The bottle neck 瓶颈
作者:古文学 时间:2017/12/18 8:50:20 阅读:次 类别:英语童话
THEBOTTLENECK瓶颈
CLOSEtothecornerofastreet,amongotherabodesofpoverty,stoodanexceedinglytall,narrowhouse,whichhadbeensoknockedaboutbytimethatitseemedoutofjointineverydirection.Thishousewasinhabitedbypoorpeople,butthedeepestpovertywasapparentinthegarretlodginginthegable.Infrontofthelittlewindow,anoldbentbird-cagehunginthesunshine,whichhadnotevenaproperwater-glass,butinsteadofitthebrokenneckofabottle,turnedupsidedown,andacorkstuckintomakeitholdthewaterwithwhichitwasfilled.Anoldmaidstoodatthewindow;shehadhungchickweedoverthecage,andthelittlelinnetwhichitcontainedhoppedfromperchtoperchandsangandtwitteredmerrily.
"Yes,it’sallverywellforyoutosing,"saidthebottleneck:thatis,hedidnotreallyspeakthewordsaswedo,fortheneckofabottlecannotspeak;buthethoughtthemtohimselfinhisownmind,justaspeoplesometimestalkquietlytothemselves.
"Yes,youmaysingverywell,youhaveallyourlimbsuninjured;youshouldfeelwhatitisliketoloseyourbody,andonlyhaveaneckandamouthleft,withacorkstuckinit,asIhave:youwouldn’tsingthen,Iknow.Afterall,itisjustaswellthattherearesomewhocanbehappy.Ihavenoreasontosing,norcouldIsingnowifIwereeversohappy;butwhenIwasawholebottle,andtheyrubbedmewithacork,didn’tIsingthen?Iusedtobecalledacompletelark.IrememberwhenIwentouttoapicnicwiththefurrier’sfamily,onthedayhisdaughterwasbetrothed,-itseemsasifitonlyhappenedyesterday.Ihavegonethroughagreatdealinmytime,whenIcometorecollect:Ihavebeeninthefireandinthewater,Ihavebeendeepintheearth,andhavemountedhigherintheairthanmostotherpeople,andnowIamswinginghere,outsideabird-cage,intheairandthesunshine.Oh,indeed,itwouldbeworthwhiletohearmyhistory;butIdonotspeakitaloud,foragoodreason-becauseIcannot."
Thenthebottleneckrelatedhishistory,whichwasreallyratherremarkable;he,infact,relatedittohimself,or,atleast,thoughtitinhisownmind.Thelittlebirdsanghisownsongmerrily;inthestreetbelowtherewasdrivingandrunningtoandfro,everyonethoughtofhisownaffairs,orperhapsofnothingatall;butthebottleneckthoughtdeeply.Hethoughtoftheblazingfurnaceinthefactory,wherehehadbeenblownintolife;herememberedhowhotitfeltwhenhewasplacedintheheatedoven,thehomefromwhichhesprang,andthathehadastronginclinationtoleapoutagaindirectly;butafterawhileitbecamecooler,andhefoundhimselfverycomfortable.Hehadbeenplacedinarow,withawholeregimentofhisbrothersandsistersallbroughtoutofthesamefurnace;someofthemhadcertainlybeenblownintochampagnebottles,andothersintobeerbottles,whichmadealittledifferencebetweenthem.Intheworlditoftenhappensthatabeerbottlemaycontainthemostpreciouswine,andachampagnebottlebefilledwithblacking,butevenindecayitmayalwaysbeseenwhetheramanhasbeenwellborn.Nobilityremainsnoble,asachampagnebottleremainsthesame,evenwithblackinginitsinterior.Whenthebottleswerepackedourbottlewaspackedamongstthem;itlittleexpectedthentofinishitscareerasabottleneck,ortobeusedasawater-glasstoabird’s-cage,whichis,afterall,aplaceofhonor,foritistobeofsomeuseintheworld.Thebottledidnotbeholdthelightofdayagain,untilitwasunpackedwiththerestinthewinemerchant’scellar,and,forthefirsttime,rinsedwithwater,whichcausedsomeverycurioussensations.Thereitlayempty,andwithoutacork,andithadapeculiarfeeling,asifitwantedsomethingitknewnotwhat.Atlastitwasfilledwithrichandcostlywine,acorkwasplacedinit,andsealeddown.Thenitwaslabelled"firstquality,"asifithadcarriedoffthefirstprizeatanexamination;besides,thewineandthebottlewerebothgood,andwhileweareyoungisthetimeforpoetry.Thereweresoundsofsongwithinthebottle,ofthingsitcouldnotunderstand,ofgreensunnymountains,wherethevinesgrowandwherethemerryvine-dresserslaugh,sing,andaremerry."Ah,howbeautifulislife."Allthesetonesofjoyandsonginthebottlewereliketheworkingofayoungpoet’sbrain,whooftenknowsnotthemeaningofthetoneswhicharesoundingwithinhim.Onemorningthebottlefoundapurchaserinthefurrier’sapprentice,whowastoldtobringoneofthebestbottlesofwine.Itwasplacedintheprovisionbasketwithhamandcheeseandsausages.Thesweetestfreshbutterandthefinestbreadwereputintothebasketbythefurrier’sdaughterherself,forshepackedit.Shewasyoungandpretty;herbrowneyeslaughed,andasmilelingeredroundhermouthassweetasthatinhereyes.Shehaddelicatehands,beautifullywhite,andherneckwaswhiterstill.Itcouldeasilybeseenthatshewasaverylovelygirl,andasyetshewasnotengaged.Theprovisionbasketlayinthelapoftheyounggirlasthefamilydroveouttotheforest,andtheneckofthebottlepeepedoutfrombetweenthefoldsofthewhitenapkin.Therewastheredwaxonthecork,andthebottlelookedstraightattheyounggirl’sface,andalsoatthefaceoftheyoungsailorwhosatnearher.Hewasayoungfriend,thesonofaportraitpainter.Hehadlatelypassedhisexaminationwithhonor,asmate,andthenextmorninghewastosailinhisshiptoadistantcoast.Therehadbeenagreatdealoftalkonthissubjectwhilethebasketwasbeingpacked,andduringthisconversationtheeyesandthemouthofthefurrier’sdaughterdidnotwearaveryjoyfulexpression.
