SHE WAS GOOD FOR NOTHING
THE mayor stood at the open widow．He was in his shirt-sleeves，with a breast-pin stuck in his frill，and was uncommonly smooth shaven-all his own work；certainly he had given him self a slight cut，but he had stuck a bit of newspaper on the place．
“Hark ye，youngster！”he cried．
The youngster in question was no other than the son of the poor washerwoman，who was just going past the house；and he pulled off his cap respectfully．The peak of the said cap was broken in the middle，for the cap was arranged so that it could be rolled up and crammed into his pocket．In his poor，but clean and well-mended attire，with heavy wooden shoes on his feet，the boy stood there，as humble as if he stood before the King himself．
“You're a good boy， said Mr．Mayor．“You’ re a civil boy．I suppose your mother is rinsing clothes down in the river？I suppose you are to carry that thing to your mother that you have in your pocket？It's a bad affair with your mother．How much have you got there？
“Half a quarter，”stammered the boy，in a frightened voice．
“And this morning she had just as much，”the mayor continued．
“No，”replied the boy，“it was yesterday．”
“Two halves make a whole．She's good for nothing！It's a sad thing with that class of people！Tell your mother that she ought to be ashamed of herself；and mind you don't become a drunkard-but you will become one，though．Poor child-there，go！”
And the boy went．He kept his cap in his hand，and the wind played with his yellow hair，so that great locks of it stood up straight．He turned down by the street comer，into the little lane that led to the river，where his mother stood by the washing bench，beating the heavy linen with the mallet．The water rolled quickly along，for the flood-gates at the mill had been drawn up，and the sheets were caught by the stream，and threatened to overturn the bench．The washerwoman was obliged to lean against the bench to support it．
“I was very near sailing away，”she said．“It is a good thing that you are come，for I need to recruit my strength a little．It is cold out here in the water，and I have been standing here for six hours．Have you brought anything for me？”
The boy produced the bottle，and the mother put it to her mouth，and took a little． “Ah，how that revives one！”said she；“how it warms！It is as good as a hot meal，and not so dear．And you，my boy！you look quite pale．You are shivering in your thin clothes-to be sure it is autumn．Ugh！how cold the water is！I hope I shall not be ill．But no，I shall not be that！Give me a little more，and you may have a sip too，but only a little sip，for you must not accustom your self to it，my poor dear child！”
And she stepped up to the bridge on which the boy stood，and came ashore．The water dripped from the straw matting she had wound round her，and from her gown．
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“I work and toil as much as ever I can，”she said，“but I do it willingly，if I can only manage to bring you up honestly and well，my boy．”
