"It is incredible how many elderly people there are who would be so
glad of me," said Olé Luckoiè, "especially those who have done any
thing wrong. 'Good little Olé,' say they to me, 'we cannot close our
eyes; and so we lie all night long awake, and see all our bad deeds,
which sit, like ugly little imps, on the bed's head, and squirt hot
water on us. Wilt thou only just come and drive them away, that we may
have a good sleep!' and with that they heave such deep sighs--'we would
so gladly pay thee; good-night, Olé!' Silver pennies lie for me in the
window," said Olé Luckoiè, "but I do not give sleep for money!"
"Now what shall we have to-night?" inquired Yalmar.
"I do not know whether thou hast any desire to go again to-night to a
wedding," said Olé Luckoiè; "but it is of a different kind to that of
last night. Thy sister's great doll, which is dressed like a gentleman,
and is called Herman, is going to be married to the doll Bertha;
besides, it is the doll's birthday, and therefore there will be a great
many presents made."
"Yes, I know," said Yalmar; "always, whenever the dolls have new
clothes, my sister entreats that they have a birthday or a wedding;
that has happened certainly a hundred times!"
"Yes, but to-night it is the hundred and first wedding, and when
a hundred and one is done then all is over! Therefore it will be
incomparably grand. Only look!"
Yalmar looked at the table; there stood the little doll's house
with lights in the windows, and all the tin soldiers presented arms
outside. The bridal couple sat upon the floor, and leaned against the
table-legs, and looked very pensive, and there might be reason for it.
But Olé Luckoiè, dressed in the grandmother's black petticoat, married
them, and when they were married, all the furniture in the room joined
in the following song, which was written in pencil, and which was sung
to the tune of the drum:--
Our song like a wind comes flitting
Into the room where the bride-folks are sitting;
They are partly of wood, as is befitting:
Their skin is the skin of a glove well fitting!
Hurrah, hurrah! for sitting and fitting!
Thus sing we aloud as the wind comes flitting!
And now the presents were brought, but they had forbidden any kind of
eatables, for their love was sufficient for them.
"Shall we stay in the country, or shall we travel into foreign parts?"
asked the bridegroom; and with that they begged the advice of the
breeze, which had travelled a great deal, and of the old hen, which
had had five broods of chickens. The breeze told them about the
beautiful, warm countries where the bunches of grapes hung so large and
so heavy; where the air was so mild, and the mountains had colors of
which one could have no idea "in this country."
"But there they have not our green cabbage!" said the hen. "I lived
for one summer with all my chickens in the country; there was a dry,
dusty ditch in which we could go and scuttle, and we had admittance to
a garden where there was green cabbage! O, how green it was! I cannot
fancy any thing more beautiful!"
"But one cabbage-stalk looks just like another," said the breeze; "and
then there is such wretched weather here."
"Yes, but one gets used to it," said the hen.
"But it is cold--it freezes!"
"That is good for the cabbage!" said the hen. "Besides, we also have
it warm. Had not we four years ago a summer which lasted five weeks,
and it was so hot that people did not know how to bear it? And then we
have not all the poisonous creatures which they have there! and we are
far from robbers. He is a good-for-nothing fellow who does not think
our country the most beautiful in the world! and he does not deserve to
be here!" and with that the hen cried.--"And I also have travelled,"
continued she; "I have gone in a boat above twelve miles; there is no
pleasure in travelling."
"The hen is a sensible body!" said the doll Bertha; "I would rather not
travel to the mountains, for it is only going up to come down again.
No! we will go down into the ditch, and walk in the cabbage-garden."
And so they did.