Theyoungpeoplewanderedawayintothegreenwood,andtalkedtogether.Whatdidtheytalkabout?Thebottlecouldnotsay,forhewasintheprovisionbasket.Itremainedtherealongtime;butwhenatlastitwasbroughtforthitappearedasifsomethingpleasanthadhappened,foreveryonewaslaughing;thefurrier’sdaughterlaughedtoo,butshesaidverylittle,andhercheekswereliketworoses.Thenherfathertookthebottleandthecork-screwintohishands.Whatastrangesensationitwastohavethecorkdrawnforthefirsttime!
Thebottlecouldneverafterthatforgettheperformanceofthatmoment;indeedtherewasquiteaconvulsionwithinhimasthecorkflewout,andagurglingsoundasthewinewaspouredforthintotheglasses.
"Longlifetothebetrothed,"criedthepapa,andeveryglasswasemptiedtothedregs,whiletheyoungsailorkissedhisbeautifulbride.
"Happinessandblessingtoyouboth,"saidtheoldpeople-fatherandmother,andtheyoungmanfilledtheglassesagain.
"Safereturn,andaweddingthisdaynextyear,"hecried;andwhentheglasseswereemptyhetookthebottle,raiseditonhigh,andsaid,"Thouhastbeenpresenthereonthehappiestdayofmylife;thoushaltneverbeusedbyothers!"
Sosaying,hehurledithighintheair.Thefurrier’sdaughterthoughtsheshouldneverseeitagain,butshewasmistaken.Itfellamongtherushesonthebordersofalittlewoodlandlake.Thebottleneckrememberedwellhowlongitlaythereunseen."Igavethemwine,andtheygavememuddywater,"hehadsaidtohimself,"butIsupposeitwasallwellmeant."Hecouldnolongerseethebetrothedcouple,northecheerfuloldpeople;butforalongtimehecouldhearthemrejoicingandsinging.Atlengththerecamebytwopeasantboys,whopeepedinamongthereedsandspiedoutthebottle.Thentheytookitupandcarriedithomewiththem,sothatoncemoreitwasprovidedfor.Athomeintheirwoodencottagetheseboyshadanelderbrother,asailor,whowasabouttostartonalongvoyage.Hehadbeentherethedaybeforetosayfarewell,andhismotherwasnowverybusypackingupvariousthingsforhimtotakewithhimonhisvoyage.Intheeveninghisfatherwasgoingtocarrytheparceltothetowntoseehissononcemore,andtakehimafarewellgreetingfromhismother.Asmallbottlehadalreadybeenfilledwithherbtea,mixedwithbrandy,andwrappedinaparcel;butwhentheboyscameintheybroughtwiththemalargerandstrongerbottle,whichtheyhadfound.Thisbottlewouldholdsomuchmorethanthelittleone,andtheyallsaidthebrandywouldbesogoodforcomplaintsofthestomach,especiallyasitwasmixedwithmedicalherbs.Theliquidwhichtheynowpouredintothebottlewasnotliketheredwinewithwhichithadoncebeenfilled;thesewerebitterdrops,buttheyareofgreatusesometimes-forthestomach.
Thenewlargebottlewastogo,notthelittleone:sothebottleoncemorestartedonitstravels.Itwastakenonboard(forPeterJensenwasoneofthecrew)theverysameshipinwhichtheyoungmatewastosail.Butthematedidnotseethebottle:indeed,ifhehadhewouldnothaveknownit,orsupposeditwastheoneoutofwhichtheyhaddrunktothefelicityofthebetrothedandtotheprospectofamarriageonhisownhappyreturn.Certainlythebottlenolongerpouredforthwine,butitcontainedsomethingquiteasgood;andsoithappenedthatwheneverPeterJensenbroughtitout,hismessmatesgaveitthenameof"theapothecary,"foritcontainedthebestmedicinetocurethestomach,andhegaveitoutquitewillinglyaslongasadropremained.Thosewerehappydays,andthebottlewouldsingwhenrubbedwithacork,anditwascalledagreatlark,""PeterJensen’slark."
Longdaysandmonthsrolledby,duringwhichthebottlestoodemptyinacorner,whenastormarose-whetheronthepassageoutorhomeitcouldnottell,forithadneverbeenashore.Itwasaterriblestorm,greatwavesarose,darklyheavingandtossingthevesseltoandfro.Themainmastwassplitasunder,theshipsprangaleak,andthepumpsbecameuseless,whileallaroundwasblackasnight.Atthelastmoment,whentheshipwassinking,theyoungmatewroteonapieceofpaper,"Wearegoingdown:God’swillbedone."Thenhewrotethenameofhisbetrothed,hisownname,andthatoftheship.Thenheputtheleafinanemptybottlethathappenedtobeathand,corkeditdowntightly,andthrewitintothefoamingsea.Heknewnotthatitwastheverysamebottlefromwhichthegobletofjoyandhopehadoncebeenfilledforhim,andnowitwastossingonthewaveswithhislastgreeting,andamessagefromthedead.Theshipsank,andthecrewsankwithher;butthebottleflewonlikeabird,foritborewithinitalovingletterfromalovingheart.Andasthesunroseandset,thebottlefeltasatthetimeofitsfirstexistence,whenintheheatedglowingstoveithadalongingtoflyaway.Itoutlivedthestormsandthecalm,itstruckagainstnorocks,wasnotdevouredbysharks,butdriftedonformorethanayear,sometimestowardsthenorth,sometimestowardsthesouth,justasthecurrentcarriedit.
