THE wind moans in the old willow tree!
It is as if one heard a song;the wind sings it,thetree tells it.If you don't understand it,then ask Johannain the almshouse;she knows,she was born here in thedistrict.
Years ago,when the highway still lay here,the treewas already big and remarkable.It stood where it yetstands,outside the tailor's whitened framework house, close to the pool,which at that time was so big that thecattle were watered there,and there in the warm summerthe little children ran about naked and splashed about inthe water.Close up under the tree was a milestone;it hasfallen down now,and bramble branches grow over it.
On the other side of the rich squire's farm the newhigh road was made,the old road became the field road, the pool a puddle,over－grown with duck－weed;when afrog jumped down,the green was separated and one sawthe black water;round about it grew,and still grow,thebuck－bean and gold irises.
The tailor's house became old and crooked,the roofa hot－bed for moss and house-leek;the dove－cote fell inand the starlings built there,the swallows hung nest afternest on the gable of the house and under the roof,just as ifit was a lucky dwelling－place.That was here at one time; now it has become lonely and silent.Alone and weak- willed,"Poor Rasmus",as they called him,lived here;hehad been born here,he had played here,he had sprungover the fields and the hedges,splashed as a little child inthe open pool,clambered up in the old tree.
It lifted its great branches with pomp and beauty,asit lifts them still,but the storm had already twisted thetrunk a little,and time had given it a crack;now wind andweather have laid earth in the crack,where grass and greenthings grow,yes,even a little rowan tree has planted itselfthere.
When the swallows came in the spring,they flewabout the tree and the roof,they plastered and mendedtheir old nests,but poor Rasmus let his nest stand andfall as it liked;he neither mended nor propped it."Whatis the use!"was his adage,and it was also his father's.
He remained in his home,the swallows flew awayfrom it,but they came again,the faithful creatures.Thestarling flew away,but it came again and whistled itssong;once Rasmus knew how to whistle in competitionwith it;now he neither whistled nor sang.
The wind moaned in the old willow tree—it stillmoans,it is as if one heard a song;the wind sings it,thetree tells it;if you do not understand it,then ask old Jo－hanna in the almshouse;she knows,she is wise in old af- fairs,she is like a chronicle book,with legends and oldmemories.
When the house was new and good,the village tailorIvar Olse moved into it with his wife Maren;respectable, industrious people,both of them.Old Johanna was at thattime a child,she was the daughter of the maker of wood-en shoes,one of the poorest in the neighbourhood.Manya nice piece of bread and butter she got from Maren,whohad no lack of food.Maren stood well with the squire'swife;she was always laughing and glad,she never al－lowed herself to be disheartened,she used her tongue, but also her hands;she wielded her needle as well as hertongue,and looked after her house and her children; there were eleven of them.
"Poor people have always a nest full of youngones!"grumbled the squire;"if one could drown themlike kittens,and only keep one or two of the strongest,there would be less misfortune!"
"God bless me!"said the tailor's wife,"childrenare a blessing of God;they are a joy in the house,eachchild is another Lord's Prayer!if things are straitened,and one has many mouths to feed,then one strives all theharder,finds ways and means in all respectability.OurFather does not let go,if we do not let go!"
The squire's lady gave her her countenance,bowedin a friendly way,and patted Maren on the cheek:shehad done that many times,even kissed her,but that waswhen she was little,and Maren her nurse-maid.Theyhad thought much of each other,and still did so.
Every year at Christmas,came winter supplies fromthe big house to the tailor's house;a barrel of milk,apig,two geese,a stone of butter,cheese and apples.Itwas a help to the larder.Ivar Olse looked quite contentedthen,but soon came his old adage,"what is the use!"
Everything was clean and neat in the house,curtainsat the windows,and flowers,both carnations and balsams. A sampler hung in a picture frame,and close beside it acomposition in rhyme:Maren Olse herself had composed it; she knew how rhymes ought to go.She was almost a littleproud of the family name"Olse".It was the only word inthe Danish language that rhymed with"Polse"(sausage)."That is always something in which one is superior to otherpeople,"she said,and laughed.She always kept her goodhumour,and never said like her husband,"What is theuse!"Her adage was,"Hold to yourself and our Father!"She did that,and it kept everything together.The childrenthrove,grew too big for the nest,went far,and behavedthemselves well.Rasmus was the youngest;he was such alovely child,and one of the great artists in the town bor－rowed him for a model,and that as naked as when he cameinto this world.The picture hung now in the king'spalace,where the squire's lady had seen it and recognizedlittle Rasmus,although he had no clothes on.
But now bad times came.The tailor had pains,gotrheumatism in both hands,great knots came into them,and no doctor could help him,not even the wise Stine who"doctored".
"One must not be disheartened!"said Maren."It isno use to hang the head!now that we no longer have fa－ther's two hands to help,I must see about using mine thequicker.Little Rasmus also can use the needle!"
He already sat on the board,whistling and singing;he was a happy boy.
The mother said that he must not sit there all day;itwas a sin against the child;he must also run about andplay.
The shoemaker's little Johanna was his best playmateshe belonged to still poorer people than Rasmus.She wasnot beautiful;she was barelegged;her clothes hung intatters,she had no one to look after them,and it neveroccurred to her to do it herself;she was a child,and asglad as a bird in our Lord's sunshine.
Rasmus and Johanna played beside the milestoneand the big willow tree.
He had high thoughts;he meant to be a fine tailorsome day and live in the town,where there were masterswho had ten men on the board;he had heard that fromhis father;there he would be a man,and there he wouldbe a master,and then Johanna could come and visit him,and if she knew how to cook,she could make the food forthem all and have her own big room.
Johanna dared not really believe this,but Rasmusbelieved that it really would happen.So they sat underthe old tree and the wind moaned in the leaves and thebranches:it was as if the wind sang and the tree spoke.
In the autumn every single leaf fell and the raindripped from the bare branches.
"They will grow green again!"said Mother Olse.
"What is the use!"said the man."New year,newcare for a living!"
"The larder is full!"said the wife."We have tothank our good lady for that.I am healthy and have goodstrength.It is sinful of us to complain!"
The squire's family were at their country home forChristmas,but the week after the New Year they went totown,where they spent the winter in enjoying themselves:they went to ball and festivals with the king himself.
The lady had got two expensive dresses from France;they were of such stuff,and such cut and sewing that thetailor's Maren had never seen the like before.She askedthe lady if she might come up to the house and bring herhusband also,to see the dresses.Such things had neverbeen seen by a country tailor.
He saw them and had never a word to say,before hecame home,and what he said,was only what he alwayssaid,"What is the use!"and this time his word was true.
