There were, once upon a time, five-and-twenty tin soldiers; they were
all brothers, for they were born of an old tin spoon. They held their
arms in their hands, and their faces were all alike; their uniform was
red and blue, and very beautiful. The very first word which they heard
in this world, when the lid was taken off the box in which they lay,
was, "Tin soldiers!" This was the exclamation of a little boy, who
clapped his hands as he said it. They had been given to him, for it was
his birthday, and he now set them out on the table. The one soldier was
just exactly like another; there was only one of them that was a little
different; he had only one leg, for he had been the last that was made,
and there was not quite tin enough; yet he stood just as firmly upon
his one leg as they did upon their two, and he was exactly the one who
became remarkable.
Upon the table on which he had set them out, there stood many other
playthings; but that which was most attractive to the eye, was a pretty
little castle of pasteboard. One could look through the little windows
as if into the rooms. Outside stood little trees, and round about it a
little mirror, which was to look like a lake; swans of wax swam upon
this, and were reflected in it. It was altogether very pretty; but the
prettiest thing of all was the little young lady who stood at the open
castle door, for she was a dancer; and she lifted one of her legs so
high in the air, that the tin soldier might almost have fancied that
she had only one leg, like himself.
"That is a wife for me!" thought he, "but she is a great lady;
she lives in a castle, I in nothing but a box; and then we are
five-and-twenty of us, there is no room for her! Yet I must make her
acquaintance!"
And so he set himself behind a snuff-box, which stood on the table, and
from thence he could very plainly see the pretty little lady, which
remained standing upon one leg, without ever losing her balance.
That continued all the evening, and then the other tin soldiers were
put into their box, and the people of the house went to bed. The
playthings now began to amuse themselves; they played at company
coming, at fighting, and at having a ball. The tin soldiers rattled
about in their box, for they wanted to be with the rest of the things,
but they could not get the box lid off. The nutcrackers knocked about
the gingerbread nuts, and the slate-pencil laughed with the slate; it
was so entertaining that the canary-bird awoke, and began to chatter
with them also, but she chattered in verse. The only two which did not
move from their place were the tin soldier and the little dancing lady.
She kept herself so upright, standing on the point of her toe, with
both her arms extended; and he stood just as steadily upon his one leg,
and his eyes did not move from her for one moment.
It now struck twelve o'clock, and crash! up sprang the lid of the
snuff-box, but there was no snuff in it; no, there was a little black
imp--it was a jack-in-the-box.
"Tin soldier!" said the imp, "keep thy eyes to thyself!"
But the tin soldier pretended that he did not hear.
"Yes, we shall see in the morning!" said the imp.
And now it was the next morning, and the children got up, and they set
the tin soldier in the window,--and either it was the imp, or else it
was a sudden gust of wind, but the casement burst open, and out went
the tin soldier, head foremost, down from the third story! It was a
horrible fall, he turned head over heels, and remained standing with
his one leg up in the air, and with his bayonet down among the stones
of a sink.
The maid-servant and the little boy went down directly to seek for him,
but although they almost trod upon him, still they could not see him.
If the tin soldier had only shouted out, "Here I am!" they would have
found him; but he did not think it would be becoming in him to shout
out when he had his uniform on.
It now began to rain; one drop fell heavier than another; it was a
regular shower. When it was over there came up two street boys.
"Look here!" said one of them, "here lies a tin soldier. He shall have
a sail!"
So they made a boat of a newspaper, and set the tin soldier in it, and
now he sailed down the kennel; the two lads ran, one on each side, and
clapped their hands. Dear me! what billows there were in the uneven
kennel, and what a torrent there was, for it had poured down with rain!
The paper boat rocked up and down, and whirled round so fast! The tin
soldier must have trembled, but he showed no fear at all, he never
changed his countenance, and stood holding his weapon in his hand.
Just then the boat was driven under a large arch of the kennel, and it
was as dark to the tin soldier as if he had been in his box.
"Where am I now come to?" thought he; "yes, yes, it is all that imp's
doing! Ah! if the little dancing lady were only in the boat, I would
not mind if it were twice as dark!"
At that moment up came a great big water-rat, which lived under the
kennel's archway.
"Have you a passport?" asked the rat. "Out with your passport!"
But the tin soldier said not a word, and stood stock still, shouldering
his arms. The boat shot past, and the rat came after. Ha! how he set
his teeth, and cried to the sticks and the straws,--
"Stop him! stop him! he has not paid the toll! He has not shown his
passport!"
But the stream got stronger and stronger. The tin soldier could already
see daylight at the end of the tunnel, but at the same time he heard a
roaring sound, which might well have made a bolder man than he tremble.
Only think! where the tunnel ended, the water of the kennel was poured
down into a great canal; which would be, for him, just as dangerous as
for us to sail down a great waterfall!
He was now come so near to it that he could no longer stand upright.
The boat drove on; the tin soldier held himself as stiff as he could;
nobody could have said of him that he winked with an eye. The boat
whirled round three times, and filled with water to the very edge--it
must sink! The tin soldier stood up to his neck in water! Deeper and
deeper sank the boat, the paper grew softer and softer! Now went the
water above the soldier's head!--he thought of the little dancing lady,
whom he should never see more, and it rung in the tin soldier's ear,--
"Fare thee well, thou man of war!
Death with thee is dealing!"
The paper now went in two, and the tin soldier fell through; and at
that moment was swallowed by a large fish!
Nay, how dark it was now in there! It was darker than in the kennel
archway, and much narrower. But the tin soldier was steadfast to his
duty; and he lay there, shouldering his arms. The fish twisted about,
and made the most horrible sort of movements; at last it became quite
still; a flash of lightning seemed to go through it. Light shone quite
bright, and some one shouted aloud, "Tin soldier!"
The fish had been caught, taken to market, sold, and brought into the
kitchen, where the servant-girl cut it up with a great knife. She
took the soldier, who was as alive as ever, between her two fingers,
and carried it into the parlor, where she showed them all what a
remarkable little man had been travelling about in the stomach of the
fish! But the tin soldier was not proud. They set him upon the table,
and there--Nay, how wonderfully things happen in this world!--the tin
soldier was in the self-same room he had been in before; he saw the
self-same child, and the self-same playthings on the table; the grand
castle, with the pretty little dancing lady standing at the door. She
was standing still upon one leg, with the other raised; she also was
constant. It quite affected the tin soldier, he was ready to shed tin
tears, only that would not have been becoming in him. He looked at her,
and she looked at him, but neither of them said a word.
At that very moment one of the little boys took up the tin soldier, and
threw it into the stove. There was no reason for his doing so; it must
certainly have been the jack-in-the-box that was the cause of it.
The tin soldier stood amid the flames, and felt a great heat, but
whether it was actual fire, or love, he knew not. All color was quite
gone out of him; whether from his long journeying, or whether from
care, there is no saying. He looked at the little dancing lady, and
she looked at him; he felt that he was melting away, but for all that,
he stood shouldering his arms. With that the door of the room suddenly
opened, and a draught of wind carried away the dancer. Like a sylph she
flew into the stove to the tin soldier; became, all at once, flame,
and was gone! The tin soldier melted to a little lump; and when the
servant, the next day, was carrying out the ashes, she found him like
a little tin heart: of the dancing lady, on the contrary, there was
nothing but the ground on which she had stood, and that was burned as
black as a coal.