Itwasinallotherwaysitsownmaster,butevenofthatonemaygettired.Thewrittenleaf,thelastfarewellofthebridegroomtohisbride,wouldonlybringsorrowwhenonceitreachedherhands;butwherewerethosehands,sosoftanddelicate,whichhadoncespreadthetable-clothonthefreshgrassinthegreenwood,onthedayofherbetrothal?Ah,yes!wherewasthefurrier’sdaughter?andwherewasthelandwhichmightlienearesttoherhome?
Thebottleknewnot,ittravelledonwardandonward,andatlastallthiswanderingaboutbecamewearisome;atalleventsitwasnotitsusualoccupation.Butithadtotravel,tillatlengthitreachedland-aforeigncountry.Notawordspokeninthiscountrycouldthebottleunderstand;itwasalanguageithadneverbeforeheard,anditisagreatlossnottobeabletounderstandalanguage.Thebottlewasfishedoutofthewater,andexaminedonallsides.Thelittlelettercontainedwithinitwasdiscovered,takenout,andturnedandtwistedineverydirection;butthepeoplecouldnotunderstandwhatwaswrittenuponit.Theycouldbequitesurethatthebottlehadbeenthrownoverboardfromavessel,andthatsomethingaboutitwaswrittenonthispaper:butwhatwaswritten?thatwasthequestion,-sothepaperwasputbackintothebottle,andthenbothwereputawayinalargecupboardofoneofthegreathousesofthetown.Wheneveranystrangersarrived,thepaperwastakenoutandturnedoverandover,sothattheaddress,whichwasonlywritteninpencil,becamealmostillegible,andatlastnoonecoulddistinguishanylettersonitatall.Forawholeyearthebottleremainedstandinginthecupboard,andthenitwastakenuptotheloft,whereitsoonbecamecoveredwithdustandcobwebs.Ah!howoftenthenitthoughtofthosebetterdays-ofthetimeswheninthefresh,greenwood,ithadpouredforthrichwine;or,whilerockedbytheswellingwaves,ithadcarriedinitsbosomasecret,aletter,alastpartingsigh.Forfulltwentyyearsitstoodintheloft,anditmighthavestayedtherelongerbutthatthehousewasgoingtoberebuilt.Thebottlewasdiscoveredwhentheroofwastakenoff;theytalkedaboutit,butthebottledidnotunderstandwhattheysaid-alanguageisnottobelearntbylivinginaloft,evenfortwentyyears."IfIhadbeendownstairsintheroom,"thoughtthebottle,"Imighthavelearntit."Itwasnowwashedandrinsed,whichprocesswasreallyquitenecessary,andafterwardsitlookedcleanandtransparent,andfeltyoungagaininitsoldage;butthepaperwhichithadcarriedsofaithfullywasdestroyedinthewashing.Theyfilledthebottlewithseeds,thoughitscarcelyknewwhathadbeenplacedinit.Thentheycorkeditdowntightly,andcarefullywrappeditup.Therenoteventhelightofatorchorlanterncouldreachit,muchlessthebrightnessofthesunormoon.
"Andyet,"thoughtthebottle,"mengoonajourneythattheymayseeasmuchaspossible,andIcanseenothing."However,itdidsomethingquiteasimportant;ittravelledtotheplaceofitsdestination,andwasunpacked.
"Whattroubletheyhavetakenwiththatbottleoveryonder!"saidone,andverylikelyitisbrokenafterall."
Butthebottlewasnotbroken,and,betterstill,itunderstoodeverywordthatwassaid:thislanguageithadheardatthefurnacesandatthewinemerchant’s;inthe;forestandontheship,-itwastheonlygoodoldlanguageitcouldunderstand.Ithadreturnedhome,andthelanguagewasasawelcomegreeting.Forveryjoy,itfeltreadytojumpoutofpeople’shands,andscarcelynoticedthatitscorkhadbeendrawn,anditscontentsemptiedout,tillitfounditselfcarriedtoacellar,tobeleftthereandforgotten."There’snoplacelikehome,evenifit’sacellar."Itneveroccurredtohimtothinkthathemightliethereforyears,hefeltsocomfortable.Formanylongyearsheremainedinthecellar,tillatlastsomepeoplecametocarryawaythebottles,andoursamongstthenumber.
Outinthegardentherewasagreatfestival.Brilliantlampshunginfestoonsfromtreetotree;andpaperlanterns,throughwhichthelightshonetilltheylookedliketransparenttulips.Itwasabeautifulevening,andtheweathermildandclear.Thestarstwinkled;andthenewmoon,intheformofacrescent,wassurroundedbytheshadowydiscofthewholemoon,andlookedlikeagrayglobewithagoldenrim:itwasabeautifulsightforthosewhohadgoodeyes.Theilluminationextendedeventothemostretiredofthegardenwalks,atleastnotsoretiredthatanyoneneedlosehimselfthere.Intheborderswereplacedbottles,eachcontainingalight,andamongthemthebottlewithwhichweareacquainted,andwhosefateitwas,oneday,tobeonlyabottleneck,andtoserveasawater-glasstoabird’s-cage.Everythinghereappearedlovelytoourbottle,foritwasagaininthegreenwood,amidjoyandfeasting;againitheardmusicandsong,andthenoiseandmurmurofacrowd,especiallyinthatpartofthegardenwherethelampsblazed,andthepaperlanternsdisplayedtheirbrilliantcolors.Itstoodinadistantwalkcertainly,butaplacepleasantforcontemplation;anditcarriedalight;andwasatonceusefulandornamental.Insuchanhouritiseasytoforgetthatonehasspenttwentyyearsinaloft,andagoodthingitistobeabletodoso.
Closebeforethebottlepassedasinglepair,likethebridalpair-themateandthefurrier’sdaughter-whohadsolongagowanderedinthewood.Itseemedtothebottleasifhewerelivingthattimeoveragain.Notonlytheguestsbutotherpeoplewerewalkinginthegarden,whowereallowedtowitnessthesplendorandthefestivities.Amongthelattercameanoldmaid,whoseemedtobequitealoneintheworld.Shewasthinking,likethebottle,ofthegreenwood,andofayoungbetrothedpair,whowerecloselyconnectedwithherself;shewasthinkingofthathour,thehappiestofherlife,inwhichshehadtakenpart,whenshehadherselfbeenoneofthatbetrothedpair;suchhoursarenevertobeforgotten,letamaidenbeasoldasshemay.Butshedidnotrecognizethebottle,neitherdidthebottlenoticetheoldmaid.Andsoweoftenpasseachotherintheworldwhenwemeet,asdidthesetwo,evenwhiletogetherinthesametown.