The family went to town;balls and parties had be－gun there,but in the midst of the enjoyment the squiredied,and the lady could not wear the lovely dresses.She was so sorrowful,and dressed from head to foot inblack mourning clothes;not so much as a white strip wasto be seen;all the servants were in black,even the statecoach was draped with fine black cloth.
It was a bitter,frosty night,the snow glittered andthe stars shone.The heavy gun－carriage came from thetown with the body to the private chapel,where it was tobe placed in the family vault.The steward and the parishbeadle sat on horseback with torches before the churchyardgate.The church was lighted up,and the priest stood inthe open church door to receive the body.The coffin wascarried up into the choir and all the people followed it.Thepriest made a speech and a psalm was sung.The lady wasin the church,she had driven there in the black－drapedstate carriage;it was black inside and out,and the likehad never been seen in the district before.
They talked the whole winter about the squire'sfuneral.
"One saw there what this man signified!"said thecountry people."He was nobly born and he was noblyburied!"
"What is the use of that!"said the tailor."Nowhe has neither life nor property.We have still one ofthese!"
"Don't say such things!"said Maren,"he
has everlasting life in the heavenly kingdom!"
"Who has told you that,Maren?"said the tailor."Dead men are good manure!but this man was too superiorto make profit to the earth,he must lie in a chapel vault!"
"Don't talk so unChristian－like!"said Maren."I tellyou again,he has everlasting life!"
"Who has told you that,Maren?"repeated the tailor.And Maren threw her apron over little Rasmus so that hemight not hear the conversation.She carried him over tothe turf-house and wept.
"The talk you heard over there,little Rasmus,wasnot your father's;it was the wicked one who wentthrough the room,and took your father's voice!Say'OurFather'.We will both say it!"She folded the child'shands.
"Now I am glad again!"she said;"hold fast byyourself and our Father!"
The year of mourning was ended,the widow wasdressed in half-mourning,and she was quite light－heart－ed.There were rumours that she had a wooer and alreadythought of a second marriage.Maren knew something ofit,and the priest knew a little more.
On Palm Sunday,after the service,the banns werepublished for the marriage of the widow and her be－trothed.He was a sculptor,the name of his occupationwas not well known;at that time Thorwaldsen and his artwere not yet in the mouths of the people.The new squirewas not of noble birth,but yet a very splendid man;hewas one who was something no one understood,they said;he carved statues,was clever in his work,young andgood－looking.
"What use is that!"said the tailor Olse.
On Palm Sunday the banns were published from thepulpit,and then followed psalm-singing and communion.The tailor,his wife,and little Rasmus were in thechurch;the parents went to the communion,Rasmus satin the pew—he was not confirmed yet.There had been alack of clothes lately in the tailor's house.The old onesthey had,had been turned again and again,sewed andpatched;now all three were in new clothes,but black,asif for a funeral;they were dressed in the covering fromthe mourning-coach.The man had got a coat and trousersfrom it,Maren a high-necked dress,and Rasmus a wholesuit to grow in till his confirmation.Both the inside andoutside covering of the mourning－coach had been used.No one need know what it had been used for before,butpeople got to know it very quickly;the wise woman Stine,and others just as wise,who did not live by their wisdom,said that the clothes would bring sickness into the house."One dares not dress oneself in the trappings of a hearseexcept to drive to the grave."
The shoemaker's Johanna wept when she heard thattalk;and when it happened that the tailor grew worsefrom day to day,it would assuredly appear who was to bethe victim.
And it showed itself.
The first Sunday after Trinity,tailor Olse died,andnow Maren was alone to keep the whole thing together;sheheld to that,to herself,and to our Father.
The following year Rasmus was confirmed;then hewent to town as apprentice to a big tailor,not with twelvemen on the board,but with one:little Rasmus could becounted as a half:he was glad looked contented,but
little Johanna wept;she thought more of him,than sheherself knew.The tailor's wife remained in the old houseand carried on the business.
It was just at that time that the new high road wasopened;the old one,past the willow tree and the tailor'shouse,became the field way,the pond became overgrown, duck－weed covered the little pool of water that remained, the milestone fell down—it had nothing to stand up for,—but the tree held itself up,strong and beautiful;the windwhistled in the leaves and branches.The swallows flewaway,the starlings flew away,but they came again in thespring,and when they came back for the fourth time,Ras-mus came back to his home.He had finished his appren－ticeship,was a good－looking but slender young fellow;nowhe would tie up his knapsack and go to see foreign lands;his mind was bent on that.But his mother hung on to him; home was best!all the other children were scattered,hewas the youngest,the house should be his.He could getplenty of work if he would stay in the district and be atravelling tailor,sew fourteen days at one farm,and four-teen days at another.That was also travelling.And Rasmusfollowed his mother's advice.So he slept again under theroof of his birthplace,and sat again under the old willowtree,and heard it moan.
He was good－looking,and could whistle like a bird,and sing both new and old songs.He was in favour at allthe big farms,particularly at Klaus Hansen's,who was thesecond richest farmer in the district.
His daughter Elsie was like the loveliest flower,andshe was always laughing;there were people who were soill－natured as to say that she only laughed to show her pret－ty teeth.
She was ready to laugh,and always in the humour toplay pranks.
They fell in love with each other,but neither ofthem said it in so many words.
So he went about and became heavy－hearted;he hadmore of his father's than his mother's disposition.Thehumour only came when Elsie came,then they bothlaughed,joked,and played tricks,but although therewas good opportunity,he said never a word of his love."What is the use!"was his thought."Her parents lookfor riches for her,and that I have not got;it were wisestto go away from here!"But he could not go away from thefarm;it was as if Elsie had bound him with a thread:hewas like a trained bird for her,he sang and whistled forher pleasure and after her will.
Johanna,the shoemaker's daughter,was servant onthe farm there,engaged in menial work;she drove themilk－cart out to the field,where she,with the othergirls,milked the cows;she had even to drive the manurewhen that was wanted.She never went up to the bigroom,and so did not see much of Rasmus or Elsie,butshe heard that they were as good as engaged.
"Rasmus comes into prosperity,"said she,"I can－not grudge him that!"And her eyes became wet,althoughthere was nothing to cry for.
It was market day in town.Klaus Hansen drove intoit and Rasmus was with him;he sat by the side of Elsieboth going and coming.He was overwhelmed with love,but said never a word about it.
"He might say something to me about the thing!"thought the girl,and she was right."If he will not speak,then I will give him a fright!"
And soon people were saying on the farm that therichest farmer in the neighbourhood had made love toElsie,and so he had,but no one knew what answer shehad given him.
Thoughts buzzed about in Rasmus's head.
