卖火柴的的小女孩（原著版）

hillson

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL
Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and
evening-- the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went
along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When
she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that?
They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so
large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away
across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.
One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of
by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a
cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the
little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and
blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she
held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the
whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.
She crept along trembling with cold and hunger--a very picture of
sorrow, the poor little thing!
The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful
curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought.
From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so
deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of
that she thought.
In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than
the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she
had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home
she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a
farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at
home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which
the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up withstraw and rags.
Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might
afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the
bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one
out. "Rischt!" how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame,
like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It
seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large
iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire
burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little
girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but--the small
flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burntout
match in her hand.
She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the
light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that
she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white
tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose
was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And
what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from
the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it
came up to the poor little girl; when--the match went out and nothing but
the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted another match.
Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it
was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen
through the glass door in the rich merchant's house.
Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gailycolored
pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down
upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when--
the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher,
she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long
trail of fire.
"Someone is just dead!" said the little girl; for her old grandmother, the
only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her,that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.
She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the
lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and
with such an expression of love.
"Grandmother!" cried the little one. "Oh, take me with you! You go
away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the
delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!" And she
rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she
wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the
matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day:
never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took
the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so
high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor
anxiety--they were with God.
But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy
cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall--frozen to death
on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with
her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. "She wanted to warm
herself," people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful
things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with
her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.

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