Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales: Twenty Tales Illustrated by Harry Clarke Read online

  “But we’re afraid!” said the young storks, and they cowered in the nest.

  The next day, the boys returned. When they saw the storks they started to sing their song:

  “The first will be hanged,

  The second will be hit...”

  “Will we be hanged and beaten up?” asked the young storks.

  “No,” replied the mother stork. “But you must learn to fly – I’ll teach you. Then we shall fly out to the meadow and say hello to the frogs. When they pop up their heads and sing ‘Co-ax! Co-ax,’ we’ll eat them up.”

  “And then what?” asked the young storks.

  “Then all the storks in the country will gather and the autumn flying exercises will begin. You must learn to fly well or you’ll die, so pay attention and try hard.”

  “But then we’ll be killed – just as the boys say. We can hear them now.”

  “Listen to me and not to them,” said the mother stork. “After the flying exercises, we will fly to a warm country called Egypt, which is far away over high mountains and green forests. When we get there you will see three stone houses called pyramids, which point up into the sky. They are older than you can imagine! There is a river there that floods every year and turns all the land to mud, full of delicious frogs to eat.”

  “Oh!” cried the young storks.

  “Yes! It’s wonderful! We’ll spend all day eating. We’ll be comfortable and happy in Egypt, but here the trees will be bare and it will be so cold that the clouds will freeze and fall down in little pieces like cotton.”

  The mother stork was talking about snow.

  “And will the boys freeze to pieces and fall down?” asked the young storks.

  “No, they won’t freeze to pieces, but they will get very cold and they’ll have to sit in dark rooms and cower. But you will be able to fly around in the sunshine where there are lots of wonderful flowers.”

  Time passed, and the young storks had grown so big that they could stand upright in the nest and look all around. Every day, the father stork brought them delicious frogs, little snakes and other stork delicacies to eat. He performed funny acts for them by laying his head upon his tail and clapping with his beak, and then he told them stories about the marshes. “Now it’s time to learn to fly,” said the mother stork one day. So the four young storks went out onto the ridge of the nest. They tried to balance with their wings, but they kept falling over.

  THE STORKS

  “Watch me,” said the mother stork. “You have to hold your heads like this, and put your feet like this. One, two! One, two! That will help.”

  Then the mother stork flew a few metres and the young storks leapt clumsily. But they fell down because their bodies were too heavy.

  “I will not fly!” said one of the young storks, and he crept back to the nest. “I don’t care about going to Egypt!”

  “Do you want to freeze to death here when the winter arrives? Do you want the boys to sing at you, and then shoot you and roast you for dinner? I’ll call them for you.”

  “No!” cried the young stork. He hopped back on to the roof and joined the others.

  By the third day of practising the storks could fly a little, but they also thought they could soar and hover in the air. They tried but they tumbled down and had to flap their wings as quick as they could. The boys in the street came and sang their song:

  “Stork, stork, flay away!”

  “Shall we fly down and peck them?” asked the young storks.

  “No,” replied the mother stork, “leave them alone and listen to me, what I’m saying is far more important. One, two, three! Fly to the right! One, two, three! Fly to the left, round the chimney. Well done. The last kick you did with your feet was very good. You will be allowed to fly to the marsh with me tomorrow. Lots of nice stork families go there with their young storks, and I want to show them that mine are the nicest and the best fliers.”

  “But can’t we get our own back on those boys?” asked the young storks.

  “Let them scream as much as they like. You will fly up into the clouds and go to the land of the pyramids, while they’ll have to shiver and there won’t be a single green leaf or juicy apple around.”

  “Shhhh – we’ll get our revenge ourselves!” the young storks whispered to one other, and then they continued practising.

  The boy singing loudest was the one who had started the song in the first place. He was only six years old and he was very little. But the young storks thought that he must be a hundred, because he was so much bigger than their mother or father. It was this boy that they wanted to get their revenge upon. The young storks were very angry, and as they got bigger they were less patient. Finally, their mother agreed that they would get their revenge, but not until the day before they were due to leave for Egypt.