One evening Elsie put a gold ring on her finger andasked Rasmus what it meant.
"Engagement,"said he.
"And witn whom,do you think?"asked she.
"With the rich farmer,"said he.
"You have hit it!"said she,nodded,and slippedaway.
But he also slipped away,came home to his mother'shouse like a madman,and packed his knapsack.Outinto the wide world would he go;his mother wept,but itwas of no use.He cut himself a stick from the old wil－low,he whistled as if he were in a good humour,he wasgoing out to see the grandeur of the world.
"It is a great trial for me!"said the mother."Butfor you it is,no doubt,the beat thing to go away,andso I must just submit to it.Hold to yourself and ourLord,and so I will get you home glad and contentedagain!"
He went by the new high road,and there he sawJohanna driving a load of manure.She had not noticedhim,and he did not want her to see him,so he sat him－self behind the hedge,and hid there—and Johannadrove past.
Out into the world he went,and no one knew
where;his mother thought he would come home againbefore the year was finished:"He has now somethingnew to see and to think about,but he will get back intothe old folds again,which cannot be ironed out with anypressing-iron.He has a little too much of his father'sdisposition.I would rather he had mine,the poor child!but he will come home,he cannot give the old houseand me the slip."
The mother would wait a year and a day;Elsiewaited only a month,then she went secretly to the wisewoman Stine,who could"doctor",read fortunes in
cards and coffee,and knew more than her Lord's
Prayer.She knew also where Rasmas was.She couldread that in the coffee－grounds.He was in a foreigntown,but she could not read the name of it.There werein that town soldiers and girls.He thought either of tak- ing a musket or one of the girls.
Elsie could not bear to hear that.She would will－ingly give her savings to buy him off,but no one mustknow that she had done it.
And old Stine promised that he would come back;she knew an art,a dangerous art for the person con－cerned,but it was the last resource.She would set thepot on to boil for him,and then he must come away fromthe place where he happened to be;he must come home,where!the pot boiled and his dearest one waited:monthsmight pass before he came,but come he must,if therewas life in him.
Without resting,night and day he must travel,overlake and mountain,be the weather mild or hard,howevertired he was.He should come home,he must come
home.
The moon was in the first quarter;it must be so forthe exercise of that art,said old Stine.It was stormyweather,the old willow tree cracked:Stine cut off atwig,and tied it into a knot,it would help to draw Ras- mus home to his mother's house.Moss and house-leekwere taken from the roof of the house,put into the pot,which was set on the fire.Elsie must now tear a leaf outof a psalm－book;she accidentally tore out the last one,the one with the list of misprints."It will do quite aswell!"said Stine,and threw it in the pot.
Many kinds of things must go into the gruel,whichmust boil and constantly boil until Rasmus came home.The black cock in Stine's room must lose its red comb,itwas put in the pot.Elsie's thick gold ring must also goin,and she would never get it again,Stine told her be－forehand.Stine was so wise.Many things which we donot know the names of went into the pot;it stood con－stantly on the fire,or on glowing embers,or hot ashes.Only she and Elsie knew about it.
The moon waxed and waned;and always Elsie cameand asked,"Do you not see him coming?"
"Much I know,"said Stine,"and much I see,butthe length of the way for him I cannot see.Now he is overthe first mountain!now he is on the sea in bad weather!The way is long through the great woods,he has blisterson his feet,he has fever in his body,but he must goon!"
"NO!no!"said Elsie,"I am sorry for him!"
"He cannot be stopped now!for if we do that hewill drop dead on the highway!"
A year and a day had gone.The moon shone roundand big,the wind moaned in the old tree,a rainbow inthe moonshine was seen in the sky.
"That is the sign of confirmation!"said Stine."NowRasmus is coming."
But he came not.
"The waiting-time is long!"said Stine.
"Now I am tired of it!"said Elsie.She came less of-ten to Stine and brought her no new gifts.Her heart be-came lighter,and one fine morning everybody in the neigh－bourhood knew that Elsie had said"Yes"to richestfarmer.
She went to look at the farm and the fields,the cattleand the furniture.Everything was in good order,there wasnothing to delay the wedding for.
It was held with great festivity for three days.Therewas dancing to flute and violin.Every one in the neigh－bourhood was invited.Mother Olse was there also;andwhen the gaiety was at an end,and the guests had said"Thanks",and the musicians had gone,she went homewith the remnants of the feast.
She had only fastened the door with a pin;that wastaken off,the door stood open,and there stood Rasmus.He had come home,come at this hour.Lord,how he
looked!skin and bone only,pale and yellow was he!
"Rasmus!"said the mother,"is it you, I see?Howpoorly you look!but I am glad in my heart that I haveyou!"
And she gave him of the good food she had broughthome from the feast—a piece of steak,and a wedding tart.
He had,in these last days,he said,thought often ofhis mother,his homestead,and the old willow tree.It waswonderful how often in his dreams he had seen the tree andthe barelegged Johanna.Elsie he did not even name.Hewas ill and must go to bed;but we do not believe that thepot was the cause of this,or that it had exercised any pow－er over him;only old Stine anb Elsie believed that,butthey spoke to no one about it.
Rasmus lay in a fever;it was infectious,so no onesought the tailor's house except Johanna,the shoemaker'sdaughter.She wept to see how miserable Rasmus was.
The doctor wrote out a prescription for him;he wouldnot take the medicine,"What is the use?"said he.
"Yes,then you will be yourself again,"said themother."Hold fast to yourself and our Lord!If I couldonly see you put on flesh again,hear you whistle andsing,I would willingly lay down my life."
And Rasmus got better of his illness,but his mothertook it;our Lord called her and not him.
It was lonely in the house,and it grew poorer."Heis worn out,"said the neighbours."Poor Rasmus!"A wildlife had he led on his travels,that,and not the blackpot which boiled,had sapped his strength and givenhim unrest in his body.His hair became thin andgrey;he did not care to do anything properly.
"What good can that do?"said he.He sought thepublic house rather than the church.
One autumn evening,in wind and rain,he strug－gled along the dirty road from the public house to hishome:his mother had long ago been laid in her grave.The swallows and the starling had also gone,the faith－ful creatures;Johanna the shoemaker's daughter hadnot gone;she overtook him on the way and accompa－nied him a little bit.
"Pull yourself together,Rasmus!"
"What good can that do?"said he.
"That is a bad motto you have!"said she."Re－member your mother's word:'Hold to yourself and ourLord!'You don't do that,Rasmus!that one ought,and that one shall.Never say'What good can thatdo?'for then you pull up the root of all your actions."
She accompanied him to the door of his house,and there she left him.He did not stay inside,butwent and sat himself on part of the fallen nilestone.
