The flowers are the soul，" said she．
"Lookafter your pot， saidhe， and went into the garden： that was hispot， and he looked after it． But thestudent sat and talked with the dame．Her beautiful words，"The earth is lovely"， hemade quite a sermonabout，in his ownway．
"The earth is lovely，make it subject unto you！was said， and we became its rulers． Some are so with the mind， some with the body；one is sent into theworld likean exclamation mark， another like a Printer's dash， sothat one may well ask，'What is he doing here？' One be－comes a bishop， another only a poor schoolmaster， but all is wisely ordered． The earth is lovely， and always in itsSunday dress！Thatwasathought-stirring poem，dame, full of feeling and geography．"
"You have soul， Mr． Kisserup，" said the dame，"muchsoul， Iassure you！Onegets clearness in oneself，when one talks with you．"
And so theywent on talking， as beautifully and as well； but out in the kitchen， there was also one who talked， and that was the brownie， the little browniedressed in grey with a red cap． Youknow him！Brownie sat in thekitchen，and was thepot-watcher；he talked， but no oneheard him except thebigblack pussy cat，
"Cream-thief"， as the dame called him．The brownie was so angry with her， because she did not believe in his existence， he knew； she had certainly never seen him， but still she must， with all her learning，know that he did exist， and might have shown him a littleattention． It never occurred to her on Christmas Eve， tosetso much as a spoonful of porridge down forhim；all his ancestors had got that， and had got it from dames who had；absolutely no learning； the porridge had been swim-ming in butter and cream． Itmade the cat's mouth water to hear ofit．
"She calls me an idea!"said thebrownie，"thatis beyond all my ideas．She actually denies me！That Ihave listenedto，andnow Ihave listened again；she sitsand wheezes to that boy-whacker， the student． Isay with the goodman，' Mind your pot！' that she doesn't do；nowIshall make it boil over！" And Brownie puffed at the fire，which blazed and burned．" Hubble－bubble- hish，"——thepot boiled over．"Now Ishall go inand make holes in the goodman'ssocks！ said Brownie，"Iwillunravela big hole in the toe and the heel， so there willbesomethingto darn， unless she must go and make poetry． Dame poet- ess， darnthe goodman's stockings！"
The cat sneezed at that； he had a cold， although healways wore furs．
"Ihave opened the dining－room，door，"said Brown- ie，"there is clotted cream there， as thick as gruel．If you won't lick it， Ishall．"
"IfI shall have the blame and the blows，" said thecat，"let me also lick the cream．"
"First the cream，thenthe licking，"said the brown－ ie．"ButnowIshall go into the student's room，hang his braces on the looking－glass，and put his socks in thewa－ ter-jug； then hewillthinkthatthepunch has been too strong，andthathe is giddy in thehead．Las nightI sat on the wood－stack beside the dog－kennel； Itake a great pleasure in teasing the watch－dog； Ilet my legs hangdownanddangle．Thedogcouldnotreachthem，however high he jumped； that made him angry； he barked andbarked， Idingled and dangled； itwas aracket． The stu－dentwoke up with itand got upthree times to look out；but he did notseeme， althoughhe had spectacles on； healways sleeps withspectacles．"
"Say mew， when the dame is coming，"said the cat．"Iam rather deaf； Iam not well today！"
"You arelicking－sick，" said Brownie，"lick away, lick the sickness away！butdry your whiskers，sothatthe cream may not hang there.NowI will go and listen．"
And Browniestoodbythedoor，andthedoorstood ajar；therewasno one inthe room exceptthedame and the student； they talked about what the student so finelycalled"that whichoneought tosetaboveallpotsand pansin every household； the gifts of the soul！"
"Mr．Kisserup，"said thedame，"now Ishallshow you something in this connection， whichI have never yetshown to any earthly soul， least of all to a man， my littlepoems； some arerather long， however． Ihave calledthem'Clinchingsby a gentlewoman'."
