THE OLD HOUSE

In the street, up there, was an old, a very old house--it was almost three
hundred years old, for that might be known by reading the great beam on which
the date of the year was carved: together with tulips and hop-binds there were
whole verses spelled as in former times, and over every window was a distorted
face cut out in the beam. The one story stood forward a great way over the
other; and directly under the eaves was a leaden spout with a dragon's head;
the rain-water should have run out of the mouth, but it ran out of the belly,
for there was a hole in the spout.

All the other houses in the street were so new and so neat, with large window
panes and smooth walls, one could easily see that they would have nothing to
do with the old house: they certainly thought, "How long is that old decayed
thing to stand here as a spectacle in the street? And then the projecting
windows stand so far out, that no one can see from our windows what happens in
that direction! The steps are as broad as those of a palace, and as high as to
a church tower. The iron railings look just like the door to an old family
vault, and then they have brass tops--that's so stupid!"

On the other side of the street were also new and neat houses, and they
thought just as the others did; but at the window opposite the old house there
sat a little boy with fresh rosy cheeks and bright beaming eyes: he certainly
liked the old house best, and that both in sunshine and moonshine. And when he
looked across at the wall where the mortar had fallen out, he could sit and
find out there the strangest figures imaginable; exactly as the street had
appeared before, with steps, projecting windows, and pointed gables; he could
see soldiers with halberds, and spouts where the water ran, like dragons and
serpents. That was a house to look at; and there lived an old man, who wore
plush breeches; and he had a coat with large brass buttons, and a wig that one
could see was a real wig. Every morning there came an old fellow to him who
put his rooms in order, and went on errands; otherwise, the old man in the
plush breeches was quite alone in the old house. Now and then he came to the
window and looked out, and the little boy nodded to him, and the old man
nodded again, and so they became acquaintances, and then they were friends,
although they had never spoken to each other--but that made no difference. The
little boy heard his parents say, "The old man opposite is very well off, but
he is so very, very lonely!"

The Sunday following, the little boy took something, and wrapped it up in a
piece of paper, went downstairs, and stood in the doorway; and when the man
who went on errands came past, he said to him--

"I say, master! will you give this to the old man over the way from me? I have
two pewter soldiers--this is one of them, and he shall have it, for I know he
is so very, very lonely."

And the old errand man looked quite pleased, nodded, and took the pewter
soldier over to the old house. Afterwards there came a message; it was to ask
if the little boy himself had not a wish to come over and pay a visit; and so
he got permission of his parents, and then went over to the old house.

And the brass balls on the iron railings shone much brighter than ever; one
would have thought they were polished on account of the visit; and it was as
if the carved-out trumpeters--for there were trumpeters, who stood in tulips,
carved out on the door--blew with all their might, their cheeks appeared so
much rounder than before. Yes, they blew--"Trateratra! The little boy comes!
Trateratra!"--and then the door opened.

The whole passage was hung with portraits of knights in armor, and ladies in
silken gowns; and the armor rattled, and the silken gowns rustled! And then
there was a flight of stairs which went a good way upwards, and a little way
downwards, and then one came on a balcony which was in a very dilapidated
state, sure enough, with large holes and long crevices, but grass grew there
and leaves out of them altogether, for the whole balcony outside, the yard,
and the walls, were overgrown with so much green stuff, that it looked like a
garden; only a balcony. Here stood old flower-pots with faces and asses' ears,
and the flowers grew just as they liked. One of the pots was quite overrun on
all sides with pinks, that is to say, with the green part; shoot stood by
shoot, and it said quite distinctly, "The air has cherished me, the sun has
kissed me, and promised me a little flower on Sunday! a little flower on
Sunday!"

And then they entered a chamber where the walls were covered with hog's
leather, and printed with gold flowers.

"The gilding decays,
But hog's leather stays!"

said the walls.

And there stood easy-chairs, with such high backs, and so carved out, and with
arms on both sides. "Sit down! sit down!" said they. "Ugh! how I creak; now I
shall certainly get the gout, like the old clothespress, ugh!"

And then the little boy came into the room where the projecting windows were,
and where the old man sat.

"I thank you for the pewter soldier, my little friend!" said the old man. "And
I thank you because you come over to me."

"Thankee! thankee!" or "cranky! cranky!" sounded from all the furniture; there
was so much of it, that each article stood in the other's way, to get a look
at the little boy.

In the middle of the wall hung a picture representing a beautiful lady, so
young, so glad, but dressed quite as in former times, with clothes that stood


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