Thebottlewastakenfromthegarden,andagainsenttoawinemerchant,whereitwasoncemorefilledwithwine,andsoldtoanaeronaut,whowastomakeanascentinhisballoononthefollowingSunday.Agreatcrowdassembledtowitnessthesight;militarymusichadbeenengaged,andmanyotherpreparationsmade.Thebottlesawitallfromthebasketinwhichhelayclosetoaliverabbit.Therabbitwasquiteexcitedbecauseheknewthathewastobetakenup,andletdownagaininaparachute.Thebottle,however,knewnothingofthe"up,"orthe"down;"hesawonlythattheballoonwasswellinglargerandlargertillitcouldswellnomore,andbegantoriseandberestless.Thentheropeswhichhelditwerecutthrough,andtheaerialshiproseintheairwiththeaeronautandthebasketcontainingthebottleandtherabbit,whilethemusicsoundedandallthepeopleshouted"Hurrah."
"Thisisawonderfuljourneyupintotheair,"thoughtthebottle;"itisanewwayofsailing,andhere,atleast,thereisnofearofstrikingagainstanything."
Thousandsofpeoplegazedattheballoon,andtheoldmaidwhowasinthegardensawitalso;forshestoodattheopenwindowofthegarret,bywhichhungthecagecontainingthelinnet,whothenhadnowater-glass,butwasobligedtobecontentedwithanoldcup.Inthewindow-sillstoodamyrtleinapot,andthishadbeenpushedalittleononeside,thatitmightnotfallout;fortheoldmaidwasleaningoutofthewindow,thatshemightsee.Andshedidseedistinctlytheaeronautintheballoon,andhowheletdowntherabbitintheparachute,andthendranktothehealthofallthespectatorsinthewinefromthebottle.Afterdoingthis,hehurledithighintotheair.Howlittleshethoughtthatthiswastheverysamebottlewhichherfriendhadthrownaloftinherhonor,onthathappydayofrejoicing,inthegreenwood,inheryouthfuldays.Thebottlehadnotimetothink,whenraisedsosuddenly;andbeforeitwasaware,itreachedthehighestpointithadeverattainedinitslife.Steeplesandroofslayfar,farbeneathit,andthepeoplelookedastinyaspossible.Thenitbegantodescendmuchmorerapidlythantherabbithaddone,madesomersaultsintheair,andfeltitselfquiteyoungandunfettered,althoughitwashalffullofwine.Butthisdidnotlastlong.Whatajourneyitwas!
Allthepeoplecouldseethebottle;forthesunshoneuponit.Theballoonwasalreadyfaraway,andverysoonthebottlewasfarawayalso;foritfelluponaroof,andbrokeinpieces.Butthepieceshadgotsuchanimpetusinthem,thattheycouldnotstopthemselves.Theywentjumpingandrollingabout,tillatlasttheyfellintothecourt-yard,andwerebrokenintostillsmallerpieces;onlytheneckofthebottlemanagedtokeepwhole,anditwasbrokenoffascleanasifithadbeencutwithadiamond.
"Thatwouldmakeacapitalbird’sglass,"saidoneofthecellar-men;butnoneofthemhadeitherabirdoracage,anditwasnottobeexpectedtheywouldprovideonejustbecausetheyhadfoundabottleneckthatcouldbeusedasaglass.
Buttheoldmaidwholivedinthegarrethadabird,anditreallymightbeusefultoher;sothebottleneckwasprovidedwithacork,andtakenuptoher;and,asitoftenhappensinlife,thepartthathadbeenuppermostwasnowturneddownwards,anditwasfilledwithfreshwater.Thentheyhungitinthecageofthelittlebird,whosangandtwitteredmoremerrilythanever.
"Ah,youhavegoodreasontosing,"saidthebottleneck,whichwaslookeduponassomethingveryremarkable,becauseithadbeeninaballoon;nothingfurtherwasknownofitshistory.Asithungthereinthebird’s-cage,itcouldhearthenoiseandmurmurofthepeopleinthestreetbelow,aswellastheconversationoftheoldmaidintheroomwithin.
Anoldfriendhadjustcometovisither,andtheytalked,notaboutthebottleneck,butofthemyrtleinthewindow.
"No,youmustnotspendadollarforyourdaughter’sbridalbouquet,"saidtheoldmaid;"youshallhaveabeautifullittlebunchforanosegay,fullofblossoms.Doyouseehowsplendidlythetreehasgrown?Ithasbeenraisedfromonlyalittlesprigofmyrtlethatyougavemeonthedayaftermybetrothal,andfromwhichIwastomakemyownbridalbouquetwhenayearhadpassed:butthatdaynevercame;theeyeswereclosedwhichweretohavebeenmylightandjoythroughlife.Inthedepthsoftheseamybelovedsleepssweetly;themyrtlehasbecomeanoldtree,andIamastillolderwoman.Beforethesprigyougavemefaded,Itookaspray,andplanteditintheearth;andnow,asyousee,ithasbecomealargetree,andabunchoftheblossomsshallatlastappearataweddingfestival,inthebouquetofyourdaughter."
Thereweretearsintheeyesoftheoldmaid,asshespokeofthebelovedofheryouth,andoftheirbetrothalinthewood.Manythoughtscameintohermind;butthethoughtnevercame,thatquiteclosetoher,inthatverywindow,wasaremembranceofthoseoldentimes,-theneckofthebottlewhichhad,asitwereshoutedforjoywhenthecorkflewoutwithabangonthebetrothalday.Butthebottleneckdidnotrecognizetheoldmaid;hehadnotbeenlisteningtowhatshehadrelated,perhapsbecausehewasthinkingsomuchabouther.