  “First, we have to see how well you behave at the marsh,” said the mother stork. “If you don’t fly well, the chief stork will peck you with his beak and you won’t be allowed to come with us to Egypt. Then the boy will be right and you’ll end up on the spit.”

  “We’ll fly the very best we can!” cried the young storks, and they practised hard every day until they could fly so well that they looked neat and graceful.

  Soon, it was autumn and all the storks were preparing for the long journey to Egypt. But the young ones had to pass their flying test first. They flew over forests and villages to show how well they could soar. The young storks did incredibly well and got the highest mark possible: “Remarkably well, with frogs and snakes on top!” And as an extra reward they were even allowed to eat the frogs and snakes.

  “Now we’ll get our revenge!” they said.

  “Yes, we will!” said the mother stork. “I’ve thought of a good way to pay that cruel little boy back. I know a pond where all the human babies sleep before a stork takes them to their parents. They lie there dreaming sweetly all day long. When the parents receive their baby they are overjoyed, and all the little boys and girls are delighted to have a little brother or sister. We’ll fly to the pond and each take a little brother or sister to all the girls and boys in the village, except to the boys who sang and mocked us.”

  “But what about the meanest boy? The one who started the song!” screamed the young storks.

  “We’ll take him a brother or sister that has dreamed itself into eternal sleep. Then he’ll be sad because he’ll have no one to play with. But do you remember that good little boy named Peter? He refused to join in with the singing so we’ll take him a brother and a sister this year. Peter was such a good boy that I’m going to name you all Peter too.”

  So all the young storks were named Peter, and after delivering the babies they set off for Egypt.

  THE UGLY DUCKLING

  It was a glorious summer, with yellow cornfields and hay stacked up neatly in the green meadows. The stork went about on his long, red legs chattering in Egyptian, for this was the language he had learned from his mother. All around the fields and meadows were great forests and in the midst of these were deep lakes.

  The fields belonged to a lovely old farm, which was surrounded by lazy canals with wildlife all around. In the canal beside the old barn, there was a duck sitting upon her nest, waiting for her eggs to hatch.

  At last, one eggshell after another burst open. “Piep! Piep!” each duckling cried, as its head popped out of the shell. In a while, they were all free of their shells and were excited to see the green leaves and blue water all around them.

  “How wide the world is!” said the young ducklings. For they certainly had more room now they were free from their eggs.

  “Do you think that this is all the world?” asked their mother. “That extends beyond the garden over there and into the meadow,” she said, “though I’ve not been there myself.” She wiggled a bit and stood up to lead her new brood, but noticed that one egg had yet to hatch. It was the biggest of them all. “I hope this one is as pretty as you all!” she exclaimed.

  An old drake came along
and said, “That’s not a duck’s egg! It’s a turkey egg!”

  The mother duck was most put out and replied, “I think not! It’s just a very large duckling! I’ll sit here a while longer until it hatches.”

  At last the great egg burst. “Piep! Piep!” it went and out popped the occupant of the shell. It was very large and very ugly! The duck looked at it.

  “It’s a very large duckling!” she said, “none of the others look like that. Can it really be a turkey chick? Now we shall soon find out, for it’s coming for a swim tomorrow, like it or not!”

  The weather was beautiful the next day and the sun shone through the trees. The mother duck went down to the water with her new brood behind her. With a splash, she jumped in and they all followed behind her. The ugly, grey duckling swam with the rest. The mother duck was delighted and exclaimed, “See how it swims! It’s my own child and not so ugly if you catch it in the right light! Quack, quack, come with me and I’ll lead you out into the poultry yard and then the wide world.”

  They soon came upon the poultry yard, where two families of ducks were squabbling over a bit of fish. The cat took it in the end and the argument was settled.

