是的，那就是小杜克。他的名字并不是真的叫杜克；不过当他还不会讲话的时候，就把自己叫做杜克。他的名字应该是“加尔”——明了这一点是有好处的。现在他得照料比他小很多的妹妹古斯塔乌，自己还要温习功课。但是同时要做这两件事情是不太容易的。这个可怜的孩子把小妹妹抱在膝上，对她唱些他所会唱的歌；在这同时，他还要看摊在面前的那本地理书。在明天到来以前，他必须记好西兰①主教区所属的一切城市的名字，知道人们应该知道的一切关于它们的事情。
①西兰（Sjaeland）是丹麦东部的群岛。面积7514平方公里。
现在他的妈妈回来了，因为她到外面去过。她把小小的古斯塔乌抱起来。杜克跑到窗子那儿，拼命看书，几乎把眼睛都看花了，因为天已经慢慢黑下来了；但是他的妈妈没有钱买蜡烛。
“那个洗衣的老太婆在街上走来了，”正在朝窗子外面望的妈妈说。“她连走路也走不动，但还是要从井里取一桶水上来。做个好孩子吧，杜克，快过去帮助这个老太太一下！”
杜克立刻就跑过去帮她的忙。不过当他回到房里来的时候，天已经很黑了。蜡烛他们是买不起的；他只得上床去睡，而他的床却是一张旧板凳。他躺在那上面，想着他的地理功课：西兰的主教区和老师所讲的一切东西。他的确应该先温习好，但是他现在没有法子做到。所以只好把地理课本放在枕头底下，因为他听说这可以帮助人记住课文，不过这个办法却不一定靠得住。
他躺在那上面，想了许多事情。忽然觉得有人吻他的眼睛和嘴。他似乎睡着了，又似乎没有睡着。他好像觉得那个洗衣老太婆的温柔的眼睛在看他，并且对他说：
“如果你明天记不住功课，那真是可惜得很！你帮助过我，我现在应该帮助你。我们的上帝总是帮助人的！”
杜克的那本书马上就在他的头底下窸窸窣窣地动起来了。
“吉克——哩基！咕！咕！”这原来是一只老母鸡跑出来了——而且它是一只却格①的鸡。“我是一只却格的母鸡，”它说。
于是它就告诉他，那个小镇有多少居民，那儿曾经打过一次仗——虽然这的确不值得一提②。
“克里布里，克里布里，扑！”有一件什么东西落下来了，这是一只木雕的雀子——一只在布列斯托③射鸟比赛时赢来的鹦鹉。它说那儿居民数目之多，等于它身上的钉子。它是很骄傲的。“多瓦尔生就住在我的附近。扑！我睡得真舒服！”
①却格是丹麦却格湾上的一个小镇。
②1677年6月1日，丹麦的舰队在却格湾击溃了瑞典的舰队。但是法国的国王路易十四却不准丹麦获得任何胜利的果实。这里所说“不值得一提”也许就是因为这个缘故。
③布列斯托（Praesto）是丹麦的一个小镇，它的附近有一个尼索（nyso）农庄。雕刻师多瓦尔生曾经住在这儿。
不过现在小杜克已经不是躺在床上，他忽然骑上了一匹马。跑！跑！跳！跳！马儿在驰骋着。一位穿得很漂亮的骑士，戴着发亮的头盔和修长的羽毛，把他抱在马鞍前面坐着。他们穿过森林，来到古老的城市伏尔丁堡①——这是一个非常热闹的大城市。国王的宫殿上耸立着许多高塔；塔上的窗子里射出亮光，那里面有歌声和跳舞。国王瓦尔得马尔和许多漂亮的宫女们在一直跳着舞。这时天已经亮了。当太阳出来的时候，整个城市和国王的宫殿就沉下去了，那些高塔也一个接着一个地不见了。最后只有一座塔立在原来宫殿所在地的山上。这个城市显得渺小和寒碜。小学生把书本夹在臂下走来了，说：“两千个居民。”不过这不是真的，因为事实上并没有这么多人。
小杜克躺在床上，仿佛是在做梦。又不像在做梦。不过有一个人站在他身边。