The wind moaned in the branches of the tree,itwas like a song,it was like a talk.Rasmus answeredit;he talked aloud,but no one heard it,except thetree and the moaning wind.
"I am getting cold!It is time to go to bed.Sleep!sleep!"
And he went,not towards the house but to thepool,where he stumbled and fell.The rain poureddown,the wind was icy cold,but he did not notice it:but when the sun rose,and the crows flew over thepool,he wakened,half－dead.If he had laid his headwhere his feet lay,he would never have got up again,the green duck－weed would have been his shroud.
Later in the day Johanna came to the tailor's house;she was his help;she got him taken to the hospital.
"We have known each other from childhood,"saidshe;"your mother has given me both meat and drink,I can never repay her for it!You will get your health again,you will be able to live yet."
And our Lord willed it that he should live,but it wasup and down with the health and the mind.The swallowsand the starlings came and went and came again;Rasmusbecame old before his time.Lonely he sat in the house, which became more and more dilapidated.He was poor, poorer now than Johanna.
"You have no faith,"said she,"and if we have notour Lord,what have we?You should go to communion! you have not been there since your confirmation."
"Well,what good can that do?"said he.
"If you say that and believe it,so let it be!Unwillingguests the Lord will not see at His Table.Think,however,of your mother and your childhood's days!You were atthat time a good,God－fearing boy.May I read a psalm foryou?"
"What good can that do?"said he.
"It always comforts me,"said she.
"Johanna,you have become one of the holy ones!"and he looked at her with heavy,tired eyes.And Johannaread the psalm,but not from the book—she did not haveone,she knew it by heart.
"Those were beautiful words,"said he,"but I couldnot quite follow.It is so heavy in my head!"
Rasmus had become an old man,but Elsie was nolonger young either,if we are to mention her;Rasmus nev－er did.She was a grandmother;a little flippant girl washer grandchild,the little one played with the other childrenin the village.Rasmus came,leaning on his stick;hestood still,looked at the children's play,smiled to them,old times shone into his thoughts.Elsie's grandchild point－ed at him."Poor Rasmus!"she shouted;the other childrenfollowed her example and shouted"Poor Rasmus!"andfollowed the old man with shrieks.
It was a grey,heavy day,and several like it fol－lowed,but after grey and heavy days there comes a sun－shiny one.
It was a lovely Whitsuntide,the church was deco－rated with green birch branches,there was the smell ofthe woods,and the sun shone over the church pews.Thebig altar candles were lighted,it was communion;Johan－na was amongst those kneeling there,but Rasmus was notamongst them.Just that morning our Lord had calledhim.With God are compassion and mercy.
