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安徒生童话:“Soup from a Sausage Skewer” 肉肠签子汤

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  “In that case,” said the mouse-king, “we will hear what the third mouse has to say.”

  “Squeaksqueak,” cried a little mouse at the kitchen doorit was the fourthand not the thirdof the four who were contending for the prizeone whom the rest supposed to be dead. She shot in like an arrowand overturned the sausage peg that had been covered with crape. She had been running day and night. She had watched an opportunity to get into a goods trainand had travelled by the railwayand yet she had arrived almost too late. She pressed forwardlooking very much ruffled. She had lost her sausage skewerbut not her voicefor she began to speak at once as if they only waited for herand would hear her onlyand as if nothing else in the world was of the least consequence. She spoke out so clearly and plainlyand she had come in so suddenlythat no one had time to stop her or to say a word while she was speaking. And now let us hear what she said.

  What the Fourth MouseWho Spoke Before the ThirdHad to Tell

  STARTED off at once to the largest town,“ said she, ”but the name of it has escaped me. I have a very bad memory for names. I was carried from the railwaywith some forfeited goodsto the jailand on arriving I made my escapeand ran into the house of the turnkey. The turnkey was speaking of his prisonersespecially of one who had uttered thoughtless words. These words had given rise to other wordsand at length they were written down and registered'The whole affair is like making soup of sausage skewers' said he'but the soup may cost him his neck.'

  “Now this raised in me an interest for the prisoner,” continued the little mouse, “and I watched my opportunityand slipped into his apartmentfor there is a mouse-hole to be found behind every closed door. The prisoner looked palehe had a GREat beard and largesparkling eyes. There was a lamp burningbut the walls were so black that they only looked the blacker for it. The prisoner scratched pictures and verses with white chalk on the black wallsbut I did not read the verses. I think he found his confinement wearisomeso that I was a welcome guest. He enticed me with bread-crumbswith whistlingand with gentle wordsand seemed so friendly towards methat by degrees I gained confidence in himand we became friendshe divided his bread and water with megave me cheese and sausageand I really began to love him. AltogetherI must own that it was a very pleasant intimacy. He let me run about on his handand on his armand into his sleeveand I even crept into his beardand he called me his little friend. I forgot what I had come out into the world forforgot my sausage skewer which I had laid in a crack in the floorit is lying there still. I wished to stay with him always where I wasfor I knew that if I went away the poor prisoner would have no one to be his friendwhich is a sad thing. I stayedbut he did not. He spoke to me so mournfully for the last timegave me double as much bread and cheese as usualand kissed his hand to me. Then he went awayand never came back. I know nothing more of his history.

  “the jailer took possession of me now. He said something about soup from a sausage skewerbut I could not trust him. He took me in his hand certainlybut it was to place me in a cage like a tread-mill. Oh how dreadful it wasI had to run round and round without getting any farther in advanceand only to make everybody laugh. The jailer's grand-daughter was a charming little thing. She had curly hair like the brightest goldmerry eyesand such a smiling mouth.

