the lead soldier

 

 

Tale by Hans Christian Andersen

Translation by Ruth Salles

Once upon a time there was a platoon of twenty-five tin soldiers, all brothers, for they had been born from the same old tin spoon. They had shotguns on their shoulders, staring straight ahead, and their uniforms were red and blue. And once upon a time there was a boy, who received the little soldiers as a gift on his birthday. He opened the lid of the box, and when he saw the little soldiers, he clapped his hands and shouted:

 – Tin soldiers!

It was the first thing they heard in this world. And the boy shouted once more:

– Tin soldiers!

Then he took them out of the box and set them upright on the table. They were all the same except one, which was done last. As there was not enough lead left to melt, he had only one leg. But even so, he stood firmly on his one leg, like the others on two. And it was precisely with this little soldier that a fantastic story took place.

On the table where the toy soldiers had been placed, there were many other toys; but what caught the eye the most was a beautiful cardboard castle. It had been cut with great art. Little flags floated over the roof, and anyone looking through the small windows could see the halls inside. In front of the castle were some delicate little trees, and in the middle of them a little mirror that looked like a lake. Wax swans swam in the lake and were reflected in it. Everything was beautiful to look at, but the most charming thing was a little ballerina who was standing by the open castle door. It was as if she had leapt out of the castle. She was also made of cut cardboard, but she wore a petticoat of the finest linen and wore a narrow blue ribbon around her shoulders like a shawl. In the middle of the ribbon was a rose, made of glittering sequins and the size of her face. The delicate girl held out her arms, for she was a good dancer; and lifted one leg so high that it was hidden behind the petticoat. The tin soldier, not being able to see that leg, thought that the ballerina had only one, just like he did.

- That would be the ideal woman for me - he thought - only she seems very rich, because she lives in a castle, and I have only one box; and inside the box we are twenty-five. It's not a home worthy of her! Even so, I'd really like to be your friend.

There was also a snuff box on the table, which seemed like a good hiding place. The little soldier placed himself well behind, and from there he could watch the small and delicate ballerina. She was still standing on one leg and stayed that way, without losing her balance.

When night fell, the children and everyone in the house went to bed, and all the other tin soldiers to the box. Around midnight, however, the toys began to move and play. They played “castle”, “war” and “play ball”. The tin soldiers were moving around inside the box, because they wanted to go out and play too, but they couldn't lift the lid. The nutcracker did somersaults, the pencil drew drawings on the blackboard; the result is that, with so much noise, the canary woke up and began to take part in the conversation. He spoke very beautifully and in verse, and sometimes he also sang.

The only ones who didn't move were the tin soldier and the ballerina: she was still stretched out on tiptoe, with her arms raised, and he, too, was still standing on one leg. He never took his eyes off her for a moment.

At this, the clock struck midnight and – clap! – the lid of the snuff box suddenly opened. In fact, there was no snuff inside, but a magic toy, and what jumped out of the box was a little pixie.

- Tin soldier! - Said the little elf, swinging excitedly on the end of his spring - You have nothing to do with this ballerina. Take your eyes off her!

But the tin soldier pretended not to hear.

- Oh yes? Well then wait until tomorrow! - Said the goblin, before slipping back into his box.

The next day, when the children got up, they took the toy soldier and put it in the window. Suddenly – I don't know if it was the leprechaun or a gust of wind – suddenly the window opened, and the little soldier fell head over heels from the third floor, onto the street. What a terrible fall! But the brave little soldier, upside down, stuck his bayonet between the cobblestones.

At the same time, the boy and the maid went down to look for him. They passed very close and almost stepped on it, but did not see it and returned home without achieving anything. The little soldier should have called for both of them, shouldn't he? Ah, if he had shouted “I'm here!” he would have been found right away. But he didn't think it was right to shout aloud, in his uniform, and he remained stuck on the floor.

Then it began to rain; the drops fell harder and harder, and the rain turned into a downpour. The water ran between the cobblestones and formed a stream in the ditch. When the rain stopped, two boys appeared from the street.