Many years have passed since then;the tailor'shouse stands there still,but no one lives there,it mayfall with the first storm.The pool is covered with reeds anbuck－bean.The wind moans in the old tree,it is as ifone heard a song;the wind sings it,the tree tells it;ifyou don't understand it,then ask old Johanna in the almshouse.
She lives there,she sings her psalm,the one shesang for Rasmus; she thinks of him,prays to our Lord forhim,the faithful soul that she is.She can tell about the past times,the memories,which moan in the old tree.
老约翰妮讲的故事
风儿在老柳树间呼啸。
这听起来像一支歌，风儿唱出它的调子，树儿讲出它的故事。如果你不懂得它的话，那么请你去问住在济贫院里的约翰妮吧。她知道，因为她是在这个区域里出生的。
多少年以前，当这地方还有一条公路的时候，这棵树已经很大、很引人注目了。它现在仍然立在那个老地方——在裁缝那座年久失修的木屋子外面，在那个水他的旁边。那时候池子很大，人们常到这儿来饮牛；在炎热的夏天，农家的孩子常常光着身子，在池子里拍来拍去。柳树底下有一个里程碑。它现在已经倒了，上面长满了黑莓子。
在一个富有的农人的农庄的另一边，现在筑起了一条新公路。那条老公路已经成了一条田埂，那个池子成了一个长满了浮萍的水坑。一个青蛙跳下去，浮萍就散开了，于是人们就可以看到黑色的死水。它的周围生长着一些香蒲、芦苇和金黄的鸢尾花，而且还在不断地增多。
裁缝的房子又旧又歪；它的屋顶是青苔和石莲花的温床。鸽房塌了，欧椋鸟筑起自己的窝来。山墙和屋顶下挂着的是一连串燕子窝，好像这儿是一块幸运的住所似的。
这是某个时候的情形；但是现在它是孤独和沉寂的。“孤独的、无能的、可怜的拉斯木斯”——大家这样叫他——住在这儿。他是在这儿出生的。他在这儿玩耍过，在这儿的田野和篱笆上跳跃过。他小时候在这个池子里拍过水，在这棵老树上爬过。
树上曾经长出过美丽的粗枝绿叶，它现在也仍然是这样。不过大风已经把它的躯干吹得有点儿弯了，而时间在它身上刻出了一道裂口。风把泥土吹到裂口里去。现在它里面长出了草和绿色植物。是的，它里面甚至还长出了一棵小山梨。
燕子在春天飞来，在树上和屋顶上盘旋，修补它们的旧窝。但是可怜的拉斯木斯却让自己的窝自生自灭；他既不修补它，也不扶持它。“那有什么用呢？”这就是他的格言，也是他父亲的格言。
他待在家里。燕子——忠诚的鸟儿——从这儿飞走了，又回到这儿来。欧椋鸟飞走了，但是也飞回来，唱着歌。有个时候，拉斯木斯也会唱，并且跟它比赛。现在他既不会唱，也不会吹口哨。
风儿在这棵老柳树上呼啸——它仍然在呼啸，这听起来像一支歌：风儿唱着它的调子，树儿讲着它的故事。如果你听不懂，可以去问住在济贫院里的约翰妮。她知道，她知道许多过去的事情，她像一本写满了传奇故事和回忆的记录。
当这是完好的新房子的时候——村里的裁缝依瓦尔·奥尔塞和他的妻子玛伦一起迁进去住过。他们是两个勤俭、诚实的人。年老的约翰妮那时还不过是一个孩子，她是这地区里一个最穷的人——一个木鞋匠的女儿。玛伦从来不短少饭吃；约翰妮从她那里得到过不少黄油面包。玛伦跟地主太太的关系很好，永远是满面笑容，一副高兴的样子。她从来不悲观。她的嘴很能干，手也很能干。她善于使针，正如她善于使嘴一样。她会料理家务，也会料理孩子——她一共有12个孩子，第12个已经不在了。
“穷人家老是有一大窝孩子！”地主发了牢骚。“如果他们能把孩子像小猫似地淹死，只留下一两个身体最强壮的，那么他们也就不至于穷困到这种地步了！”
“愿上帝保佑我！”裁缝的妻子说。“孩子是上帝送来的；他们是家庭的幸福；每一个孩子都是上帝送来的礼物！如果生活紧，吃饭的嘴巴多，一个人就更应该努力，更应该想尽办法，老实地活下去。只要我们自己不松劲，上帝一定会帮助我们的！”
地主的太太同意她这种看法，和善地对她点点头，摸摸玛伦的脸：这样的事情她做过许多次，甚至还吻过玛伦，不过这是她小时候的事，那时玛伦是她的奶妈。她们那时彼此都喜爱对方；她们现在仍然是这样。
每年圣诞节，总有些冬天的粮食从地主的公馆送到裁缝的家里来：一桶牛奶，一只猪，两只鹅，十多磅黄油，奶酪和苹果。这大大地改善了他们的伙食情况，依瓦尔·奥尔塞那时感到非常满意，不过他的那套老格言马上又来了：“这有什么用呢？”
他屋子里的一切东西，窗帘、荷兰石竹和风仙花，都是很干净和整齐的。画框里镶着一幅绣着名字的刺绣，它的旁边是一篇有韵的“情诗”。这是玛伦·奥尔塞自己写的。她知道诗应该怎样押韵。她对于自己的姓感到很骄傲，因为在丹麦文里，它和“包尔塞”（香肠）这个字是同韵的。“与众不同一些总是好的！”她说，同时大笑起来。她的心情老是很好，她从来不像她的丈夫那样，说：“有什么用呢？”她的格言是：“依靠自己，依靠上帝！”她照这个信念办事，把家庭维系在一起。孩子们茁壮成长，他们都长大了，家里盛不下了，就旅行到遥远的地方去，发展也不坏。拉斯木斯是最小的一个孩子。他是那么可爱，城里一个最伟大的艺术家曾经有一次请他去当模特儿。他那时什么衣服也没有穿，像他初生到这个世界上来的时候一样。这幅画现在挂在国王的宫殿里。地主的太太曾经在那儿看到过，而且还认得出小小的拉斯木斯，虽然他没有穿衣服。
可是现在困难的日子到来了。裁缝的两只手生了关节炎，而且长出了很大的瘤。医生一点办法也没有，甚至会“治病”的那位“半仙”斯娣妮也想不出办法来。
“不要害怕！”玛伦说。“垂头丧气是没有用的！现在爸爸的一双手既然没有用，那么我就要多使用我的一双手了。小拉斯木斯也可以使针了！”