And she took out of the drawer a writing－book with a light－green cover and two blots of ink on it．"There ismuchthatisearnestinthis book，"saidshe．"Ihavethe
strongest feeling for what is sorrowful．Here now is'The sigh in the Night'，'My Evening－Red'， and'WhenI got Klemmensen， my husband． You can pass over that，al- though it has feeling and thought．'The House－wife's Du－ ties' is the best piece！ all verymelancholy， in that lies mystrength． Onlyonepiece is jocular； it contains some lively thoughts， such as onemayalso have， thoughts about，—— you mustnot laugh atme—about being a poetess！ Itis on－ ly known to myself and my drawer，and now also to you， Mr． Kisserup！ Iam veryfondofpoetry， it comes over me， it teases， and rules， and reigns over me． Ihave expressedit in thetitle，'Little Brownie．' You know the old peasant belief in the brownie，who in always playing tricks in the house． Ihave imagined thatI myself was the house， andthatpoetry， thefeeling within me， was the brownie，the spiritwhichrules in me．His power and greatness I have sungin'Thelittle Brownie，but you must promise me with hand and mouth， never to disclose it to my husband orany one． Read it aloud， so thatI can hear if you under－ stand my writing！"
And the student read， and the dame listened， and thelittle brownie listened too；hewas eavesdropping，you know，andhad just come when the title"The little Brown- ie" was read．
" That concerns me，" said he；"what can she have writtenabout me？Oh！ Ishall pinch her， pinch her eggs， pinch her chickens，hound the fat off her fat calf．What a dame！"
And he listened with pursed－up mouth and long ears， but as he heard about Brownie's glory and power，and his lordship over the dame（it was Poetry， you know， that shemeant， but the brownie took it literally） the little fellowsmiledmoreandmore， his eyes sparkled with joy，there came somethingof a superior air into the corners of his mouth， he lifted his heels and stood on his toes， and be－came awholeinch taller than before； hewasdelighted with what was said about the little brownie．
