# The Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen/Little Tuk

Little Tuk
ES, he was called Little Tuk—not that it was really his name, but he called himself so before he could speak plainly; he meant it for Charles, and it was all very well when one did but know it. Little Tuk was left to take care of his sister Gustave, who was much younger than himself; and at the same time he had to learn his lesson, only the two things could not very well be carried on simultaneously. The poor little fellow sat with his sister on his knee, and sang her all the songs he knew, while ever and anon he gave a look at his geography-book that lay open before him; for he had to get by heart the names of all the towns in Zealand, and to know all that could be known about them by the next morning.
His mother, who had been out, now came home, and took little Gustave in her arms; then Tuk ran to the window, and read and read so zealously, that he nearly read his eyes out, for it grew darker and darker; and his mother had no money to buy a light.
"There goes the old washerwoman, opposite, down the street," said the mother, looking out of window. "The poor woman can hardly drag herself along; and now she has to drag a bucket from the well into the bargain. Now, do just step over, Tuk, and help the old woman, there's a good boy."
And Tuk ran off and helped her; but when he returned it was quite dark in the room, and as there was no talk about having a candle, he was obliged to go to bed, and he lay in his old crib thinking of his geography lesson, and of Zealand, and of all the things his schoolmaster had told him. He need have read a good deal more, but this he could not do. So he placed the geography-book under his bolster, because he had heard that it was a great help towards learning one's lessons—though it must not be too much depended upon.
There he lay thinking and thinking—when it suddenly seemed to him as if some one kissed him on his mouth and eyes. He was asleep, and yet he was not; it was as if the old washerwoman looked at him with her mild eyes, saying: "It would be a sin, indeed, if you did not know your lesson early tomorrow morning! You helped me, and now I will help you, and the Almighty will always befriend you."
And the book began to move about like a live thing under Tuk's bolster.
"Cluck! cluck! cluck!" said a hen, creeping out of it, "I am a Kiöge hen." And then she told all about the little town of Kiöge, how many inhabitants it numbered; besides relating the battle that had taken place there between the English and the Danes, though it was scarcely worth mentioning.
Scratch! scratch! and down fell something with a heavy lump! It was a wooden bird,—the popinjay used as a shooting-mark at Prästöe. He had reckoned that the number of its inhabitants was equal to the nails in his body; so he was very proud. "Thorwaldsen lived close to me," said he; "and—lump!—here am I, all safe and sound!"
And now Little Tuk ceased to be lying down, and found himself on a horse.
Gallop! gallop! Away he went. A richly dressed warrior in a helmet with waving plume, held him before him on his horse, and they rode through the wood to the old city of Vordingborg; and a large, animated town it was: stately turrets surmounted the royal castle, and lights gleamed from all its windows; the sounds of music and dancing were heard from within, and King Waldemar was dancing with the richly-attired young ladies of his court.
Morning now dawned, and, with the rising sun, the whole town and the royal castle sank to ruins—one turret falling after another, till only one remained standing on the hill where the castle formerly reared its head; and the town had shrunk to such poverty and insignificance, that the ​schoolboys came with their books under their arms, saying: "Two thousand inhabitants"; and even this was a boast, for there were not anything like so many.
And Little Tuk lay in his bed; he seemed to be dreaming, and yet not dreaming. But some one seemed close by him.
"Little Tukky! Little Tukky!" said a voice that proceeded from a seaman, quite a little fellow, no bigger than a middy, though he was not one—"I bring you greetings from Corsör. It is a rising town, and a very lively one, possessing both steamers and stage coaches. People used to call it an ugly and tiresome place; because, formerly, travellers had to wait in its port for a favourable wind, before the introduction of steamers; but now, it no longer deserves such an epithet.
"'I am situated on the coast,' said Corsör, 'but I have roads, and pleasure-gardens; and I have given birth to a poet, both witty and entertaining, which all are not. I once formed the pro-
* AND TUK RAN OFF AND HELPED HER.
ject of fitting out a ship to sail round the world, but I did not carry it out, though I could have done so; and besides all the rest, I am fragrant with perfume; for the loveliest roses bloom outside my gates.'"
Little Tuk looked before him, and saw a mass of red and green; but when the confusion of colours had somewhat .subsided, he perceived it was a cliff, near the bay, all overgrown with roses; at the top of which towered a fine old church with a couple of high Gothic turrets. Large streams of water sprang from the cliff, and close by sat an aged king with a gold crown on his white hair; this was King Hroar-o'-the-Streams, near which stands the town of Roeskilde, as it is now called. And all the kings and queens of Denmark, with all their gold crowns on their heads, went hand-in-hand into the old church, while the organ was playing, and the streams were flowing. For nearly all the sovereigns of Denmark lie buried in this beautiful church.
Little Tuk saw and heard everything that was passing. "Do not forget the provinces," said King Hroar.
Then all vanished—though where it went to, he knew not; but it was just as if the leaf of a book had been turned over.
And now there stood before him an old peasant woman, from Soröe, a quiet little town, where grass grows in the market-place. Her head and shoulders were covered with a gray linen apron that was as wet as if it had been drenched by the rain.
"And so it has," said she. And she told a great many interesting things, from Holberg's comedies, and about Waldemar and Absalon. For Holberg had founded a military academy in her native town.
On a sudden, however, she shrivelled up, and wagged her head as if she were going to take a leap. "Croak!" quoth she, "it is wet—it is wet; and it is as comfortably still as the grave in Soröe." And she at once became a frog. "Croak!" cried she, and again she changed to an old woman.
"One must dress according to the weather," said she. "It is wet—it is wet. My native place is like a bottle—one must come in at the corking, and go out at the corking. Formerly we had the finest fish; and now we have healthy, rosy-cheeked brats at the bottom of the bottle, and they learn philosophy, Greek and Hebrew. Croak!"
It sounded exactly as if frogs were squeaking, or as if somebody was walking over a swamp with heavy boots; her tone was so monotonous and so tiresome, that Little Tukky fell fast asleep, which was the best thing for him.
​But even in this sleep there came a dream, or whatever else it may be called. His little sister Gustave, with her blue eyes and flaxen ringlets, had suddenly grown into a tall and beautiful girl,
LARGE STREAMS OF WATER SPRANG FROM THE CLIFF, AND CLOSE BY SAT AN AGED KING WITH A GOLDEN CROWN ON HIS WHITE HAIR.
who could fly, though she had no wings; and they now flew over Zealand, and over the green forests, and across the blue sea.
​"Do you hear the cock crowing, Little Tukky? Cock-a-doodle-doo! The hens are flying hither from Kiöge! And you shall have a farmyard, such a large one too! you shall never know hunger nor want! And the golden goose shall be yours, and you shall become a rich and happy man. Your house shall rise like King Waldemar's tower, and be richly adorned with marble pillars, like those that come from Prästoe. You understand me. Your name shall travel round the earth like the ship that was to sail from Corsor, and in Roeskilde—"
"Do not forget the provinces!" said King Hroar—"and there will you speak wisely and well. Little Tukky; and when at length you sink into your grave, you will sleep in peace—"
"As if I lay in Soröe," interrupted Tuk, and then he awoke.
It was a bright morning, and he could not recollect his dream. But it was not necessary he should; for one has no need of knowing that which one will live to see.
And he now jumped out of bed, and read his book, and immediately knew his whole lesson by heart.
And the old washerwoman popped her head in at the door, and said with a friendly nod: "Thank you, my good boy for your kind help. May the Lord fulfil your brightest dreams!"
Little Tukky no longer knew what he had dreamt; but the Almighty did.