他已经坐在案板旁边工作，一面吹着口哨，一面唱着歌。他是一个快乐的孩子。
妈妈说他不能老是整天坐着。这对于孩子是一桩罪过。他应该活动和玩耍。
他最好的玩伴是木鞋匠的那个小小的约翰妮。她家比拉斯木斯家更穷。她长得并不漂亮；她露着光腿，穿着破烂的衣服。没有谁来替她补，她自己也不会做。她是一个孩子，快乐得像我们上帝的阳光中的一只小鸟。
拉斯木斯和约翰妮在那个里程碑和大柳树旁边玩耍。
他有伟大的志向。他要做一个能干的裁缝，搬进城里去住——他听到爸爸说过，城里的老板能雇用十来个师傅。他想当一个伙计；将来再当一个老板。约翰妮可以来拜访他。如果她会做饭，她可以为大伙儿烧饭。他将给她一间大房间住。
约翰妮不敢相信这类事情。不过拉斯木斯相信这会成为事实。
他们这样坐在那棵老树底下，风在叶子和枝桠之间吹：风儿仿佛是在唱歌，树儿仿佛是在讲话。
在秋天，每片叶子都落下来了，雨点从光秃秃的枝子上滴下来。
“它会再变绿的！”奥尔塞妈妈说。
“有什么用呢？”丈夫说。“新的一年只会带来新的忧愁！”
“厨房里装满了食物呀！”妻子说。“为了这，我们要感谢我们的女主人。我很健康，精力旺盛，我们发牢骚是不对的！”
地主一家人住在乡下别墅里过圣诞节。可是在新年过后的那一周里，他们就搬进城里去了。他们在城里过冬，享受着愉快和幸福的生活：他们参加跳舞会，甚至还参加国王在场的宴会。
女主人从法国买来了两件华贵的时装。在质量、式样和缝制艺术方面讲，裁缝的妻子玛伦以前从来没有看到过这样漂亮的东西。她请求太太说，能不能把丈夫带到她家里来看看这两件衣服。她说，一个乡下裁缝从来没有机会看到这样的东西。
他看到了；在他回家以前，他什么意见也没有表示。他所说的只不过是老一套：“这有什么用呢？”这一次他说对了。
主人到了城里。跳舞和聚会已经开始了；不过在这种快乐的时候，老爷忽然死了。太太不能穿那样美丽的时装。她感到悲痛，她从头到脚都穿上了黑色的丧服；连一条白色的缎带都没有。所有的仆人也都穿上了黑衣。甚至他们的大马车也蒙上了黑色的细纱。
这是一个寒冷、冰冻的夜。雪发出晶莹的光，星星在眨眼。沉重的柩车装着尸体从城里开到家庭的教堂里来；尸体就要埋葬在家庭的墓窖里的。管家和教区的小吏骑在马上，拿着火把，在教堂门口守候。教堂的光照得很亮，牧师站在教堂敞开的门口迎接尸体。棺材被抬到唱诗班里去；所有的人都在后面跟着。牧师发表了一篇演说，大家唱了一首圣诗。太太也在教堂里；她是坐在蒙着黑纱的轿车里来的。它的里里外外全是一片黑色；人们在这个教区里从来没有看见过这样的情景。
整个冬天大家都在谈论着这位老爷的葬礼。［“这才算得是一位老爷的入葬啊。”］“人们可以看出这个人是多么重要！”教区的人说。“他生出来很高贵，埋葬时也很高贵！”
“这又有什么用呢？”裁缝说。“他现在既没有了生命，也没有了财产。这两样东西中我们起码还有一样！”
“请不要这样讲吧！”玛伦说，“他在天国里永远是有生命的！”
“谁告诉你这话，玛伦？”裁缝说。“死尸只不过是很好的肥料罢了！不过这人太高贵了，连对泥土也没有什么用，所以只好让他躺在一个教堂的墓窖里！”
“不要说这种不信神的话吧！”玛伦说。“我再对你讲一次，他是会永生的！”
“谁告诉你这话，玛伦？”裁缝重复说。
玛伦把她的围裙包在小拉斯木斯头上，不让他听到这番话。
她哭起来，把他抱到柴草房里去。
“亲爱的拉斯木斯，你听到的话不是你爸爸讲的。那是一个魔鬼，在屋子里走过，借你爸爸的声音讲的！向上帝祷告吧。我们一起来祷告吧！”她把这孩子的手合起来。
“现在我放心了！”她说。“要依靠你自己，要依靠我们的上帝！”
一年的丧期结束了。寡妇现在只戴着半孝。她的心情很轻松。外面有些谣传，说她已经有了一个求婚者，并且想要再结婚。玛伦知道一点线索，而牧师知道的更多。
在棕枝主日那天，做完礼拜以后，寡妇和她的爱人的结婚预告就公布出来了。他是一个雕匠或一个刻匠，他的这行职业的名称还不大有人知道。在那个时候，多瓦尔生和他的艺术还不是每个人所谈论的题材。这个新的主人并不是出自望族，但他是一个非常高贵的人。大家说，他这个人不是一般人所能理解的。他雕刻出人像来，手艺非常巧；他是一个貌美的年轻人。
“这有什么用呢？”裁缝奥尔塞说。
在棕枝主日那天，结婚预告在牧师的讲道台上宣布出来了。接着大家就唱圣诗和领圣餐。裁缝和他的妻子和小拉斯木斯都在教堂里；爸爸和妈妈去领圣餐，拉斯木斯坐在座位上——他还没有受过坚信礼。裁缝的家里最近有一段时间没有衣服穿。他们所有的几件旧衣服已经被翻改过了好几次，补了又补。现在他们三个人都穿着新衣服，不过颜色都是黑的，好像他们要去送葬似的，因为这些衣服是用盖着柩车的那块黑布缝的。丈夫用它做了一件上衣和裤子，玛伦做了一件高领的袍子，拉斯木斯做了一套可以一直穿到受坚信礼时的衣服。柩车的盖布和里布他们全都利用了。谁也不必知道这布过去是做什么用的，不过人们很快就知道了。那个“半仙”斯娣妮和一些同样聪明、但不靠“道法”吃饭的人，都说这衣服会给这一家人带来灾害和疾病。“一个人除非是要走进坟墓，决不能穿蒙柩车的布的。”
木鞋匠家的约翰妮听到这话就哭起来。事有凑巧，从那天起，那个裁缝的情况变得一天不如一天，人们不难看出谁会倒霉。
事情摆得很明白的了。
在三一主日后的第一个礼拜天，裁缝奥尔塞死了。现在，只有玛伦一个人来维持这个家庭了。她坚持要这样做；她依靠自己，依靠我们的上帝。
第二年拉斯木斯受了坚信礼。这时他到城里去，跟一个大裁缝当学徒。这个裁缝的案板上没有12个伙计做活；他只有一个。而小小的拉斯木斯只算半个。他很高兴，很满意，不过小小的约翰妮哭起来了。她爱他的程度超过了她自己的想象。裁缝的未亡人留守在老家，继续做她的工作。
这时有一条新的公路开出来了。柳树和裁缝的房子旁边的那条公路，现在成了田埂；那个水池变成了一潭死水，长满了浮萍。那个里程碑也倒下来了——它现在什么也不能代表；不过那棵树还是活的，既强壮，又好看。风儿在它的叶子和枝桠中间发出萧萧声。
燕子飞走了，欧椋鸟也飞走了；不过它们在春天又飞回来。当它们在第四次飞回来的时候，拉斯木斯也回来了。他的学徒期已结束了。他虽然很瘦削，但是却是一个漂亮的年轻人。他现在想背上背包，到外国去旅行。这就是他心中所向往的。可是他的母亲留住他不放，家乡究竟是最好的地方呀！别的几个孩子都星散了，他是最年轻的，他应该待在家里。只要他留在这个区域里，他的工作一定会做不完。他可以成为一个流动的裁缝，在这个田庄里做两周，在那个田庄里留半个月就成。这也是旅行呀。拉斯木斯遵从了母亲的劝告。他又在他故乡的屋子里睡觉了，他又坐在那棵老柳树底下，听它呼啸。