"The dame has soul and great breeding！ Ihave done the woman greatinjustice．Shehas set me inher' Clinch－ ings'， which will be printed and read． Now， the cat willnotget leave todrinkher cream， Iwill dothatmyself！One drinks less than two，that is always a saving， andthatI willintroduce，and respectandhonour the dame．"
"What a human creature he is， the brownie，" saidthe old cat；" only a sweet mew from the dame，a mew about himself， and he at once changes hismind．The dameissly．
But she wasnot sly； it was thebrowniewho was ahuman being．
If you cannot understand thisstory， then ask， butyou must not ask the brownie， nor the dame， either．
小鬼和太太
你认识小鬼，但是你认识太太——园丁的老婆吗？她很有学问，能背诵许多诗篇，还能提笔就写出诗来呢。只有韵脚——她把它叫做“顺口字”——使她感到有点麻烦。她有写作的天才和讲话的天才。她可以当一个牧师，最低限度当一个牧师的太太。
“穿上了星期日服装的大地是美丽的！”她说。于是她把这个意思写成文字和“顺口字”，最后就编成一首又美又长的诗。
专门学校的学生吉塞路普先生——他的名字跟这个故事没有什么关系——是她的外甥；他今天来拜访园丁。他听到这位太太的诗，说这对他很有益，非常有益。
“舅妈，你有才气！”他说。
“胡说八道！”园丁说。“请你不要把这种思想灌进她的脑袋里去吧。一个女人应该是一个实际的人，一个老老实实的人，好好地看着饭锅，免得把稀饭烧出焦味来。”
“我可以用一块木炭把稀饭里的焦味去掉呀！”太太说。
“至少你身上的焦味，我只须用轻轻的一吻就可以去掉。别人以为你的心里只想着白菜和马铃薯，事实上你还喜欢花！”于是她吻了他一下。“花就是才气呀！”她说。
“请你还是看着饭锅吧！”他说。接着他就走进花园里去了，因为花园就是他的饭锅，他得照料它。
学生跟太太坐下来，跟太太讨论问题。他对“大地是美丽的”这个可爱的词句大发了一通议论，因为这是他的习惯。
“大地是美丽的；人们说：征服它吧！于是我们就成了它的统治者。有的人用精神来统治它，有的人用身体来统治它。有的人来到这个世界上像一个惊叹号，有的人来到这个世界上像一个破折号，这使我不禁要问：他来做什么呢？这个人成为主教，那个人成为穷学生，但是一切都是安排得很聪明的，大地是美丽的，而且老是穿着节日的服装！舅妈，这件事本身就是一首充满了感情和地理知识的、发人深省的诗。”
“吉塞路普先生，你有才气！”太太说，“很大的才气！我一点也不说假话。一个人跟你谈过一席话以后，立刻就能完全了解自己。”
他们就这样谈下去，觉得彼此趣味非常相投。不过厨房里也有一个人在谈话，这人就是那个穿灰衣服、戴一顶红帽子的小鬼。你知道他吧！小鬼坐在厨房里，是一个看饭锅的人。他一人在自言自语，但是除了一只大黑猫——太太把他叫做“奶酪贼”——以外，谁也不理他。
小鬼很生她的气，因为他知道她不相信他的存在。她当然没有看见过他，不过她既然这样有学问，就应该知道他是存在的，同时也应该对他略微表示一点关心才对。她从来没有想到过，在圣诞节的晚上应该给他一汤匙稀饭吃。这点儿稀饭，他的祖先总是得到的，而且给的人总是一些没有学问的太太，而且稀饭里还有黄油和奶酪呢。猫儿听到这话时，口涎都流到胡子上去了。
“她说我的存在不过是一个概念！”小鬼说，“这可是超出我的一切概念以外的一个想法。她简直是否定我！我以前听到她说过这样的话，刚才又听到她说了这样的话。她跟那个学生——那个小牛皮大王——坐在一起胡说八道。我对老头子说：‘当心稀饭锅啦！’她却一点也不放在心上。现在我可要让它熬焦了！”
于是小鬼就吹起火来。火马上就燎起来了。“隆——隆——隆！”这是粥在熬焦的声音。
“现在我要在老头子的袜子上打些洞了！”小鬼说。“我要在他的脚后跟和前趾上弄出洞来，好叫她在不写诗的时候有点什么东西补补缝缝。诗太太，请你补补老头子的袜子吧！”