As she spoke，a somewhat older woman came towards them．She was poor enough to behold，lame of one leg，and with a large false curl hanging down over one of her eyes，which was a blind one．The curl was intended to cover the eye，but it only made the defect more striking．This was a friend of the laundress．She was called among the neighbours，“Lame Martha with the curl．”
“Oh， you poor thing！How you work，standing there in the water！”cried the visitor．“You really require some-thing to Warm you；and yet malicious folks cry out about the few drops you take！ ”
And in a few minutes’ time the mayor's late speech was reported to the laundress；for Martha had heard it all，and she had been angry that a man could speak as he had done to a woman's own child，about the few drops the mother took；and she was the more angry，because the mayor on that very day was giving a great feast，at which wine was drunk by the bottle-good wine，strong wine．
A good many will take more than they need-but that's not called drinking．They are good；but you are good for nothing！”cried Martha，indignantly．
“Ah，so he spoke to you，my child？”said the washerwoman；and her lips trembled as she spoke．“So he says you have a mother who is good for nothing？Well，perhaps he's right，but he should not have said it to my child．Still，I have had much misfortune from that house．”
“You were in service there when the mayor's parents were alive，and lived in that house，That is many years ago：many bushels of salt have been eaten since then， and we may well be thirsty；and Martha smiled．“The mayor has a great dinner-party today．The guests were to have been put off，but it was too late，and the dinner was al-ready cooked．The footman told me about it．A letter came a little while ago，to say that the younger brother had died in Copenhagen．”
“Died？”repeated the laundress-and she became pale as death．
“Yes，certainly，said Martha．“Do you take that so much to heart？Well，you must have known him years ago，when you were in service in the house．”
“Is he dead？He was such a good， worthy man！There are not many like him．”And the tears rolled down her cheeks．Good gracious！everything is whirling around me-it was too much for me．I feel quite ill．”And she leaned against the phank．
“Good gracious，you are ill indeed！exclaimed the other woman．“Come，come，it will pass over presently．But no，you really look seriously ill．The best thing will be for me to lead you home．”
“But my linen yonder-”
“I will see to that．Come，give me your arm．The boy can stay here and take care of it，and I'll come back and finish the washing；it's only a trifle． ”
The laundress's limbs shook under her．“I have stood too long in the cold water，”she said faintly，“and I have eaten and drunk nothing since this morning．The fever is in my bones．O kind Heaven，help me to get home．My poor child！”And she burst into tears．