他是一个外貌很好看的人。他能够像一个鸟儿似的吹口哨，唱出新的和旧的歌。他在所有的大田庄上都受到欢迎，特别是在克劳斯·汉生的田庄上。这人是这个区域里第二个富有的农夫。
他的女儿爱尔茜像一朵最可爱的鲜花。她老是笑着。有些不怀好意的人说，她笑是为了要露出美丽的牙齿。她随时都会笑，而且随时有心情开玩笑。这是她的性格。
她爱上了拉斯木斯，他也爱上了她。但是他们没有用语言表达出来。
事情就是这样；他心中变得沉重起来。他的性格很像父亲，而不大像母亲。只有当爱尔茜来的时候，他的心情才活跃起来。他们两人在一起笑，讲风趣话，开玩笑。不过，虽然适当的机会倒是不少，他却从来没有私下吐出一个字眼来表达他的爱情。“这有什么用呢？”他想。“你的父亲为她找有钱的人，而我没有钱。最好的办法是离开此地！”然而他不能从这个田庄离开，仿佛爱尔茜用一根线把他牵住了似的。在她面前他好像是一只受过训练的鸟儿：他为了她的快乐和遵照她的意志而唱歌，吹口哨。
木鞋匠的女儿约翰妮就在这个田庄上当佣人，做一些普通的粗活。她赶着奶车到田野里去，和别的女孩子们一起挤奶。在必要的时候，她还要运粪呢。她从来不走到大厅里去，因此也就不常看到拉斯木斯或爱尔茜，不过她听到别人说过，他们两人的关系几乎说得上是恋人。
“拉斯木斯真是运气好，”她说。“我不能怨恨他！”于是她的眼睛就湿润了，虽然她没有什么理由要哭。
这是城里赶集的日子。克劳斯·汉生驾着车子去赶集，拉斯木斯也跟他一道去。他坐在爱尔茜的身旁——去时和回来时都是一样。他深深地爱她，但是却一个字也不吐露出来。
“关于这件事，他可以对我表示一点意见呀！”这位姑娘想，而且她想得有道理。“如果他不开口的话，我就得吓他一下！”
不久农庄上就流传着一个谣言，说区里有一个最富有的农夫在向爱尔茜求爱。他的确表示过了，但是她对他作什么回答，暂时还没有谁知道。
拉斯木斯的思想里起了一阵波动。
有一天晚上，爱尔茜的手指上戴上了一个金戒指，同时她问拉斯木斯这是什么意思。
“订了婚！”他说。
“你知道跟谁订了婚吗？”她问。
“是不是跟一个有钱的农夫？”他说。
“你猜对了！”她说，点了一下头，于是就溜走了。
但是他也溜走了。他回到妈妈的家里来，像一个疯子。他打好背包，要向茫茫的世界走去。母亲哭起来，但是也没有办法。他从那棵老柳树上砍下一根手杖；他吹起口哨来，好像很高兴的样子。他要出去见见世面。
“这对于我是一件很难过的事情！”母亲说。“不过对于你说来，最好的办法当然是离开。所以我也只得听从你了。依靠你自己和我们的上帝吧，我希望再看到你的时候，你能快乐和高兴！”
他沿着新的公路走。他在这儿看见约翰妮赶着一大车粪。她没有注意到他，而他也不愿意被她看见，因此他就坐在一个篱笆的后面，躲藏起来。约翰妮赶着车子走过去了。
他向茫茫的世界走去。谁也不知道他走向什么地方。他的母亲以为他在年终以前就会回来的：“他现在有些新的东西要看，新的事情要考虑。但是他会回到旧路上来的，他不会把一切记忆都一笔勾销的。在气质方面，他太像他的父亲。可怜的孩子！我倒很希望他有我的性格呢。但是他会回家来的。他不会抛掉我和这间老屋子的。”
母亲等了许多年。爱尔茜只等了一个月。她偷偷地去拜访那个“半仙”——麦得的女儿斯娣妮。这个女人会“治病”，会用纸牌和咖啡算命，而且还会念《主祷文》和许多其他的东西。她还知道拉斯木斯在什么地方。这是她从咖啡的沉淀中看出来的。他住在一个外国的城市里，但是她研究不出它的名字。这个城市里有兵士和美丽的姑娘。他正在考虑去当兵或者娶一个姑娘。
爱尔茜听到这话，难过到极点。她愿意拿出她所有的储蓄，把他救出来，可是她不希望别人知道她在做这件事情。
老斯娣妮说，他一定会回来的。她可以做一套法事——一套对于有关的人说来很危险的法事，不过这是一个不得已的办法。她要为他熬一锅东西，使他不得不离开他所在的那个地方。锅在什么地方熬，他就得回到什么地方来——回到他最亲爱的人正在等着他的地方来。可能他要在好几个月以后才能回来，但是如果他还活着的话，他一定会回来的。
他一定是在日夜不停地、翻山涉水地旅行，不管天气是温和还是严寒，不管他是怎样劳累。他应该回家来，他一定要回家来。
月亮正是上弦。老斯娣妮说，这正是做法事的时候。这是暴风雨的天气，那棵老柳树裂开了：斯娣妮砍下一根枝条，把它挽成一个结——它可以把拉斯木斯引回到他母亲的家里来。她把屋顶上的青苔和石莲花都采下来，放进火上熬着的锅里去。这时爱尔茜得从《圣诗集》上扯下一页来。她偶然扯下了印着勘误表的最后一页。“这也同样有用！”斯娣妮说，于是便把它放进锅里去了。
汤里面必须有种种不同的东西，得不停地熬，一直熬到拉斯木斯回到家里来为止。斯娣妮房间里的那只黑公鸡的冠子也得割下来，放进汤里去。爱尔茜的那个大金戒指也得放进去，而且斯娣妮预先告诉她，放进去以后就永远不能收回。她，斯娣妮，真是聪明。许多我们不知其名的东西也被放进锅里去了。锅一直放在火上、发光的炭上或者滚热的灰上。只有她和爱尔茜知道这件事情。
月亮盈了，月亮亏了。爱尔茜常常跑来问：“你看到他回来没有？”
“我知道的事情很多！”斯娣妮说，“我看得见的事情很多！不过他走的那条路有多长，我却看不见。他一会儿在走过高山！一会儿在海上遇见恶劣的天气！穿过那个大森林的路是很长的，他的脚上起了泡，他的身体在发热，但是他得继续向前走！”
“不成！不成！”爱尔茜说，“这叫我感到难过！”
“他现在停不下来了！因为如果我们让他停下来的话，他就会倒在大路上死掉了！”
许多年又过去了！月亮又圆又大，风儿在那棵老树里呼啸，天上的月光中有一条长虹出现。
“这是一个证实的信号！”斯娣妮说。“拉斯木斯要回来了。”
可是他并没有回来。
“还需要等待很长的时间！”斯娣妮说。
“现在我等得腻了！”爱尔茜说。她不再常来看斯娣妮，也不再带礼物给她了。她的心略微轻松了一些。在一个晴朗的早晨，区里的人都知道爱尔茜对那个最有钱的农夫表示了“同意”。
她去看了一下农庄和田地，家畜和器具。一切都布置好了。现在再也没有什么东西可以延迟他们的婚礼了。
盛大的庆祝一连举行了三天。大家跟着笛子和提琴的节拍跳舞。区里的人都被请来了。奥尔塞妈妈也到来了。这场欢乐结束的时候，客人都道了谢，乐师都离去了，她带了些宴会上剩下来的东西回到家来。
她只是用了一根插销把门扣住。插销现在却被拉开了，门也开了，拉斯木斯坐在屋子里面。他回到家里来了，在这个时候回到家里来了。天哪，请看他的那副样子！他只剩下一层皮包骨，又黄又瘦！