THEEND
CLOSEtothecornerofastreet,amongotherabodesofpoverty,stoodanexceedinglytall,narrowhouse,whichhadbeensoknockedaboutbytimethatitseemedoutofjointineverydirection.Thishousewasinhabitedbypoorpeople,butthedeepestpovertywasapparentinthegarretlodginginthegable.Infrontofthelittlewindow,anoldbentbird-cagehunginthesunshine,whichhadnotevenaproperwater-glass,butinsteadofitthebrokenneckofabottle,turnedupsidedown,andacorkstuckintomakeitholdthewaterwithwhichitwasfilled.Anoldmaidstoodatthewindow;shehadhungchickweedoverthecage,andthelittlelinnetwhichitcontainedhoppedfromperchtoperchandsangandtwitteredmerrily.
"Yes,it’sallverywellforyoutosing,"saidthebottleneck:thatis,hedidnotreallyspeakthewordsaswedo,fortheneckofabottlecannotspeak;buthethoughtthemtohimselfinhisownmind,justaspeoplesometimestalkquietlytothemselves.
"Yes,youmaysingverywell,youhaveallyourlimbsuninjured;youshouldfeelwhatitisliketoloseyourbody,andonlyhaveaneckandamouthleft,withacorkstuckinit,asIhave:youwouldn’tsingthen,Iknow.Afterall,itisjustaswellthattherearesomewhocanbehappy.Ihavenoreasontosing,norcouldIsingnowifIwereeversohappy;butwhenIwasawholebottle,andtheyrubbedmewithacork,didn’tIsingthen?Iusedtobecalledacompletelark.IrememberwhenIwentouttoapicnicwiththefurrier’sfamily,onthedayhisdaughterwasbetrothed,-itseemsasifitonlyhappenedyesterday.Ihavegonethroughagreatdealinmytime,whenIcometorecollect:Ihavebeeninthefireandinthewater,Ihavebeendeepintheearth,andhavemountedhigherintheairthanmostotherpeople,andnowIamswinginghere,outsideabird-cage,intheairandthesunshine.Oh,indeed,itwouldbeworthwhiletohearmyhistory;butIdonotspeakitaloud,foragoodreason-becauseIcannot."
Thenthebottleneckrelatedhishistory,whichwasreallyratherremarkable;he,infact,relatedittohimself,or,atleast,thoughtitinhisownmind.Thelittlebirdsanghisownsongmerrily;inthestreetbelowtherewasdrivingandrunningtoandfro,everyonethoughtofhisownaffairs,orperhapsofnothingatall;butthebottleneckthoughtdeeply.Hethoughtoftheblazingfurnaceinthefactory,wherehehadbeenblownintolife;herememberedhowhotitfeltwhenhewasplacedintheheatedoven,thehomefromwhichhesprang,andthathehadastronginclinationtoleapoutagaindirectly;butafterawhileitbecamecooler,andhefoundhimselfverycomfortable.Hehadbeenplacedinarow,withawholeregimentofhisbrothersandsistersallbroughtoutofthesamefurnace;someofthemhadcertainlybeenblownintochampagnebottles,andothersintobeerbottles,whichmadealittledifferencebetweenthem.Intheworlditoftenhappensthatabeerbottlemaycontainthemostpreciouswine,andachampagnebottlebefilledwithblacking,butevenindecayitmayalwaysbeseenwhetheramanhasbeenwellborn.Nobilityremainsnoble,asachampagnebottleremainsthesame,evenwithblackinginitsinterior.Whenthebottleswerepackedourbottlewaspackedamongstthem;itlittleexpectedthentofinishitscareerasabottleneck,ortobeusedasawater-glasstoabird’s-cage,whichis,afterall,aplaceofhonor,foritistobeofsomeuseintheworld.Thebottledidnotbeholdthelightofdayagain,untilitwasunpackedwiththerestinthewinemerchant’scellar,and,forthefirsttime,rinsedwithwater,whichcausedsomeverycurioussensations.Thereitlayempty,andwithoutacork,andithadapeculiarfeeling,asifitwantedsomethingitknewnotwhat.Atlastitwasfilledwithrichandcostlywine,acorkwasplacedinit,andsealeddown.Thenitwaslabelled"firstquality,"asifithadcarriedoffthefirstprizeatanexamination;besides,thewineandthebottlewerebothgood,andwhileweareyoungisthetimeforpoetry.Thereweresoundsofsongwithinthebottle,ofthingsitcouldnotunderstand,ofgreensunnymountains,wherethevinesgrowandwherethemerryvine-dresserslaugh,sing,andaremerry."Ah,howbeautifulislife."Allthesetonesofjoyandsonginthebottlewereliketheworkingofayoungpoet’sbrain,whooftenknowsnotthemeaningofthetoneswhicharesoundingwithinhim.Onemorningthebottlefoundapurchaserinthefurrier’sapprentice,whowastoldtobringoneofthebestbottlesofwine.Itwasplacedintheprovisionbasketwithhamandcheeseandsausages.Thesweetestfreshbutterandthefinestbreadwereputintothebasketbythefurrier’sdaughterherself,forshepackedit.Shewasyoungandpretty;herbrowneyeslaughed,andasmilelingeredroundhermouthassweetasthatinhereyes.Shehaddelicatehands,beautifullywhite,andherneckwaswhiterstill.Itcouldeasilybeseenthatshewasaverylovelygirl,andasyetshewasnotengaged.Theprovisionbasketlayinthelapoftheyounggirlasthefamilydroveouttotheforest,andtheneckofthebottlepeepedoutfrombetweenthefoldsofthewhitenapkin.Therewastheredwaxonthecork,andthebottlelookedstraightattheyounggirl’sface,andalsoatthefaceoftheyoungsailorwhosatnearher.Hewasayoungfriend,thesonofaportraitpainter.Hehadlatelypassedhisexaminationwithhonor,asmate,andthenextmorninghewastosailinhisshiptoadistantcoast.Therehadbeenagreatdealoftalkonthissubjectwhilethebasketwasbeingpacked,andduringthisconversationtheeyesandthemouthofthefurrier’sdaughterdidnotwearaveryjoyfulexpression.