– Look over there! A lead soldier! - Said one of them - It's very beautiful. Let's see how he sails around the world in a little boat?

And the two of them made a little boat out of folded newspaper, put the little soldier inside and pushed the little boat through the water. There went the little tin soldier in his proud ship down the ditch. The boys followed the descent running along the edge of the sidewalk, clapping their hands with joy.

The rain, however, increased the waters of the ditch, and the current was so strong that it formed high waves. The paper boat rocked up and down, and sometimes spun so fast that the tin soldier shuddered. Even so, he was not disturbed; he remained steady, staring straight ahead with the rifle over his shoulder. Suddenly, the little boat entered a culvert. It got very dark inside; it was as if the little soldier were back in his box.

– Where will I end up? - He thought - It's all that elf's fault! Ah, if the little ballerina was here with me, it could get darker even if I didn't even care.

At that moment, a sewage rat came swimming, which lived in the manhole.

– Who's coming here? You have passport? Show your passport! - exclaimed the rat.

The tin soldier remained silent and steadied his rifle. The paper boat was moving fast forward, and the rat was swimming behind. She huffed, bared her teeth and yelled at the chopsticks and straws that came with the current:

– Stop that soldier! stop! He didn't show his passport! He didn't pay a ticket! Can't go on trip!

However, the current was getting stronger and stronger, and the tin soldier could already see the light of day, where the manhole ended. But at the same time, he heard a frightening noise, the kind to frighten the bravest of men. The manhole empties into a large channel. The waters rushed in a vast current, and that was as dangerous for the little soldier as it would be for us to go down a waterfall.

And now he was so close, he couldn't stop. The little paper boat went on, and the poor little soldier stood his ground, as steady as he could; no one can say that he even blinked his eyes. The boat spun a couple of times in that maelstrom, was filled to the brim with water, and began to sink. It was sinking, sinking, and it was also falling apart; the tin soldier was already up to his neck in water, until at last she covered his head. Then he thought of the graceful little ballerina, whom he was certain to never see again, and the mournful sound of an old military song came to his ears:

“Go forth, O warrior,
will face death!”

The paper tore and just fell apart, and the little soldier sank for good, but at the same instant he was swallowed by a large fish.

Oh, how dark it was inside! Darker than in the manhole. On top of that it was very tight. The tin soldier, however, stood his ground and lay on the fish's stomach with his rifle over his shoulder. The fish swam this way, that way, then it stirred tremendously, and then it was still. Suddenly, a crack opened in him through which the light entered, and a voice shouted aloud:

- The lead soldier!

The fish had been caught, sold at the market and taken to a kitchen, where the cook opened it with a machete. Amazed, she took the little soldier by the waist with her fingertips and carried him into the living room. Everyone wanted to see that fantastic man who had traveled in the stomach of a fish.

But the tin soldier didn't feel important because of it. It was put on the table and – what amazing things happen in this world! – had ended up in the same room where he was before.

He saw the same children and the same toys, the same wonderful castle on the table and, in front of the castle door, the graceful little ballerina. There she was standing on one leg, the other stretched out in the air; she was still going strong! This moved the little soldier, and he just didn't cry leaden tears because he didn't look good.

He looked at her, and neither of them said anything.

Suddenly, one of the small children, for no reason at all, picked up the toy soldier and threw it into the fireplace; surely it was that snuffbox sprite's fault. The little soldier was all lit up and felt a terrible heat; but he did not know whether the heat was from the fire or from his love. Their colors were faded. Was it from the trip or the sadness? He looked at the cardstock girl, she looked at him, and he felt himself melting. But even so, he stood firm with the rifle on his shoulder. At that moment the door opened, and the wind carried the dancer. It flew like a butterfly and fell into the fireplace, right next to the tin soldier; then it caught fire… and disappeared.

The melted soldier turned into a lead ball. The next day, when the maid removed the ashes from the fireplace, she found it transformed into a small heart. All that was left of the ballerina was the sequin rose, all burnt out, and black as coal.

 

 

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