“拉斯木斯！”母亲说，“我看到的就是你吗？你的样子多么难看啊！但是我从心眼里感到高兴，你又回到我身边来了！”
她把她从那个宴会带回的好食物给他吃——一块牛排，一块结婚的果馅饼。
他说，他在最近一个时期里常常想起母亲、家园和那棵老柳树，说来也真奇怪，他还常常在梦中看见这棵树和光着腿子的约翰妮。至于爱尔茜，他连名字也没有提一下。他现在病了，非躺在床上不可。但是我们不相信，这是由于那锅汤的缘故，或者这锅汤在他身上产生了什么魔力。只有老斯娣妮和爱尔茜才相信这一套，但是她们对谁也不提起这事情。
拉斯木斯躺在床上发热。他的病是带有传染性的，因此除了那个木鞋匠的女儿约翰妮以外，谁也不到这个裁缝的家里来。她看到拉斯木斯这副可怜的样子时，就哭起来了。
医生为他开了一个药方。但是他不愿意吃药。他说：“这有什么用呢？”
“有用的，吃了药你就会好的！”母亲说。“依靠你自己和我们的上帝吧！如果我再能看到你身上长起肉来，再能听到你吹口哨和唱歌，叫我舍弃我自己的生命都可以！”
拉斯木斯渐渐克服了疾病，但是他的母亲却患病了。我们的上帝没有把他召去，却把她叫去了。
这个家是很寂寞的，而且越变越穷。“他已经被拖垮了，”区里的人说。“可怜的拉斯木斯！”
他在旅行中所过的那种辛苦的生活——不是熬着汤的那口锅——耗尽了他的精力，拖垮了他的身体。他的头发变得稀薄和灰白了；什么事情他也没有心情好好地去做。“这又有什么用呢？”他说。他宁愿到酒店里去，而不愿上教堂。
在一个秋天的晚上，他走出酒店，在风吹雨打中，在一条泥泞的路上，摇摇摆摆地向家里走来。他的母亲早已经去世了，躺在坟墓里。那些忠诚的动物——燕子和欧椋鸟——也飞走了。只有木鞋匠的女儿约翰妮还没有走。她在路上赶上了他，陪着他走了一程。
“振作起来呀，拉斯木斯！”
“这有什么用呢？”他说。
“你说这句老话是没有出息啊！”她说。“请记住你母亲的话吧：‘依靠你自己和我们的上帝！’拉斯木斯，你没有这样办！一个人应该这样办，一个人必须这样办呀。切不要说‘有什么用呢？’这样，你就连做事的心情都没有了。”
她陪他走到他屋子的门口才离开。但他没有走进去；他走到那棵老柳树下，在那块倒下的里程碑上坐下来。
风儿在树枝间呼号着，像是在唱歌；又像在讲话。拉斯木斯回答它。他高声地讲，但是除了树和呼啸的风儿之外，谁也听不见他。
“我感到冷极了！现在该是上床去睡的时候了。睡吧！睡吧！”
于是他就去睡了；他没有走进屋子，而是走向水池——他在那儿摇晃了一下，倒下了。雨在倾盆地下着，风吹得像冰一样冷，但是他没有去理它。当太阳升起的时候，乌鸦在水池的芦苇上飞。他醒转来，已经是半死了。如果他的头倒到他的脚那边，他将永远不会起来了，绿色的浮萍将会成为他的尸衣。
这天约翰妮到这个裁缝的家里来。她是他的救星；她把他送到医院去。
“我们从小时起就是朋友，”她说；“你的母亲给过我吃的和喝的，我永远也报答不完！你将会恢复健康的，你将会活下去！”
我们的上帝要他活下去，但是他的身体和心灵却受到许多的波折。
燕子和欧椋鸟飞来了，飞去了，又飞回来了。拉斯木斯已经是未老先衰。他孤独地坐在屋子里，而屋子却一天比一天残破了。他很穷，他现在比约翰妮还要穷。
“你没有信心，”她说，“如果我们没有了上帝，那么我们还会有什么呢？你应该去领取圣餐！”她说。“你自从受了坚信礼以后，就一直没有去过。”
“唔，这又有什么用呢？”他说。
“如果你要这样讲，而且相信这句话，那么就随你的便吧！上帝是不愿意看到不情愿的客人坐在他的桌子旁的。不过请你想想你的母亲和你小时候的那些日子吧！你那时是一个虔诚的、可爱的孩子。我念一首圣诗给你听好吗？”
“这又有什么用呢？”他说。
“它给我安慰。”她说。
“约翰妮，你简直成了一个神圣的人！”他用沉重和困倦的眼睛望着她。
于是约翰妮念着圣诗。她不是从书本子上念，因为她没有书，她是在背诵。
“这都是漂亮的话！”他说，“但是我不能全部听懂。我的头是那么沉重！”
拉斯木斯已经成了一个老人；但是爱尔茜也不年轻了，如果我们要提起她的话——拉斯木斯从来不提。她已经是一个祖母。她的孙女是一个顽皮的小女孩。这个小姑娘跟村子里的别的孩子在一起玩耍。拉斯木斯拄着手杖走过来，站着不动，看着这些孩子玩耍，对他们微笑——于是过去的岁月就回到他的记忆中来了。爱尔茜的孙女指着他，大声说：“可怜的拉斯木斯！”别的孩子也学着她的样儿，大声说：“可怜的拉斯木斯！”同时跟在这个老头儿后面尖声叫喊。
那是灰色的、阴沉的一天；一连好几天都是这个样子。不过在灰色的、阴沉的日子后面跟着来的就是充满了阳光的日子。
这是一个美丽的圣灵降临节的早晨。教堂里装饰着绿色的赤杨枝，人们可以在里面闻到一种山林气息。阳光在教堂的座位上照着。祭台上的大蜡烛点起来了，大家在领圣餐。约翰妮跪在许多人中间，可是拉斯木斯却不在场。
正在这天早晨，我们的上帝来召唤他了。在上帝身边，他可以得到慈悲和怜悯。
自此以后，许多年过去了。裁缝的房子仍然在那儿，可是那里面没有任何人住着；只要有一场暴风雨打来，它就会坍塌。水池上盖满了芦苇和蒲草。风儿在那棵古树里呼啸，听起来好像是在唱一支歌。风儿在唱着它的调子，树儿讲着它的故事。如果你不懂得，那么请你去问济贫院里的约翰妮吧。
她住在那儿，唱着圣诗——她曾经为拉斯木斯唱过那首诗。她在想他，她——虔诚的人——在我们的上帝面前为他祈祷。她能够讲出在那棵古树中吟唱着的过去的日子，过去的记忆。
这篇作品发表在1872年，收集在哥本哈根出版的《新的童话和故事集》第3卷第2部里。这是这个集子的最后一部，出版的具体日期是1872年3月30日，离安徒生去世只有三年。安徒生的创作活动已经进入尾声。这是安徒生最后写的一篇有关童年时代开始的爱情故事。像他写的所有的这类故事一样，它的结尾照例是悲剧。他在暮年写出这样一篇故事，他的心态是怎样，我们无从推测。人老了忘性大，但儿童时代及青年时代的事情总记得很清楚，常常回到记忆中来。这个故事是否与安徒生本人的回忆有关，我们也无从推测。
不过安徒生这样解释他写这个故事的背景：“我儿时在奥登塞的时候看见过一个人，骨瘦如柴，很像骷髅，瘦弱不堪。一个年老的妇人——她常常讲些童话故事给我听——告诉我说，这人非常不幸。”看来，那个“熬锅”在他居留在国外的时候，就没有停止熬煮过。据说一个年轻人不管离开家多么远，爱他的人可以强迫他回来，办法是找一个巫婆把锅放在火上，把各种稀奇古怪的东西放进去，让它日夜熬煮。当一个年轻人回到家来的时候，他只会剩下皮包骨，样子极为可怜——是的，一般是直到他离开人世。这篇故事实际上写于1872年9月16—24日，安徒生写完这篇童话后，就再也没有能提起笔来。