the windmill-第1部分

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　FAIRY　TALES　OF　HANS　CHRISTIAN　ANDERSEN

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　WINDMILL

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　by　Hans　Christian　Andersen



　　　　A　WINDMILL　stood　upon　the　hill；　proud　to　look　at；　and　it　was　proud

too。

　　　　〃I　am　not　proud　at　all；〃　it　said；　〃but　I　am　very　much

enlightened　without　and　within。　I　have　sun　and　moon　for　my　outward

use；　and　for　inward　use　too；　and　into　the　bargain　I　have　stearine

candles；　train　oil　and　lamps；　and　tallow　candles。　I　may　well　say

that　I'm　enlightened。　I'm　a　thinking　being；　and　so　well　constructed

that　it's　quite　delightful。　I　have　a　good　windpipe　in　my　chest；　and

I　have　four　wings　that　are　placed　outside　my　head；　just　beneath　my

hat。　The　birds　have　only　two　wings；　and　are　obliged　to　carry　them　on

their　backs。　I　am　a　Dutchman　by　birth；　that　may　be　seen　by　my

figure…　a　flying　Dutchman。　They　are　considered　supernatural　beings；

I　know；　and　yet　I　am　quite　natural。　I　have　a　gallery　round　my　chest；

and　house…room　beneath　it；　that's　where　my　thoughts　dwell。　My

strongest　thought；　who　rules　and　reigns；　is　called　by　others　'The

Man　in　the　Mill。'　He　knows　what　he　wants；　and　is　lord　over　the　meal

and　the　bran；　but　he　has　his　companion；　too；　and　she　calls　herself

'Mother。'　She　is　the　very　heart　of　me。　She　does　not　run　about　stupidly

and　awkwardly；　for　she　knows　what　she　wants；　she　knows　what　she　can

do；　she's　as　soft　as　a　zephyr　and　as　strong　as　a　storm；　she　knows

how　to　begin　a　thing　carefully；　and　to　have　her　own　way。　She　is　my

soft　temper；　and　the　father　is　my　hard　one。　They　are　two；　and　yet　one；

they　each　call　the　other　'My　half。'　These　two　have　some　little　boys；

young　thoughts；　that　can　grow。　The　little　ones　keep　everything　in

order。　When；　lately；　in　my　wisdom；　I　let　the　father　and　the　boys

examine　my　throat　and　the　hole　in　my　chest；　to　see　what　was　going　on

there；…　for　something　in　me　was　out　of　order；　and　it's　well　to　examine

one's　self；…　the　little　ones　made　a　tremendous　noise。　The　youngest

jumped　up　into　my　hat；　and　shouted　so　there　that　it　tickled　me。　The

little　thoughts　may　grow…　I　know　that　very　well；　and　out　in　the

world　thoughts　come　too；　and　not　only　of　my　kind；　for　as　far　as　I

can　see；　I　cannot　discern　anything　like　myself；　but　the　wingless

houses；　whose　throats　make　no　noise；　have　thoughts　too；　and　these　come

to　my　thoughts；　and　make　love　to　them；　as　it　is　called。　It's　wonderful

enough…　yes；　there　are　many　wonderful　things。　Something　has　come

over　me；　or　into　me；…　something　has　changed　in　the　mill…work。　It　seems

as　if　the　one　half；　the　father；　had　altered；　and　had　received　a　better

temper　and　a　more　affectionate　helpmate…　so　young　and　good；　and　yet

the　same；　only　more　gentle　and　good　through　the　course　of　time。　What

was　bitter　has　passed　away；　and　the　whole　is　much　more　comfortable。

　　　　〃The　days　go　on；　and　the　days　come　nearer　and　nearer　to

clearness　and　to　joy；　and　then　a　day　will　come　when　it　will　be　over

with　me；　but　not　over　altogether。　I　must　be　pulled　down　that　I　may

be　built　up　again；　I　shall　cease；　but　yet　shall　live　on。　To　become

quite　a　different　being；　and　yet　remain　the　same！　That's　difficult　for

me　to　understand；　however　enlightened　I　may　be　with　sun；　moon；

stearine；　train　oil；　and　tallow。　My　old　wood…work　and　my　old

brick…work　will　rise　again　from　the　dust！

　　　　〃I　will　hope　that　I　may　keep　my　old　thoughts；　the　father　in　the

mill；　and　the　mother；　great　ones　and　little　ones…　the　family；　for　I

call　them　all；　great　and　little；　the　company　of　thoughts；　because　I

must；　and　cannot　refrain　from　it。

　　　　〃And　I　must　also　remain　'myself；'　with　my　throat　in　my　chest；　my

wings　on　my　head；　the　gallery　round　my　body；　else　I　should　not　know

myself；　nor　could　the　others　know　me；　and　say；　'There's　the　mill　on

the　hill；　proud　to　look　at；　and　yet　not　proud　at　all。'〃

　　　　That　is　what　the　mill　said。　Indeed；　it　said　much　more；　but　that　is

the　most　important　part。

　　　　And　the　days　came；　and　the　days　went；　and　yesterday　was　the　last

day。

　　　　Then　the　mill　caught　fire。　The　flames　rose　up　high；　and　beat　out

and　in；　and　bit　at　the　beams　and　planks；　and　ate　them　up。　The　mill

fell；　and　nothing　remained　of　it　but　a　heap　of　ashes。　The　smoke

drove　across　the　scene　of　the　conflagration；　and　the　wind　carried　it

away。

　　　　Whatever　had　been　alive　in　the　mill　remained；　and　what　had　been

gained　by　it　has　nothing　to　do　with　this　story。

　　　　The　miller's　family…　one　soul；　many　thoughts；　and　yet　only　one…

built　a　new；　a　splendid　mill；　which　answered　its　purpose。　It　was　quite

like　the　old　one；　and　people　said；　〃Why；　yonder　is　the　mill　on　the

hill；　proud　to　look　at！〃　But　this　mill　was　better　arranged；　more

according　to　the　time　than　the　last；　so　that　progress　might　be　made。

The　old　beams　had　become　worm…eaten　and　spongy…　they　lay　in　dust　and

ashes。　The　body　of　the　mill　did　not　rise　out　of　the　dust　as　they　had

believed　it　would　do。　They　had　taken　it　literally；　and　all　things

are　not　to　be　taken　literally。





　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　END

。