  “Come along children!” demanded the mother duck. “Let’s show the world our best appearance. Come now, shake your tails and don’t turn in your toes! A well-brought-up duck points its toes and bends its neck nicely!”

  The grand-looking Spanish duck and all the other ducks in the yard watched the mother duck and her brood waddle by.

  They weren’t impressed by the newcomers and especially by the ugly grey one. One nasty duck flew up and bit it on the neck!

  “Leave it alone!” screamed the mother duck. “It’s done no harm to you!”

  “Yes, but it’s too large and weird looking,” said the nasty duck.

  “It’s very peculiar,” said the Spanish duck, “they’re all very pretty except that one. I wish we could alter its appearance!”

  “Well, that can’t be done, Madam,” declared the mother duck, with much irritation. “It swims well and will become smaller and better looking in time. What’s more, it is a drake and will be very strong and do well in the world.”

  “Hmm, we’ll see!” said the Spanish duck. “Make yourselves at home, but make sure you find something tasty for me to eat.”

  But the poor ugly duckling was soon set upon one by one by all the other ducks and birds in the yard. “It is too big!” they all exclaimed. The turkey cock, who was the toughest of them all, puffed up his feathers to make himself look enormous and raced around the ugly duckling until he became red in the face.

  So it went on, day after day. The poor ugly duckling was bullied and beaten by everyone, even his brothers and sisters, who said, “If only the cat would catch you and put an end to it all!”

  Even the girl who fed the poultry kicked at it with her foot. The ugly ducking became so upset that it shut its eyes and took flight over the yard fence and into the woods beyond the meadow. By nightfall, it came upon a lake shore, where it landed and lay down all night. Towards morning the wild ducks found the ugly duckling amongst them. They gathered round and said, “And who are you? You are remarkably ugly! It does not matter to us so long as you don’t marry one of our family.”

  Poor thing, all it could think of was to find some water and a little to eat! Here it stayed for two whole days, then two wild geese crept up beside him. Like him, they were not long out of their eggs.

  “Listen pal,” said one of them. “You’re so ugly that I like you! Will you come with us out onto the wild moor and meet the other geese? You have a chance of making your fortune, even though you’re so ugly.”

  With that, there was a loud “bang, bang” and the two geese fell down dead as a whole flock of birds took off into the sky. What a fright! The hunters’ dogs came racing through the shallows and came right up to the ugly duckling’s beak. They sniffed and growled and ran on to their masters.

  “Oh, heavens,” said the ugly duckling. “I am so ugly that even the dogs don’t want to bite me!”

  The poor thing hid in the reeds all day long, while the hunt went on around him. Eventually, the guns fell silent and it began to rain, first a few drops and then a torrential gale. The ugly duckling made his way to a little hut, where there was a gap in the broken old door. He squeezed through the gap and inside he found an old woman, with her cat called Tom and a brown hen. The cat began to purr and the hen to cluck, so that the old woman noticed the duckling at her feet.

  “What’s this?” said the old woman. But she could not see well and thought that the cat had brought in a fat duck that had strayed. “My, this is a grand prize. Soon we shall have duck eggs!”

  And so the duck was allowed to stay in the old hut, but no eggs came. The hen and the cat were not impressed and wanted to make sure that the ugly duckling didn’t mess up their comfortable lives.

  “Can you lay eggs?” enquired the hen.

  “No,” said the duckling.

  “Then you’ll have the goodness not to argue with me!” said the hen.

  “Can you arch your back and spit and purr whenever you like?” asked the cat.

  “No,” said the duckling.

  “Then you cannot have any opinion of your own!” said the cat.

  So the ugly duckling sat in a corner, with only his dreams of paddling in the water to comfort him. After a few days, he decided to go away and leave the hut and with it the miserable cat and hen.

  He flew off and soon found some water. But he was shunned by every creature that came upon him because of his ugliness.