The boy wept too，and soon he was sitting alone by the river，beside the damp linen．The two women could make only slow progress．The laundress dragged her weary limbs along，and tottered through the lane and round the corner into the street where stood the house of the mayor；and just in front of his mansion she sank down on the pavement．Many people assembled round her，and lame Martha ran into the house to get help．The mayor and his guests came to the window．
That's the washerwoman！”he said．“She has taken a glass too much．She is good for nothing．It's a pity for the pretty son she has．I redlly like the child very well；but the mother is good for nothing．”
Presently the laundress came to herself，and they led her into her poor dwelling，and put her to bed．Kind Martha heated a mug of beer for her，with butter and sugar，which she considered the best medicine；and then she hastened to the river，and rinsed the linen-badly enough，though her will was good．Strictly speaking，she drew it ashore，wet as it was，and laid it in a basket．
Towards evening she was sitting in the poor little room with the laundress．The mayor's cook had given her some roasted potatoes and a fine fat piece of ham for the sick woman，and Martha and the boy discussed these viands while the patient enjoyed the smell，which she pronoum ced very nourishing．
And presently the boy was put to bed，the same bed in which his mother lay；but he slept at her feet，covered with an old quilt made up of blue and white patches．
Soon the patient felt a little better．The warm beer had strengthened her，and the fragrance of the provisions also did her good．
“Thanks，you kind soul，” she said to Martha．“I will tell you all when the boy is asleep．I think he has dropped off already．How gentle and good he looks，as he lies there with his eyes closed．He does not know what his mother has suffered，and Heaven grant he may never know it．I was in service at the councillor's，the father of the mayor．It happened that the youngest of the sons，the student，came home．I was young then，a wild girl，but honest，that I may declare in the face of Heaven．The student was merry and kind，good and brave．Every drop of blood in him was good and honest．I have not seen a better man on this earth．He was the son of the house，and I was only a maid，but we formed an attachment to each other，honestly and honourably．And he told his mother of it，for she was in his eyes as a deity on earth；and she was wise and gentle．He went away on a journey，but before he started he put his gold ring on my finger：and directly he was gone my mistress called me．With a firm yet gentle seriousness she spoke to me，and it seemed as if Wisdom itself were speaking．She showed me clearly，in spirit and in truth，the difference there was between him and me．
