"Am I to hear any more stories?" asked little Hjalmar, as soon
as Ole-Luk-Oie had sent him to sleep.
"We shall have no time this evening," said he, spreading out his
prettiest umbrella over the child. "Look at these Chinese," and then
the whole umbrella appeared like a large china bowl, with blue trees
and pointed bridges, upon which stood little Chinamen nodding their
heads. "We must make all the world beautiful for to-morrow morning,"
said Ole-Luk-Oie, "for it will be a holiday, it is Sunday. I must
now go to the church steeple and see if the little sprites who live
there have polished the bells, so that they may sound sweetly. Then
I must go into the fields and see if the wind has blown the dust
from the grass and the leaves, and the most difficult task of all
which I have to do, is to take down all the stars and brighten them
up. I have to number them first before I put them in my apron, and
also to number the places from which I take them, so that they may
go back into the right holes, or else they would not remain, and we
should have a number of falling stars, for they would all tumble
down one after the other."
"Hark ye! Mr. Luk-Oie," said an old portrait which hung on the
wall of Hjalmar's bedroom. "Do you know me? I am Hjalmar's
great-grandfather. I thank you for telling the boy stories, but you
must not confuse his ideas. The stars cannot be taken down from the
sky and polished; they are spheres like our earth, which is a good
thing for them."
"Thank you, old great-grandfather," said Ole-Luk-Oie. "I thank
you; you may be the head of the family, as no doubt you are, but I
am older than you. I am an ancient heathen. The old Romans and
Greeks named me the Dream-god. I have visited the noblest houses,
and continue to do so; still I know how to conduct myself both to high
and low, and now you may tell the stories yourself:" and so
Ole-Luk-Oie walked off, taking his umbrellas with him.
"Well, well, one is never to give an opinion, I suppose," grumbled
the portrait. And it woke Hjalmar.