Every inhabitant of Copenhagen knows what the entrance to
Frederick's Hospital is like; but as most probably a few of those
who read this little tale may not reside in Copenhagen, we will give a
short description of it.
The hospital is separated from the street by an iron railing, in
which the bars stand so wide apart that, it is said, some very slim
patients have squeezed through, and gone to pay little visits in the
town. The most difficult part of the body to get through was the head;
and in this case, as it often happens in the world, the small heads
were the most fortunate. This will serve as sufficient introduction to
our tale. One of the young volunteers, of whom, physically speaking,
it might be said that he had a great head, was on guard that evening
at the hospital. The rain was pouring down, yet, in spite of these two
obstacles, he wanted to go out just for a quarter of an hour; it was
not worth while, he thought, to make a confidant of the porter, as
he could easily slip through the iron railings. There lay the
goloshes, which the watchman had forgotten. It never occurred to him
that these could be goloshes of Fortune. They would be very
serviceable to him in this rainy weather, so he drew them on. Now came
the question whether he could squeeze through the palings; he
certainly had never tried, so he stood looking at them. "I wish to
goodness my head was through," said he, and instantly, though it was
so thick and large, it slipped through quite easily. The goloshes
answered that purpose very well, but his body had to follow, and
this was impossible. "I am too fat," he said; "I thought my head would
be the worst, but I cannot get my body through, that is certain." Then
he tried to pull his head back again, but without success; he could
move his neck about easily enough, and that was all. His first feeling
was one of anger, and then his spirits sank below zero. The goloshes
of Fortune had placed him in this terrible position, and unfortunately
it never occurred to him to wish himself free. No, instead of
wishing he kept twisting about, yet did not stir from the spot. The
rain poured, and not a creature could be seen in the street. The
porter's bell he was unable to reach, and however was he to get loose!
He foresaw that he should have to stay there till morning, and then
they must send for a smith to file away the iron bars, and that
would be a work of time. All the charity children would just be
going to school: and all the sailors who inhabited that quarter of the
town would be there to see him standing in the pillory. What a crowd
there would be. "Ha," he cried, "the blood is rushing to my head,
and I shall go mad. I believe I am crazy already; oh, I wish I were
free, then all these sensations would pass off." This is just what
he ought to have said at first. The moment he had expressed the
thought his head was free. He started back, quite bewildered with
the fright which the goloshes of Fortune had caused him. But we must
not suppose it was all over; no, indeed, there was worse to come
yet. The night passed, and the whole of the following day; but no
one sent for the goloshes. In the evening a declamatory performance
was to take place at the amateur theatre in a distant street. The
house was crowded; among the audience was the young volunteer from the
hospital, who seemed to have quite forgotten his adventures of the
previous evening. He had on the goloshes; they had not been sent
for, and as the streets were still very dirty, they were of great
service to him. A new poem, entitled "My Aunt's Spectacles," was being
recited. It described these spectacles as possessing a wonderful
power; if any one put them on in a large assembly the people
appeared like cards, and the future events of ensuing years could be
easily foretold by them. The idea struck him that he should very
much like to have such a pair of spectacles; for, if used rightly,
they would perhaps enable him to see into the hearts of people,
which he thought would be more interesting than to know what was going
to happen next year; for future events would be sure to show
themselves, but the hearts of people never. "I can fancy what I should
see in the whole row of ladies and gentlemen on the first seat, if I
could only look into their hearts; that lady, I imagine, keeps a store
for things of all descriptions; how my eyes would wander about in that
collection; with many ladies I should no doubt find a large
millinery establishment. There is another that is perhaps empty, and
would be all the better for cleaning out. There may be some well
stored with good articles. Ah, yes," he sighed, "I know one, in
which everything is solid, but a servant is there already, and that is
the only thing against it. I dare say from many I should hear the
words, 'Please to walk in.' I only wish I could slip into the hearts
like a little tiny thought." This was the word of command for the
goloshes. The volunteer shrunk up together, and commenced a most
unusual journey through the hearts of the spectators in the first row.
The first heart he entered was that of a lady, but he thought he
must have got into one of the rooms of an orthopedic institution where
plaster casts of deformed limbs were hanging on the walls, with this
difference, that the casts in the institution are formed when the
patient enters, but here they were formed and preserved after the good
people had left. These were casts of the bodily and mental deformities
of the lady's female friends carefully preserved. Quickly he passed
into another heart, which had the appearance of a spacious, holy
church, with the white dove of innocence fluttering over the altar.
Gladly would he have fallen on his knees in such a sacred place; but
he was carried on to another heart, still, however, listening to the
tones of the organ, and feeling himself that he had become another and
a better man. The next heart was also a sanctuary, which he felt
almost unworthy to enter; it represented a mean garret, in which lay a
sick mother; but the warm sunshine streamed through the window, lovely
roses bloomed in a little flowerbox on the roof, two blue birds sang
of childlike joys, and the sick mother prayed for a blessing on her
daughter. Next he crept on his hands and knees through an overfilled
butcher's shop; there was meat, nothing but meat, wherever he stepped;
this was the heart of a rich, respectable man, whose name is doubtless
in the directory. Then he entered the heart of this man's wife; it was
an old, tumble-down pigeon-house; the husband's portrait served as a
weather-cock; it was connected with all the doors, which opened and
shut just as the husband's decision turned. The next heart was a
complete cabinet of mirrors, such as can be seen in the Castle of
Rosenberg. But these mirrors magnified in an astonishing degree; in
the middle of the floor sat, like the Grand Lama, the insignificant
I of the owner, astonished at the contemplation of his own features.
At his next visit he fancied he must have got into a narrow
needlecase, full of sharp needles: "Oh," thought he, "this must be the
heart of an old maid;" but such was not the fact; it belonged to a
young officer, who wore several orders, and was said to be a man of
intellect and heart.
The poor volunteer came out of the last heart in the row quite
bewildered. He could not collect his thoughts, and imagined his
foolish fancies had carried him away. "Good gracious!" he sighed, "I
must have a tendency to softening of the brain, and here it is so
exceedingly hot that the blood is rushing to my head." And then
suddenly recurred to him the strange event of the evening before, when
his head had been fixed between the iron railings in front of the
hospital. "That is the cause of it all!" he exclaimed, "I must do
something in time. A Russian bath would be a very good thing to
begin with. I wish I were lying on one of the highest shelves." Sure
enough, there he lay on an upper shelf of a vapor bath, still in his
evening costume, with his boots and goloshes on, and the hot drops
from the ceiling falling on his face. "Ho!" he cried, jumping down and
rushing towards the plunging bath. The attendant stopped him with a
loud cry, when he saw a man with all his clothes on. The volunteer
had, however, presence of mind enough to whisper, "It is for a wager;"
but the first thing he did, when he reached his own room, was to put a
large blister on his neck, and another on his back, that his crazy fit
might be cured. The next morning his back was very sore, which was all
he gained by the goloshes of Fortune.