  Soon it became autumn and the leaves in the forest turned yellow and brown and were gone. The wind blew up and it became colder and colder. Then one day, the ugly duckling saw a whole flock of the most handsome and beautiful white birds he had ever seen. They had dazzlingly long necks and a strange cry. The birds lined up to take off down the water and circled around the lake so that the ugly duckling had to turn round and round to watch them. He bobbed up and down in the water and they were gone! He felt a terrible aching in his heart as they vanished into the sky and could only think of possessing the loveliness of the birds whose name he did not know.

  “THE NEW ONE IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF ALL”

  The winter came and it became colder and colder. The ugly duckling was forced to swim around in the water to stop the surface from freezing. But every night the hole in which he swam became smaller and smaller. The duck had to paddle and paddle to stop the hole from freezing over, but he became exhausted and soon he was stuck fast in the ice.

  Early in the morning, a peasant came by and saw what had happened. He took his wooden shoe and broke the ice and carried the duckling home to his wife and children. The children were excited and wanted to play with the duckling, but the duckling was frightened and in its terror managed to knock over the milk pan and he flew into the butter tub! He struggled out and took off again, heading for the open door and freedom beyond.

  The tale would be sadder still if I told you of all the misery that the ugly duckling had to endure all winter long, on the freezing cold moor amongst all the unfriendly creatures.

  Then one day the larks began to sing and the sun came up. It was a beautiful spring and all of a sudden the duckling could fly better than ever before. It found itself in a great garden, where the elder-trees smelled sweet as they bent their branches down to the canal that wound through the garden. And there from a thicket came three of the beautiful white birds that he had seen, gently gliding along the water.

  The ugly duckling decided that he would fly amongst them and be killed by these royal birds – better than to be pursued and beaten by ducks and chickens and little girls in the poultry yard. He flew out into their midst and cried, “Kill me!” The poor creature expected nothing but death, but what was this in the glassy water’s surface? He beheld his own image and lo! No longer was he an ugly, grey duckling, but a beautiful and graceful swan!

  The great swans swam around h
im and stroked him and for the first time he felt loved and happy.

  Into the garden came little children, who threw bread and corn into the water. The youngest of them cried, “There is a new one! Look, a beautiful new swan!”

  The parents and children clapped their hands and danced with excitement to see the latest arrival. The new swan felt quite ashamed, for he did not know what to do. He was so happy, yet not at all proud. He thought how he had been persecuted and despised and now he heard them saying that he was the most beautiful of all the birds. Then his wings rustled and he lifted his long neck and cried with rejoice from the depths of his heart, “I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was the ugly duckling!”

  THE SHEPHERDESS AND THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER

  There was once a very old wooden cupboard, darkened with age and decorated with carved foliage and patterns. It had been handed down from a great-grandmother, and it was covered with carved roses and tulips. There were stags with large antlers and a man had been carved into the middle of the cupboard door. He looked very funny: he had a big grin, legs like a goat, little horns on his head and a long beard. The children of the house called him Mr Billygoat-Legs-Lieutenant-and-Major-General-War-Commander-Sergeant. He looked at the table under the mirror, on which stood a little shepherdess made of china. She wore a gold hat and shoes, and she held a shepherd’s crook. Her dress had a big red rose on it and she looked very pretty. Next to her there stood a chimney-sweeper. He was painted black, but because he didn’t actually sweep any chimneys he was clean and neat. The factory that made him could have just as easily painted him to look like a prince.

  The chimney-sweeper and the shepherdess had been standing next to each other for so long that they had become engaged. They suited each other well because they were both made of the same brittle china.

  Near to them there stood a man that was three times their size. He was also made of porcelain and had been made so skilfully that he could nod his head. He claimed that he was the grandfather of the shepherdess and that she must do what he said. He had agreed to let Mr Billygoat-Legs-Lieutenant-and-Major-General-War-Commander-Sergeant marry her.