Theyoungpeoplewanderedawayintothegreenwood,andtalkedtogether.Whatdidtheytalkabout?Thebottlecouldnotsay,forhewasintheprovisionbasket.Itremainedtherealongtime;butwhenatlastitwasbroughtforthitappearedasifsomethingpleasanthadhappened,foreveryonewaslaughing;thefurrier’sdaughterlaughedtoo,butshesaidverylittle,andhercheekswereliketworoses.Thenherfathertookthebottleandthecork-screwintohishands.Whatastrangesensationitwastohavethecorkdrawnforthefirsttime!
Thebottlecouldneverafterthatforgettheperformanceofthatmoment;indeedtherewasquiteaconvulsionwithinhimasthecorkflewout,andagurglingsoundasthewinewaspouredforthintotheglasses.
"Longlifetothebetrothed,"criedthepapa,andeveryglasswasemptiedtothedregs,whiletheyoungsailorkissedhisbeautifulbride.
"Happinessandblessingtoyouboth,"saidtheoldpeople-fatherandmother,andtheyoungmanfilledtheglassesagain.
"Safereturn,andaweddingthisdaynextyear,"hecried;andwhentheglasseswereemptyhetookthebottle,raiseditonhigh,andsaid,"Thouhastbeenpresenthereonthehappiestdayofmylife;thoushaltneverbeusedbyothers!"
Sosaying,hehurledithighintheair.Thefurrier’sdaughterthoughtsheshouldneverseeitagain,butshewasmistaken.Itfellamongtherushesonthebordersofalittlewoodlandlake.Thebottleneckrememberedwellhowlongitlaythereunseen."Igavethemwine,andtheygavememuddywater,"hehadsaidtohimself,"butIsupposeitwasallwellmeant."Hecouldnolongerseethebetrothedcouple,northecheerfuloldpeople;butforalongtimehecouldhearthemrejoicingandsinging.Atlengththerecamebytwopeasantboys,whopeepedinamongthereedsandspiedoutthebottle.Thentheytookitupandcarriedithomewiththem,sothatoncemoreitwasprovidedfor.Athomeintheirwoodencottagetheseboyshadanelderbrother,asailor,whowasabouttostartonalongvoyage.Hehadbeentherethedaybeforetosayfarewell,andhismotherwasnowverybusypackingupvariousthingsforhimtotakewithhimonhisvoyage.Intheeveninghisfatherwasgoingtocarrytheparceltothetowntoseehissononcemore,andtakehimafarewellgreetingfromhismother.Asmallbottlehadalreadybeenfilledwithherbtea,mixedwithbrandy,andwrappedinaparcel;butwhentheboyscameintheybroughtwiththemalargerandstrongerbottle,whichtheyhadfound.Thisbottlewouldholdsomuchmorethanthelittleone,andtheyallsaidthebrandywouldbesogoodforcomplaintsofthestomach,especiallyasitwasmixedwithmedicalherbs.Theliquidwhichtheynowpouredintothebottlewasnotliketheredwinewithwhichithadoncebeenfilled;thesewerebitterdrops,buttheyareofgreatusesometimes-forthestomach.
Thenewlargebottlewastogo,notthelittleone:sothebottleoncemorestartedonitstravels.Itwastakenonboard(forPeterJensenwasoneofthecrew)theverysameshipinwhichtheyoungmatewastosail.Butthematedidnotseethebottle:indeed,ifhehadhewouldnothaveknownit,orsupposeditwastheoneoutofwhichtheyhaddrunktothefelicityofthebetrothedandtotheprospectofamarriageonhisownhappyreturn.Certainlythebottlenolongerpouredforthwine,butitcontainedsomethingquiteasgood;andsoithappenedthatwheneverPeterJensenbroughtitout,hismessmatesgaveitthenameof"theapothecary,"foritcontainedthebestmedicinetocurethestomach,andhegaveitoutquitewillinglyaslongasadropremained.Thosewerehappydays,andthebottlewouldsingwhenrubbedwithacork,anditwascalledagreatlark,""PeterJensen’slark."
Longdaysandmonthsrolledby,duringwhichthebottlestoodemptyinacorner,whenastormarose-whetheronthepassageoutorhomeitcouldnottell,forithadneverbeenashore.Itwasaterriblestorm,greatwavesarose,darklyheavingandtossingthevesseltoandfro.Themainmastwassplitasunder,theshipsprangaleak,andthepumpsbecameuseless,whileallaroundwasblackasnight.Atthelastmoment,whentheshipwassinking,theyoungmatewroteonapieceofpaper,"Wearegoingdown:God’swillbedone."Thenhewrotethenameofhisbetrothed,hisownname,andthatoftheship.Thenheputtheleafinanemptybottlethathappenedtobeathand,corkeditdowntightly,andthrewitintothefoamingsea.Heknewnotthatitwastheverysamebottlefromwhichthegobletofjoyandhopehadoncebeenfilledforhim,andnowitwastossingonthewaveswithhislastgreeting,andamessagefromthedead.Theshipsank,andthecrewsankwithher;butthebottleflewonlikeabird,foritborewithinitalovingletterfromalovingheart.Andasthesunroseandset,thebottlefeltasatthetimeofitsfirstexistence,whenintheheatedglowingstoveithadalongingtoflyaway.Itoutlivedthestormsandthecalm,itstruckagainstnorocks,wasnotdevouredbysharks,butdriftedonformorethanayear,sometimestowardsthenorth,sometimestowardsthesouth,justasthecurrentcarriedit.
Itwasinallotherwaysitsownmaster,butevenofthatonemaygettired.Thewrittenleaf,thelastfarewellofthebridegroomtohisbride,wouldonlybringsorrowwhenonceitreachedherhands;butwherewerethosehands,sosoftanddelicate,whichhadoncespreadthetable-clothonthefreshgrassinthegreenwood,onthedayofherbetrothal?Ah,yes!wherewasthefurrier’sdaughter?andwherewasthelandwhichmightlienearesttoherhome?