“‘ Now he is charmed with your pretty appearance， ’she said，‘but your good looks will leave you．You have not heen educated as he has．You are not equals in mind，and there is the misfortune．I respect the poor，’she continued：‘in the sight of God they may cupy a higher place than many a rich man can fill；but here on earth we must beware of entering a false track as we go onward， or our carriage is upset，and we are thrown into the road．I know that a worthy man wishes to marry you-an artisan-I mean Erich the glove-maker．He is a widower without children，and is well-to-do．Think it over．’
“Every word she spoke cut into my heart like a knife，but I knew that that my mistress was right，and that knowledge weighed heavily upon me．I kissed her hand，and wept bitter tears，and I wept still more when I went into my room and threw myself on my bed．It was a heavy night that I had to pass through．Heaven knows what I suffered and how I wrestled！The next Sunday I went to the Lord's house，to pray for strength and guidance．It seemed like a providence，that as I stepped out of church Erich came towards me．And now there was no longer a doubt in my mind．We were suited to each other in rank and in means，and he was even then a thriving man．Therefore I went up to him，took his hand，and said，‘Are you still of the same mind towards me？’‘Yes，ever and always，’he replied．‘Will you marry a girl who honours and respects，but who does not love yon-though that may come later？’I asked him．‘Yes，it will come！’he answered．And upon this we joined hands．I went home to my mistress．I wore the gold ring that her son had given me at heart．I could not put it on my finger in the daytime，but only in the evening when I went to bed．I kissed the ring again and again，till my lips almost bled，and then I gave it to my mistress，and told her the banns were to be put up next week for me and the glove-maker．Then my mistress put her arms round me and kissed me．She did not say that I was good for nothing；but perhaps I was better then than I am now ，for the misfortunes of life had not yet found me out．On Candlemas we were married；and for the first year the world went well with us：we had a joumeyman and an apprentice，and you，Martha，lived with us as our servant ．
“Oh，you were a dear，good mistress，”cried Martha．“Never shall I forget how kind you and your husband were！”
“Yes，those were our good years，when you were with us．We had not any children yet．The student I never saw again．—Ah，yes，I saw him，but he did not see me．He was here at his mother's funeral．I saw him stand by the grave．He was pale as death，and very downcast，but that was for his mother；afterwards，when his father died，he was away in a foreign land，and did not come back here．I know that he never married；I believe he became a lawyer．He had forgotten me，and even if he had seen me again，he would not have known me，I look so ugly．And that is very fortunate．
And then she spoke of her days of trial，and told how misfortune had come as it were swooping down upon them．
