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THE MICE WERE NEAR TREADING EACH OTHER TO DEATH.
“Will you have the goodness to sit in your mamma’s thimble?” said the little mouse, “and then I shall have the honour to draw you.”
“Dear me! will you take all that trouble yourself, madam?” said Hjalmar. And away they went to the mouse’s wedding.
First of all they descended beneath the floor into a long passage that was only just high enough to admit of their driving through it with the thimble. The whole passage was lit up with phosphorescent wood.
“Does it not smell nice here?” asked the mouse that drew him. “The whole passage is smeared with rinds of bacon. Nothing can be more delicious.”
They now came into the room where the wedding party was assembled. On the right side stood all the lady mice, who were whispering and gossiping, as if they were making game of each other. To the left stood the gentlemen mice, stroking their moustaches with their paws; and in the middle of the room were seen the bridal pair standing side by side in a scooped-out cheese-rind, and kissing each other most heartily before all the company, for they were betrothed, and were just about to be married.
More and more strangers kept arriving; the mice were near treading each other to death; and the bridal pair had placed themselves in the doorway, so that it was impossible to go in or to come out. The room had been daubed over with rinds of bacon like the passage, and that was all the refreshment offered to the guests; but at dessert they brought out a pea in which a mouse belonging to the family had bitten the name of the bride and bridegroom—that is to say, the first letter of their name. And this was something quite extraordinary.
All the mice declared that it was a very grand wedding, and that the entertainment had been very agreeable.
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Hjalmar then went home. He had certainly been into very genteel society; but then, on the other hand, he had been obliged to creep into a little hole, and make himself small, and put on the uniform of the lead soldier.
Friday
T is wonderful how many persons more advanced in years would like to have me come to them!” said Olé Luk-Oie, “especially those who have done bad actions. ‘Dear little Olé,’ say they, ‘we cannot get a wink of sleep, and we lie the whole night long looking at all our wicked deeds that are sitting like so many ugly little kobolds on our bed, sprinkling hot water over us; do come and drive them away, that we may have a good night’s rest.’ And then they sigh so heavily. ‘We would gladly pay you handsomely! Good night, Olé; the money lies on the window-seat.’ But I wouldn’t do it for money,” added Olé Luk-Oie.
“What shall we do to-night?” asked Hjalmar.
“Why, I don’t know whether you’ll care to go to another wedding to-night, though it is a different one from yesterday’s. Your sister’s large doll that looks like a man, and is called Hermann, is going to marry the doll Bertha. It is, moreover, the doll’s birthday, and so they will receive a great many presents.”
“Yes, I know,” said Hjalmar. “Whenever the dolls wants new clothes, my sister is sure to celebrate their birthday or their wedding. This happened, at least, a hundred times.”