猫儿这时打了一个喷嚏。它伤风了，虽然它老是穿着皮衣服。
“我打开了厨房门，”小鬼说，“因为里面正熬着奶油——比浆糊还要稠的奶油。假如你不想舔几口的话，我可是要舔的！”
“如果将来由我来挨骂和挨打，”猫儿说，“我当然是要舔它几口的！”
“先舔后挨吧！”小鬼说。“不过现在我得到那个学生的房间里去，把他的吊带挂在镜子上，把他的袜子放进水罐里，好叫他相信他喝的混合酒太烈，他的脑袋在发昏。昨天晚上我坐在狗屋旁边的柴堆上，跟看家狗开了一个大玩笑：我把我的腿悬在它头上摆来摆去。不管它跳得怎样高，它总是够不到。这把它惹得火起来了，又叫又号，可是我只摇摆着双腿。闹声可真大啦。学生被吵醒了，起来三次朝外面望，可是他虽然戴上了眼镜，却看不见我。他这个人老是戴着眼镜睡觉。”
“太太进来的时候，请你喵一声吧！”猫儿说。“我的耳朵不大灵，因为我今天身体不舒服。”
“你正在害舔病！”小鬼说。“一舔就好了！把你的病舔掉吧！但是你得把胡子弄干净，不要让奶油留在上面！我现在要去听了。”
小鬼站在门旁边，门是半掩着的。房间里除了太太和学生以外，什么人也没有。他们正在讨论学生高雅地称为“家庭中超乎锅儿罐儿之上的一个问题——才气的问题”。
“吉塞路普先生，”太太说，“现在我要给你一件有关这一类的东西看。这件东西我从来没有给世界上的任何人看过——当然更没有给一个男人看过。这就是我所写的几首小诗——不过有几首也很长。我把它们叫做‘一个淑女的叮当集’！［我这个人非常喜欢古雅的丹麦字。”
“是的，我们应该坚持用古字！”学生说。“我们应该把德文字从我们的语言中清除出去。”
“我就是这样办的！”太太说。“你从来没有听到我用这Kleiner或者Butterdeig这样的字，我总是说 Fedtkager和 Bladdeig。”］于是她从抽屉里取出一个本子；它的封面是淡绿色的，上面还有两摊墨渍。“这集子里有浓厚的真实感情！”她说。“我的感情带有极强烈的感伤成分。这几首是《深夜的叹息》，《我的晚霞》。还有《当我得到克伦门生》——我的丈夫——你可以把这首诗跳过去，虽然里面有思想，也有感情。《主妇的责任》是最好的一首——像其他的一样，都很感伤：这正是我的优点。只有一首是幽默的。它里面有些活泼的思想——一个人有时也不免是这样。这是——请你不要笑我！——这是关于‘做一个女诗人’这个问题的思想。只有我自己和我的抽屉知道这个思想，但现在你，吉塞路普先生，也知道了。我喜欢诗：它迷住我，它跟我开玩笑，它给我忠告，它统治着我。我用《小鬼集》这个书名来说明这种情况。你知道，古时农民有一种迷信，认为屋子里老是有一个小鬼在弄玄虚。我想象我自己就是一个屋子，我身体里面的诗和感情就是小鬼——这个小鬼主宰着我。我在《小鬼集》里就歌唱他的威力。不过请你用手和嘴答应我：你永远不能把这个秘密告诉我的丈夫和任何其他的人。请你念吧，这样我就可以知道你是不是能看清我写的字。”
学生念着，太太听着，小鬼也在听着。你要知道，小鬼是在偷听，而且他到来的时候，恰恰《小鬼集》这个书名正在被念出来。
“这跟我有关！”他说。“她能写些关于我的什么事情呢？我要捏她，我要捏她的鸡蛋，我要捏她的小鸡，我要把她的肥犊身上的膘弄掉。你看我怎样对付这女人吧！”
他努起嘴巴，竖起耳朵，静静地听。不过当他听到小鬼是怎样光荣和有威力、小鬼是怎样统治着太太时（你要知道，她的意思是指诗，但是小鬼只是从字面上理解），他的脸上就渐渐露出笑容，眼睛里射出快乐的光彩。他的嘴角上表现出一种优越感，他抬起脚跟，踮着脚尖站着，比原先足足增长了一寸高。一切关于这个小鬼的描写，使他感到非常高兴。
“太太有才气，也有很高的教养！我真是对她不起！她把我放进她的《叮当集》里，而这集子将会印出来，被人阅读！现在我可不能让猫儿吃她的奶油了，我要留给自己吃。一个人一个人总比两个人吃得少些——这无论如何是一种节约。我要介绍、尊敬和恭维太太！”
“这个小鬼！他才算得是一个人呢！”老猫儿说。“太太只须温柔地喵一下——喵一下关于他的事情，他就马上改变态度。太太真是狡猾！”
不过这倒不是因为太太狡猾，而是因为小鬼是一个“人”的缘故。
如果你不懂这个故事，你可以去问问别人；
但是请你不要问小鬼，也不要问太太。
这篇作品发表在《故事集》第2辑里。这里所谈到的问题就是文艺——具体地说，诗——与物质利益的关系。小鬼从锁孔里偷看到，那个学生正在读的那本破书——诗集——中长出了青枝绿叶的树，开出了花朵——“每朵花儿都是一个美女的面孔：脸上的眼睛有的乌黑发亮，有的蓝得分外晶莹。”这情景真是美妙极了。小鬼心里想：“我倒很想跟这学生住在一起哩。”但一回到现实中来，他住楼底下那个小商人的屋子里却保证了他有饭吃——那个穷学生可没有这种能力。于是，他只好“把我分给两个人，为了那碗粥，我不能舍弃那个小商人。”故事的结论是：“这话说得很近人情！”