Thebottleknewnot,ittravelledonwardandonward,andatlastallthiswanderingaboutbecamewearisome;atalleventsitwasnotitsusualoccupation.Butithadtotravel,tillatlengthitreachedland-aforeigncountry.Notawordspokeninthiscountrycouldthebottleunderstand;itwasalanguageithadneverbeforeheard,anditisagreatlossnottobeabletounderstandalanguage.Thebottlewasfishedoutofthewater,andexaminedonallsides.Thelittlelettercontainedwithinitwasdiscovered,takenout,andturnedandtwistedineverydirection;butthepeoplecouldnotunderstandwhatwaswrittenuponit.Theycouldbequitesurethatthebottlehadbeenthrownoverboardfromavessel,andthatsomethingaboutitwaswrittenonthispaper:butwhatwaswritten?thatwasthequestion,-sothepaperwasputbackintothebottle,andthenbothwereputawayinalargecupboardofoneofthegreathousesofthetown.Wheneveranystrangersarrived,thepaperwastakenoutandturnedoverandover,sothattheaddress,whichwasonlywritteninpencil,becamealmostillegible,andatlastnoonecoulddistinguishanylettersonitatall.Forawholeyearthebottleremainedstandinginthecupboard,andthenitwastakenuptotheloft,whereitsoonbecamecoveredwithdustandcobwebs.Ah!howoftenthenitthoughtofthosebetterdays-ofthetimeswheninthefresh,greenwood,ithadpouredforthrichwine;or,whilerockedbytheswellingwaves,ithadcarriedinitsbosomasecret,aletter,alastpartingsigh.Forfulltwentyyearsitstoodintheloft,anditmighthavestayedtherelongerbutthatthehousewasgoingtoberebuilt.Thebottlewasdiscoveredwhentheroofwastakenoff;theytalkedaboutit,butthebottledidnotunderstandwhattheysaid-alanguageisnottobelearntbylivinginaloft,evenfortwentyyears."IfIhadbeendownstairsintheroom,"thoughtthebottle,"Imighthavelearntit."Itwasnowwashedandrinsed,whichprocesswasreallyquitenecessary,andafterwardsitlookedcleanandtransparent,andfeltyoungagaininitsoldage;butthepaperwhichithadcarriedsofaithfullywasdestroyedinthewashing.Theyfilledthebottlewithseeds,thoughitscarcelyknewwhathadbeenplacedinit.Thentheycorkeditdowntightly,andcarefullywrappeditup.Therenoteventhelightofatorchorlanterncouldreachit,muchlessthebrightnessofthesunormoon.
"Andyet,"thoughtthebottle,"mengoonajourneythattheymayseeasmuchaspossible,andIcanseenothing."However,itdidsomethingquiteasimportant;ittravelledtotheplaceofitsdestination,andwasunpacked.
"Whattroubletheyhavetakenwiththatbottleoveryonder!"saidone,andverylikelyitisbrokenafterall."
Butthebottlewasnotbroken,and,betterstill,itunderstoodeverywordthatwassaid:thislanguageithadheardatthefurnacesandatthewinemerchant’s;inthe;forestandontheship,-itwastheonlygoodoldlanguageitcouldunderstand.Ithadreturnedhome,andthelanguagewasasawelcomegreeting.Forveryjoy,itfeltreadytojumpoutofpeople’shands,andscarcelynoticedthatitscorkhadbeendrawn,anditscontentsemptiedout,tillitfounditselfcarriedtoacellar,tobeleftthereandforgotten."There’snoplacelikehome,evenifit’sacellar."Itneveroccurredtohimtothinkthathemightliethereforyears,hefeltsocomfortable.Formanylongyearsheremainedinthecellar,tillatlastsomepeoplecametocarryawaythebottles,andoursamongstthenumber.
Outinthegardentherewasagreatfestival.Brilliantlampshunginfestoonsfromtreetotree;andpaperlanterns,throughwhichthelightshonetilltheylookedliketransparenttulips.Itwasabeautifulevening,andtheweathermildandclear.Thestarstwinkled;andthenewmoon,intheformofacrescent,wassurroundedbytheshadowydiscofthewholemoon,andlookedlikeagrayglobewithagoldenrim:itwasabeautifulsightforthosewhohadgoodeyes.Theilluminationextendedeventothemostretiredofthegardenwalks,atleastnotsoretiredthatanyoneneedlosehimselfthere.Intheborderswereplacedbottles,eachcontainingalight,andamongthemthebottlewithwhichweareacquainted,andwhosefateitwas,oneday,tobeonlyabottleneck,andtoserveasawater-glasstoabird’s-cage.Everythinghereappearedlovelytoourbottle,foritwasagaininthegreenwood,amidjoyandfeasting;againitheardmusicandsong,andthenoiseandmurmurofacrowd,especiallyinthatpartofthegardenwherethelampsblazed,andthepaperlanternsdisplayedtheirbrilliantcolors.Itstoodinadistantwalkcertainly,butaplacepleasantforcontemplation;anditcarriedalight;andwasatonceusefulandornamental.Insuchanhouritiseasytoforgetthatonehasspenttwentyyearsinaloft,andagoodthingitistobeabletodoso.
Closebeforethebottlepassedasinglepair,likethebridalpair-themateandthefurrier’sdaughter-whohadsolongagowanderedinthewood.Itseemedtothebottleasifhewerelivingthattimeoveragain.Notonlytheguestsbutotherpeoplewerewalkinginthegarden,whowereallowedtowitnessthesplendorandthefestivities.Amongthelattercameanoldmaid,whoseemedtobequitealoneintheworld.Shewasthinking,likethebottle,ofthegreenwood,andofayoungbetrothedpair,whowerecloselyconnectedwithherself;shewasthinkingofthathour,thehappiestofherlife,inwhichshehadtakenpart,whenshehadherselfbeenoneofthatbetrothedpair;suchhoursarenevertobeforgotten,letamaidenbeasoldasshemay.Butshedidnotrecognizethebottle,neitherdidthebottlenoticetheoldmaid.Andsoweoftenpasseachotherintheworldwhenwemeet,asdidthesetwo,evenwhiletogetherinthesametown.