“We had five hundred dollars，”she said；“and as there was a house in the street to be bought for two hundred，and it would pay to pull it down and build a new one，it was bought．The builder and carpenter calculated the expense，and the new house was to cost a thousand and twenty．Erich had credit，and borrowed the money in the chief town，but the captain who was to bring it was ship-wrecked，and the money was lost with him．”
“Just at that time my dear sweet boy who is sleeping yonder was born．My husband was struck down by a long heavy illness：for three-quarters of a year I was compelled to dress and undress him．We went back more and more，and fell into debt．All that we had was sold，and my husband died．I have worked，and toiled，and striven for the sake of the child，scrubbing staircases，washing linen，fine and coarse alike，but I was not to be better off，such was God's good will．But He will take me to Himself in His own good time，and will not forsake my boy．”
And she fell asleep．
Towards morning she felt much refresed．and strong enough，as she thought，to go back to her work．She had just stepped again into the cold water，when a trembling and faintness seized her：she clutched at the air with her hand，took a step forward，and fell down．Her head rested on the bank，and her feet were still in the water；her wooden shoes，with a wisp of straw in each，which she had worn，floated down the stream，and thus Martha found her on coming to bring her some coffee．
In the meantime a messenger from the mayor's house had been dispatched to her poor lodging to tell her “to come to the mayor immediately，for he had something to tell her．”It was too late！A barber-surgeon was brought to open a vein in her arm；but the poor woman was dead．
“She has drunk herself to death！”said the mayor．
In the letter that brought the news of his brother's death，the contents of the will had been mentioned，and it was a legacy of six hundred to the glove-maker's widow，who had once been his mother maid．The money was to be paid，according to the mayor's discretion，in larger or smaller sums，to her or to her child， ”
“There was some fuss between my brother and her，”said the mayor．“It's a good thing that she is dead；for now the boy will have the whole，and I will get him into a house among respectable people．He may turn out a reputable working man．
And Heaven gave its blessing to these wods．
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So the mayor sent for the boy，promised to take care of him，and added that it was good thing the lad's mother was dead，inasmuch as she had been good for nothing．
They bore her to the churchyard，to the cemetery of the poor， and Martha planted a tree upon the grave，and the boy stood beside her．
“My dear mother！”he cried，as the tears fell fast．“Is it true what they said，that she was good for nothing？”
“No，she was good for much！”replied the old servant，and she looked up indignantly．“I knew it many a year ago，and more than all since last night．I tell you she was worth much，and the Lord in heaven knows it is true，let the world say，as much as it chooses，‘She was good for nothing．’”
她是一个废物