  “'You poor little mouse' said sheone day as she peeped into my cage'I will set you free.' She then drew forth the iron fasteningand I sprang out on the window-silland from thence to the roof. Freefreethat was all I could think ofnot of the object of my journey. It GREw darkand as night was coming on I found a lodging in an old towerwhere dwelt a watchman and an owl. I had no confidence in either of themleast of all in the owlwhich is like a catand has a great failingfor she eats mice. One may however be mistaken sometimesand so was Ifor this was a respectable and well-educated old owlwho knew more than the watchmanand even as much as I did myself. The young owls made a great fuss about everythingbut the only rough words she would say to them were'You had better go and make some soup from sausage skewers.' She was very indulgent and loving to her children. Her conduct gave me such confidence in herthat from the crack where I sat I called out 'squeak.' This confidence of mine pleased her so much that she assured me she would take me under her own protectionand that not a creature should do me harm. The fact wasshe wickedly meant to keep me in reserve for her own eating in winterwhen food would be scarce. Yet she was a very clever lady-owlshe explained to me that the watchman could only hoot with the horn that hung loose at his sideand then she said he is so terribly proud of itthat he imagines himself an owl in the tower;—wants to do great thingsbut only succeeds in smallall soup on a sausage skewer. Then I begged the owl to give me the recipe for this soup. 'Soup from a sausage skewer' said she'is only a proverb amongst mankindand may be understood in many ways. Each believes his own way the bestand after allthe proverb signifies nothing.' 'Nothing' I exclaimed. I was quite struck. Truth is not always agreeablebut truth is above everything elseas the old owl said. I thought over all thisand saw quite plainly that if truth was really so far above everything elseit must be much more valuable than soup from a sausage skewer. So I hastened to get awaythat I might be home in timeand bring what was highest and bestand above everythingnamelythe truth. The mice are an enlightened peopleand the mouse-king is above them all. He is therefore capable of making me queen for the sake of truth.”

  “Your truth is a falsehood,” said the mouse who had not yet spoken; “I can prepare the soupand I mean to do so.”

  How It Was Prepared

  DID not travel,“ said the third mouse; ”I stayed in this countrythat was the right way. One gains nothing by travellingeverything can be acquired here quite as easilyso I stayed at home. I have not obtained what I know from supernatural beings. I have neither swallowed itnor learnt it from conversing with owls. I have got it all from my reflections and thoughts. Will you now set the kettle on the firesoNow pour the water inquite fullup to the brimplace it on the firemake up a good blazekeep it burningthat the water may boilit must boil over and over. Therenow I throw in the skewer. Will the mouse-king be pleased now to dip his tail into the boiling waterand stir it round with the tail. The longer the king stirs itthe stronger the soup will become. Nothing more is necessaryonly to stir it.“

  “Can no one else do this?” asked the king.

  “No,” said the mouse; “only in the tail of the mouse-king is this power contained.”

  And the water boiled and bubbledas the mouse-king stood close beside the kettle. It seemed rather a dangerous performancebut he turned roundand put out his tailas mice do in a dairywhen they wish to skim the cream from a pan of milk with their tails and afterwards lick it off. But the mouse-king's tail had only just touched the hot steamwhen he sprang away from the chimney in a GREat hurryexclaiming, “Ohcertainlyby all meansyou must be my queenand we will let the soup question rest till our golden weddingfifty years henceso that the poor in my kingdomwho are then to have plenty of foodwill have something to look forward to for a long timewith great joy.”

  And very soon the wedding took place. But many of the miceas they were returning homesaid that the soup could not be properly calledsoup from a sausage skewer,” butsoup from a mouse's tail.” They acknowledged also that some of the stories were very well toldbut that the whole could have been managed differently. “I should have told it soand soand so.” These were the critics who are always so clever afterwards.

  When this story was circulated all over the worldthe opinions upon it were dividedbut the story remained the same. Andafter allthe best way in everything you undertakeGREat as well as smallis to expect no thanks for anything you may doeven when it refers tosoup from a sausage skewer.”

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melody ['melədi]

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n. 旋律,曲子,美的音乐,曲调

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mighty ['maiti]

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adj. 强有力的,强大的,巨大的
adv.

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nibble ['nibl]

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n. 轻咬,啃 v. 一点点地咬,慢慢啃,吹毛求疵

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request [ri'kwest]

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n. 要求,请求
vt. 请求,要求

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acquire [ə'kwaiə]

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vt. 获得,取得,学到

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chimney ['tʃimni]

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n. 烟囱

 
fur [fə:]

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n. 毛皮,软毛,皮衣,毛皮制品
vt. 用毛

 
conduct [kən'dʌkt]

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n. 行为,举动,品行
v. 引导,指挥,管理

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shelter ['ʃeltə]

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n. 庇护所,避难所,庇护
v. 庇护,保护,

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skewer [skjuə]

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n. 串肉杆 vt. 用杆串好

 

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