But you must not think that the affair is over now; it grows much worse.

The night passed, the next day also; but nobody came to fetch the Shoes.

In the evening "Dramatic Readings" were to be given at the little theatre in
King Street. The house was filled to suffocation; and among other pieces to be
recited was a new poem by H. C. Andersen, called, My Aunt's Spectacles; the
contents of which were pretty nearly as follows:

"A certain person had an aunt, who boasted of particular skill in
fortune-telling with cards, and who was constantly being stormed by persons
that wanted to have a peep into futurity. But she was full of mystery about
her art, in which a certain pair of magic spectacles did her essential
service. Her nephew, a merry boy, who was his aunt's darling, begged so long
for these spectacles, that, at last, she lent him the treasure, after having
informed him, with many exhortations, that in order to execute the interesting
trick, he need only repair to some place where a great many persons were
assembled; and then, from a higher position, whence he could overlook the
crowd, pass the company in review before him through his spectacles.
Immediately 'the inner man' of each individual would be displayed before him,
like a game of cards, in which he unerringly might read what the future of
every person presented was to be. Well pleased the little magician hastened
away to prove the powers of the spectacles in the theatre; no place seeming to
him more fitted for such a trial. He begged permission of the worthy audience,
and set his spectacles on his nose. A motley phantasmagoria presents itself
before him, which he describes in a few satirical touches, yet without
expressing his opinion openly: he tells the people enough to set them all
thinking and guessing; but in order to hurt nobody, he wraps his witty
oracular judgments in a transparent veil, or rather in a lurid thundercloud,
shooting forth bright sparks of wit, that they may fall in the powder-magazine
of the expectant audience."

The humorous poem was admirably recited, and the speaker much applauded. Among
the audience was the young man of the hospital, who seemed to have forgotten
his adventure of the preceding night. He had on the Shoes; for as yet no
lawful owner had appeared to claim them; and besides it was so very dirty
out-of-doors, they were just the thing for him, he thought.

The beginning of the poem he praised with great generosity: he even found the
idea original and effective. But that the end of it, like the Rhine, was very
insignificant, proved, in his opinion, the author's want of invention; he was
without genius, etc. This was an excellent opportunity to have said something
clever.

Meanwhile he was haunted by the idea--he should like to possess such a pair of
spectacles himself; then, perhaps, by using them circumspectly, one would be
able to look into people's hearts, which, he thought, would be far more
interesting than merely to see what was to happen next year; for that we
should all know in proper time, but the other never.

"I can now," said he to himself, "fancy the whole row of ladies and gentlemen
sitting there in the front row; if one could but see into their hearts--yes,
that would be a revelation--a sort of bazar. In that lady yonder, so strangely
dressed, I should find for certain a large milliner's shop; in that one the
shop is empty, but it wants cleaning plain enough. But there would also be
some good stately shops among them. Alas!" sighed he, "I know one in which all
is stately; but there sits already a spruce young shopman, which is the only
thing that's amiss in the whole shop. All would be splendidly decked out, and
we should hear, 'Walk in, gentlemen, pray walk in; here you will find all you
please to want.' Ah! I wish to Heaven I could walk in and take a trip right
through the hearts of those present!"

And behold! to the Shoes of Fortune this was the cue; the whole man shrunk
together and a most uncommon journey through the hearts of the front row of
spectators, now began. The first heart through which he came, was that of a
middle-aged lady, but he instantly fancied himself in the room of the
"Institution for the cure of the crooked and deformed," where casts of
mis-shapen limbs are displayed in naked reality on the wall. Yet there was
this difference, in the institution the casts were taken at the entry of the
patient; but here they were retained and guarded in the heart while the sound
persons went away. They were, namely, casts of female friends, whose bodily or
mental deformities were here most faithfully preserved.

With the snake-like writhings of an idea he glided into another female heart;
but this seemed to him like a large holy fane.* The white dove of innocence
fluttered over the altar. How gladly would he have sunk upon his knees; but he
must away to the next heart; yet he still heard the pealing tones of the
organ, and he himself seemed to have become a newer and a better man; he felt
unworthy to tread the neighboring sanctuary which a poor garret, with a sick
bed-rid mother, revealed. But God's warm sun streamed through the open window;
lovely roses nodded from the wooden flower-boxes on the roof, and two sky-blue
birds sang rejoicingly, while the sick mother implored God's richest blessings
on her pious daughter.

* temple


He now crept on hands and feet through a butcher's shop; at least on every
side, and above and below, there was nought but flesh. It was the heart of a
most respectable rich man, whose name is certain to be found in the Directory.

He was now in the heart of the wife of this worthy gentleman. It was an old,
dilapidated, mouldering dovecot. The husband's portrait was used as a
weather-cock, which was connected in some way or other with the doors, and so
they opened and shut of their own accord, whenever the stern old husband
turned round.

Hereupon he wandered into a boudoir formed entirely of mirrors, like the one
in Castle Rosenburg; but here the glasses magnified to an astonishing degree.


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