市长正站在开着的窗子面前。他只穿着衬衫；衬衫的前襟上别着一根领带别针。他的胡子刮得特别光——是他亲自刮的。的确，他划开了一个小口，但是他已经在上面贴了一小片报纸。
“听着，小家伙！”他大声说。
这小家伙不是别人，就是那个贫苦的洗衣妇的儿子。他正在这房子前面经过；他恭恭敬敬地把帽子摘下来。帽舌的中间是断的，因为这样他随时可以把帽子卷起来塞在衣袋里。这孩子穿着一件朴素的旧衣服，但是衣服很干净，补得特别平整，脚上拖着一双厚木鞋。他站在那儿，卑微得好像是站在皇帝面前一样。
“你是一个好孩子！”市长先生说，“你是一个有礼貌的孩子！我想你妈妈正在河边洗衣服；你现在是要把藏在衣袋里的东西送给她吗？这对你母亲说来是一件很不好的事情！你弄到了多少？”
“半斤，”这孩子用一种害怕的声音吞吞吐吐地说。
“今天早晨她已经喝了这么多，”市长说。
“没有，那是昨天！”孩子回答说。
“两个半斤就整整是一斤！她真是一个废物！你们这个阶级的人说来也真糟糕！告诉你妈妈，她应该觉得羞耻。你自己切记不要变成一个酒徒——不过你会的！可怜的孩子，你去吧！”
孩子走开了，帽子仍然拿在手中，风在吹着他金黄的头发，把卷发都弄得直立起来了。他绕过一个街角，拐进一条通向河流的小巷里去。他的母亲站在水里一个洗衣凳旁边，用木 杵打着一大堆沉重的被单。水在滚滚地奔流，因为磨房的闸门已经抽开了；这些被单被水冲着，差不多要把洗衣凳推翻。这个洗衣妇不得不使尽一切气力来稳住这凳子。
“我差不多也要被卷走了！”她说，“你来得正好，我正需要补充一下体力，站在这水里真冷，但是我已经站了6个钟头了。你带来什么东西给我吗？”
孩子取出一瓶酒来。妈妈把它凑在嘴上，喝了一点。
“啊，这算是救了我！”她说；“它真叫我感到温暖！它简直像一顿热饭，而且价钱还不贵！你也喝点吧，我的孩子！你看起来简直一点血色都没有。你穿着这点单衣，要冻坏的。而且现在又是秋天。噢！水多冷啊！我希望我不要闹起病来。不，我不会生病的！再给我喝一口吧，你也可以喝一点，不过只能喝一点，可不能喝上瘾，我可怜的、亲爱的孩子！”
于是她就走出河水，爬到孩子站着的那座桥上来。水从她草编的围裙上和她的衣服上不停地往下滴。
“我要苦下去，我要拼命地工作，[工作得直到手指流出血来]。不过，我亲爱的孩子，只要我能凭诚实的劳动把你养大，我吃什么苦也愿意。”
当她正在说这话的时候，有一个年纪比她大一点的女人向他们走来了。她的衣服穿得非常寒碜，一只脚也跛了，还有一卷假发盖在一只眼睛上。这卷假发的作用本来是要掩住这只瞎眼的，不过它反而把这缺点弄得更突出了。她是这个洗衣妇的朋友。邻居们把她叫做“假发跛子玛撒”。
“咳，你这可怜的人！你简直在冷水里工作得不要命了！你的确应该喝点什么东西，把自己暖一下；不过有人一看到你喝几滴就大喊大叫起来！”不一会儿，市长刚才说的话就全部传到洗衣妇的耳朵里去了，因为玛撒把这些话全都听到了，而且她很生气，觉得他居然敢把一个母亲所喝的几滴酒，那样郑重其事地告诉给她亲生的儿子，特别是因为市长正在这天要举行一个盛大的宴会；在这宴会上，大家将要一瓶瓶地喝着酒。而且是烈性的好酒！“有许多人将要喝得超过他们的酒量——但是这却不叫做喝酒！他们是有用的人，但是你却是废物！”玛撒愤愤不平地叫道。
“啊，我的孩子！他居然对你说那样的话！”洗衣妇说，同时她的嘴唇在发抖。“你看，你的妈妈是个废物！也许他的话有道理，但他不能对我的孩子说呀！况且我在他家里吃的苦头已经够了。”
“当市长的父母还活着的时候，你就在他家里当佣人，并且住在他家里。那是多少年前的事！从那时起，人们不知吃了多少斗的盐，现在人们也应该感到渴了！”玛撒笑了一下。“市长今天要举行一个盛大的午宴。他本来要请那些客人改期再来的，不过已经来不及了，因为菜早就准备好了。这事是门房告诉我的。一个钟头以前他接到一封信，说他的弟弟已经在哥本哈根死了。”
“死了？”洗衣妇大叫一声；她变得像死一样地惨白。
“是的，死了，”玛撒说。“你感到特别伤心吗？是的，许多年前你就认识他，你在他家当过佣人。”
“他死了！他是一个非常好、非常可爱的人！我们的上帝是少有像他那样的人的。”于是眼泪就沿着她的脸滴下来了。“啊，老天爷！我周围的一切东西都在打旋转！——这是因为我把一瓶酒喝光了的缘故。我实在没有那么大的酒量！我觉得我病了！”于是她就靠着木栅栏，免得倒下来。
“老天爷，你真的病了！”玛撒说。“不要急，你很快就会清醒过来的。不对，你看起来真的病得厉害！我最好还是把你送回家去吧。”
“不过我这堆衣服——”
“交给我好了！来，扶着我吧！你的孩子可以留在这儿等着。我一会儿就回来把它洗完；它并不多。”
这个洗衣妇的腿在发抖。
她软弱无力地说：“我在冷水里站得太久了！从清早起我就没有吃喝过什么东西。我全身烧得滚烫。啊，仁慈的上帝！请帮助我走回家去吧！啊，我可怜的孩子！”于是她就哭起来。
孩子也哭起来。他单独坐在河边，守着这一大堆湿衣服。这两个女人走得很慢。洗衣妇拖着疲惫不堪的脚步，摇摇摆摆地走过一条小巷，拐过一条街，来到市长住着的那条街上。一到他的公馆面前，她就倒到人行道上去了。许多人围拢来。
跛脚玛撒跑进这公馆里去找人来帮忙。市长和他的客人们走到窗子面前来朝外面望。
“原来是那个洗衣的女人！”他说。“她喝得太多，醉了！她是一个废物！真可惜，她有一个可爱的儿子。我的确喜欢这孩子。不过这母亲是一个废物！”
不一会儿洗衣妇恢复了知觉。大家把她扶到她简陋的屋子里去，然后把她放到床上。好心肠的玛撒为她热了一杯啤酒，里面加了一些黄油和糖；她认为这是最好的药品。然后她就匆匆忙忙地跑到河边去，把衣服洗完了——洗得够马虎，虽然她的本意很不坏。严格地说，她不过只是把潮湿的衣服拖上岸来，放进桶里去罢了。
天黑的时候，她来到那间简陋的小房子里，坐在洗衣妇的旁边。她特别为病人向市长的厨子讨了一点烤洋山芋和一片肥火腿来。玛撒和孩子大吃了一通，不过病人只能欣赏这食物的香味。她说香味也是很滋补的。
不一会儿，孩子就上床去睡了，睡在他的妈妈睡的那张床上。他横睡在她的脚头，盖着一床打满了蓝色和白色补丁的旧被子。
洗衣妇感到现在精神稍微好了一点。温暖的啤酒使她有了一点气力；食物的香味也对她起了好的作用。
“多谢你，你这个好心肠的人，”她对玛撒说。“孩子睡着以后，我就把一切经过都告诉你。我想他已经睡着了。你看，他闭着眼睛躺着，是一副多么温柔好看的样儿！他一点也不知道妈妈的痛苦——我希望老天爷永远不要让他知道。我那时是帮那位枢密顾问官——就是市长的父亲——做佣人。有一天他的在大学里念书的小儿子回来了。我那时是一个粗野的年轻女孩子；但是我可以在老天爷面前发誓，我是正派的！”洗衣妇说。“那大学生是一个快乐、和蔼、善良和勇敢的人！他身上的每一滴血都是善良和诚实的。我在这世界上没有看到过比他更好的人。他是这家的少爷，我不过是一个女佣人。但是我们相爱起来了——我们相爱是真诚的，正当的。[当人们真诚地相爱的时候，接吻就不能算是罪过了。]他把这事告诉了他的母亲，她在他的眼中就像世上的一个活神仙。她既聪明，又温柔。他要去旅行，离开家的时候就把他的金戒指套在我的手指上。他已经走了很远以后，我的女主人就喊我去。她用一种坚定、但是温和严肃的语气对我说话——只有我们的上帝才能这样讲话。她把他跟我的区别，无论从精神方面或实质方面，都清楚地告诉了我。