Thebottlewastakenfromthegarden,andagainsenttoawinemerchant,whereitwasoncemorefilledwithwine,andsoldtoanaeronaut,whowastomakeanascentinhisballoononthefollowingSunday.Agreatcrowdassembledtowitnessthesight;militarymusichadbeenengaged,andmanyotherpreparationsmade.Thebottlesawitallfromthebasketinwhichhelayclosetoaliverabbit.Therabbitwasquiteexcitedbecauseheknewthathewastobetakenup,andletdownagaininaparachute.Thebottle,however,knewnothingofthe"up,"orthe"down;"hesawonlythattheballoonwasswellinglargerandlargertillitcouldswellnomore,andbegantoriseandberestless.Thentheropeswhichhelditwerecutthrough,andtheaerialshiproseintheairwiththeaeronautandthebasketcontainingthebottleandtherabbit,whilethemusicsoundedandallthepeopleshouted"Hurrah."
"Thisisawonderfuljourneyupintotheair,"thoughtthebottle;"itisanewwayofsailing,andhere,atleast,thereisnofearofstrikingagainstanything."
Thousandsofpeoplegazedattheballoon,andtheoldmaidwhowasinthegardensawitalso;forshestoodattheopenwindowofthegarret,bywhichhungthecagecontainingthelinnet,whothenhadnowater-glass,butwasobligedtobecontentedwithanoldcup.Inthewindow-sillstoodamyrtleinapot,andthishadbeenpushedalittleononeside,thatitmightnotfallout;fortheoldmaidwasleaningoutofthewindow,thatshemightsee.Andshedidseedistinctlytheaeronautintheballoon,andhowheletdowntherabbitintheparachute,andthendranktothehealthofallthespectatorsinthewinefromthebottle.Afterdoingthis,hehurledithighintotheair.Howlittleshethoughtthatthiswastheverysamebottlewhichherfriendhadthrownaloftinherhonor,onthathappydayofrejoicing,inthegreenwood,inheryouthfuldays.Thebottlehadnotimetothink,whenraisedsosuddenly;andbeforeitwasaware,itreachedthehighestpointithadeverattainedinitslife.Steeplesandroofslayfar,farbeneathit,andthepeoplelookedastinyaspossible.Thenitbegantodescendmuchmorerapidlythantherabbithaddone,madesomersaultsintheair,andfeltitselfquiteyoungandunfettered,althoughitwashalffullofwine.Butthisdidnotlastlong.Whatajourneyitwas!
Allthepeoplecouldseethebottle;forthesunshoneuponit.Theballoonwasalreadyfaraway,andverysoonthebottlewasfarawayalso;foritfelluponaroof,andbrokeinpieces.Butthepieceshadgotsuchanimpetusinthem,thattheycouldnotstopthemselves.Theywentjumpingandrollingabout,tillatlasttheyfellintothecourt-yard,andwerebrokenintostillsmallerpieces;onlytheneckofthebottlemanagedtokeepwhole,anditwasbrokenoffascleanasifithadbeencutwithadiamond.
"Thatwouldmakeacapitalbird’sglass,"saidoneofthecellar-men;butnoneofthemhadeitherabirdoracage,anditwasnottobeexpectedtheywouldprovideonejustbecausetheyhadfoundabottleneckthatcouldbeusedasaglass.
Buttheoldmaidwholivedinthegarrethadabird,anditreallymightbeusefultoher;sothebottleneckwasprovidedwithacork,andtakenuptoher;and,asitoftenhappensinlife,thepartthathadbeenuppermostwasnowturneddownwards,anditwasfilledwithfreshwater.Thentheyhungitinthecageofthelittlebird,whosangandtwitteredmoremerrilythanever.
"Ah,youhavegoodreasontosing,"saidthebottleneck,whichwaslookeduponassomethingveryremarkable,becauseithadbeeninaballoon;nothingfurtherwasknownofitshistory.Asithungthereinthebird’s-cage,itcouldhearthenoiseandmurmurofthepeopleinthestreetbelow,aswellastheconversationoftheoldmaidintheroomwithin.
Anoldfriendhadjustcometovisither,andtheytalked,notaboutthebottleneck,butofthemyrtleinthewindow.
"No,youmustnotspendadollarforyourdaughter’sbridalbouquet,"saidtheoldmaid;"youshallhaveabeautifullittlebunchforanosegay,fullofblossoms.Doyouseehowsplendidlythetreehasgrown?Ithasbeenraisedfromonlyalittlesprigofmyrtlethatyougavemeonthedayaftermybetrothal,andfromwhichIwastomakemyownbridalbouquetwhenayearhadpassed:butthatdaynevercame;theeyeswereclosedwhichweretohavebeenmylightandjoythroughlife.Inthedepthsoftheseamybelovedsleepssweetly;themyrtlehasbecomeanoldtree,andIamastillolderwoman.Beforethesprigyougavemefaded,Itookaspray,andplanteditintheearth;andnow,asyousee,ithasbecomealargetree,andabunchoftheblossomsshallatlastappearataweddingfestival,inthebouquetofyourdaughter."
Thereweretearsintheeyesoftheoldmaid,asshespokeofthebelovedofheryouth,andoftheirbetrothalinthewood.Manythoughtscameintohermind;butthethoughtnevercame,thatquiteclosetoher,inthatverywindow,wasaremembranceofthoseoldentimes,-theneckofthebottlewhichhad,asitwereshoutedforjoywhenthecorkflewoutwithabangonthebetrothalday.Butthebottleneckdidnotrecognizetheoldmaid;hehadnotbeenlisteningtowhatshehadrelated,perhapsbecausehewasthinkingsomuchabouther.
THEEND
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