“‘他现在只看到你是多么漂亮，’她说，‘不过漂亮是保持不住多久的！你没有受过他那样的教育。你在智力方面永远赶不上他——不幸的关键就在这里。我尊重穷人，’她继续说：‘在上帝面前，他们比许多富人的位置还高；不过在我们人的世界里，我们必须当心不要越过了界限，不然车子就会翻掉，我们两人也就会翻到路上去。我知道有一个很好的人向你求过婚——一个手艺人——就是那个手套匠人爱力克。他的妻子已经死了，没有小孩。 他的境遇也很好。你考虑考虑吧！’ “她讲的每个字都像一把刺进我心里的尖刀。不过我知道她的话是有道理的。这使我感到难过，感到沉重。我吻了她的手，流出苦痛的眼泪。当我回到我的房里倒到床上的时候，我哭得更痛苦。这是我最难过的一夜。只有上帝知道，我是在怎样受难，怎样挣扎！
“第二个礼拜天我到教堂里去，祈求上帝指引我。当我走出教堂的时候，手套匠人爱力克正在向我走来——这好像就是上帝的意志。这时我心里的一切疑虑都消除了。我们在身份和境遇方面都是相称的——他还可以算得是境况好的人。因此我就走向他，握着他的手，同时说：
“‘你的心还没有变吧？’
“‘没有，永远不会变！’他回答说。
“‘你愿跟一个尊重和敬服你、但是不爱你的女子结婚吗——虽然她以后可能会对你发生爱情？’我问他。
“‘是的，爱情以后就会来的！’他说。这样，我们就同意了。我回到女主人的家里来。她的儿子给我的那个戒指一直是藏在我的怀里。我在白天不敢戴它；只是在晚上我上床去睡的时候才戴上它。现在我吻着这戒指，一直吻得我的嘴唇要流出血来。然后我把它交还给我的女主人，同时告诉她，下星期牧师要宣布我和手套匠人的结婚的预告。我的女主人双手抱着我，吻我。她没有说我是一个废物；不过那时我可能是比现在更有用一点的，因为我还没有碰上生活的灾难。在圣烛节那天我们就结婚了。头一年我们的生活还不坏：我们有一个伙计和一个学徒，还有你，玛撒——你和我们住在一起，是我们的佣人。”
“啊，你是一个善良的女主人！”玛撒说。“我永远也忘记不了，你和你的丈夫对我是多么好！”
“是的，你和我们住在一起的时候，正是我们过得好的时候！我们那时还没有孩子。那个大学生我再也没有见到过——啊，对了，我看到过他，但是他却没有看到我！他回来参加他母亲的葬礼。我看到他站在坟旁；脸色死一般 惨白，样子很消沉，不过那是因为母亲死了的缘故。后来，当他的父亲死的时候，他正住在外国，没有回来。以后他也没有回来。我知道他一直没有结婚。后来他成了一个律师。他已经把我忘记了。即使他再看到我，大概也不会认识我的——我已经变得非常难看。这也可算是一件幸事！”
于是她谈到她那些苦难的日子和她家所遭遇到的突如其来的不幸。她说：“我们积蓄了500块钱。街上有一座房子要卖，估价是两百块钱。把它拆了，再建一座新的，还是值得。所以我们就把它买下来了，石匠和木匠把费用计算了一下：新房子的建筑费要1020块钱。手套匠人爱力克很有信用，所以他在京城里借了这笔钱。不过带回这笔钱的那个船长，在半路上翻了船；钱和他本人都没有了。
“这时候，现在正在睡觉的我的这个亲爱的孩子出世了。长期的重病把我的丈夫拖倒了。有9个月的光景。我得每天替他穿衣和脱衣。我们一天不如一天，而且在不停地借债。我们把所有的东西都卖了，接着丈夫也死了。我工作着，操劳着，为我的孩子操劳和工作，替人擦楼梯，替人洗粗细衣服，但是我的境遇还是没有办法改好——这就是上帝的意志！他将要在适当的时候把我唤走的，他也不会不管我的孩子。”
于是她便睡去了。
到了早晨她的精神好了许多，也觉得有了些气力；她觉得自己可以去继续工作。不过她一走进冷水里去的时候，就感到一阵寒颤和无力。她用手在空中乱抓，向前走了一步，便倒下来了，她的头搁在岸上，但是脚仍然浸在水里。她的一双木鞋——每只鞋里垫着一把草——顺着水流走了。这情形是玛撒送咖啡来时看到的。
这时市长家里的一个仆人跑到她简陋的屋子里来，叫她赶快到市长家里去，因为她有 事情要对她讲。但是现在已经迟了！大家请来 了一个剃头兼施外科手术的人来为她放血。不过这个可怜的洗衣妇已经死了。
“她喝酒喝死了！”市长说。
那封关于他弟弟去世的信里附有一份遗嘱的大要。这里面有一项是：死者留下600块钱交给他母亲过去的佣人——就是现在的手套匠的遗孀。这笔钱应该由市长斟酌决定，以或多或少的数目付给她或她的孩子。
“我的弟弟和她曾经闹过一点无聊的事儿，”市长说。“幸亏她死了，现在那个孩子可以得到全部的钱。我将把他送到一个正经人家里去寄养，好使他将来可以成为一个诚实的手艺人。”
请我们的上帝祝福这几句话吧。
于是市长就把这孩子喊来，答应照顾他，同时还说他的母亲死了是一桩好事，因为她是一个废物！
人们把她抬到教堂墓地去，埋在穷人的公墓里。玛撒在她的坟上栽了一棵玫瑰树；那个孩子立在她旁边。
“我亲爱的妈妈！”他哭起来，眼泪不停地流着。“人们说她是一个废物，这是真的吗？”
“不，她是一个非常有用的人！”那个老佣人说，同时生气地朝天上望着。“我在许多年以前就知道她是一个好人；从昨天晚上起我更知道她是一个好人。我告诉你她是一个有用的人！老天爷知道这是真的。让别人说‘她是一个废物’吧！”
这篇作品和《卖火柴的小女孩》一样，是发表在《丹麦大众历书》上。丹麦每年要出一本“历书”，像我们过去的“皇历”，供广大民众在日常生活中参考。所不同的是，这种历书按惯例总要请一位作家写篇故事，以“新年展望”这类的题材作为内容，供广大群众翻用历书时阅读。正因为如此，安徒生才与众不同，特别提供像《卖火柴的小女孩》和《她是一个废物》这类尖锐地反映现实生活的故事，使人们在快乐中不要忘掉受苦的人。
这位被市长先生认为是“废物”的洗衣妇，其实是一个极为勤劳、善良、自尊心强、具有纯洁感情的穷苦妇女。“我要苦下去，我要拼命地工作[，工作得直到手指流出血来]。不过，我亲爱的孩子，只要我能凭诚实的劳 动把你养大，我吃什么苦也愿意。”她是一个伟大的母亲。她无依无靠，当了一生佣人，因她生得漂亮，主人家的小少爷爱上了她，但女主人认为她出身卑贱，劝她嫁给一个手套制作匠人，而这个匠人又不幸早死，她和儿子成了孤儿寡母，而且气力已衰，无人雇她，只好靠洗衣为生。这是一项非常艰苦的工作，对过了中年以后的她更是如此：她“站在水里一个洗衣凳旁边，用木棒槌打着一大堆沉重的被单。水在滚滚地流，因为磨坊的闸门已经抽开了；这些被单被水冲着，差不多要把洗衣凳推翻。这个洗衣妇不得不使尽一切气力来稳住这凳子。”她有时得在这样的冷水里一口气站6个钟头以上。她得喝点酒来产生一点热力。“它简直像一顿热饭，而且价钱不贵！”但是市长却因此说她是个“废物”，虽然他自己在举行宴会的时候，大家一瓶一瓶地喝着，“而 且是烈性的好酒！……但是这却不叫做喝酒！他们是有用的人……”这个可怜的妇人终于因为浸在水里时间太长，劳动过度，倒在水里死去了。她心地善良，逆来顺受，但“人们说她是个废物，这是真的吗？”这句问话代表了安徒生向社会提出的一个抗议。