“小杜克！小杜克！”这声音说。这是一个水手——一个相当小的人物，小得好像一个海军学生，不过他并不是一个海军学生。“我特别代表柯苏尔来向你致敬——这是一个正在发展中的城市，一个活跃的、有汽船和邮车的城市。在过去，大家都说它很丑，不过现在这话却不对了。”
“我住在海边，”柯苏尔说。“我有一条公路和游乐的公园。我产生了一个诗人②，他是非常幽默的——就一般的诗人说来，这是少有的。有一次我很想送一条船出去，周游世界一番。不过我没有这样做，虽然我可以做得到。我的气味很香，因为在我的城门附近盛开着许多最美丽的玫瑰花。”
①在国王瓦尔得马尔时代，伏尔丁堡是丹麦一个很重要的城市。现在只剩下宫殿的废墟。
②指柏格森（Baggesen，1764～1826）。他是安徒生所喜爱的一个诗人。
小杜克看着它；它在他眼中是红色的和绿色的。当这种种的色彩渐渐消逝了以后，附近清亮的海湾上就出现了一个长满树林的斜坡。上面有一座美丽的老教堂，它顶上有两个高高的尖塔。一股涌泉从山里流出来，发出潺潺的声音。一位年老的国王坐在近旁，他的长头发上戴着一顶金王冠。这就是“泉水旁的赫洛尔王”——也就是人们现在所谓的罗斯吉尔得镇①。丹麦所有的国王和王后，头上戴着金冠，都手挽着手，走到这座山上的那个古教堂里来。于是琴楼上的风琴奏起来了，泉水也发出潺潺的鸣声。杜克看到这些景象，也听到这些声音。
“请不要忘记这王国的各个省份！”国王赫洛尔说。
立刻一切东西就不见了。是的，它们又变成了什么呢？这真像翻了一页书似的。这儿现在有一个年老的农家妇人。“她是一个锄草的农妇。她来自苏洛②——这儿连市场上都长起草来了。她把灰布围裙披在头上和肩上。围裙是潮湿的，一定是下过雨了。
“是的，下过了一阵雨！”她说。她知道荷尔堡的剧本中的许多有趣的片断，也全知道关于瓦尔得马尔和亚卜萨龙③的事情。不过她忽然蹲下来，摇着头，好像要跳跃似的。“呱—呱！”她说。“天下雨了！天下雨了！苏洛是像坟墓一样地静寂！”她现在变成了一只青蛙——“呱—呱！”——不一会儿她又变成了一个老女人。
①赫洛尔王（Hroar）是丹麦传说中的一个国王，大约生活在第五世纪后半期。罗斯吉尔得镇（Rosekilde）据说就是他建立起来的。此镇到1445年止是丹麦的首都，在这儿的礼拜堂里葬着许多丹麦的国王和王后。
②苏洛（Soro）是十二世纪建立起来的一个小镇，丹麦的伟大剧作家荷尔堡在这儿创办了有名的“苏洛书院”。安徒生在这里读过书。
③亚卜萨龙（Absalon，1123～1201）是丹麦的一个将军和政治家，曾征服过爱沙尼亚。
“一个人应该看天气穿衣服才对！”她说。“天下雨了！天下雨了！我住的这个城市像一个瓶子。你从瓶塞那儿进去，你还得从瓶口那儿出来！从前那里面装着些鲶鱼，现在这里面有一些红脸蛋的孩子。他们学到了许多学问——希伯莱文，希腊文——呱—呱！”
这很像青蛙的叫声，或者某人穿着一双大靴子在沼泽地上走过的声音；老是那么一个调子，既枯燥，又讨厌，讨厌得叫小杜克要酣睡了，而酣睡是再好不过的事情。
就是在这样的睡眠中也居然会做起梦来——或者说类似做梦一般。他那个有一双蓝眼睛和金黄色鬈发的小妹妹古斯塔乌忽然变成了一个亭亭玉立的小姐。她没有翅膀，但是她能飞翔。现在他们一起飞到西兰，飞过绿色的森林和蔚蓝色的湖泊。
“你听到公鸡叫么？小杜克？吉一克一哩一基！许多母鸡从却格飞出来！你可以有一个养鸡场——一个很大、很大的养鸡场！你将不会饥饿和贫困！像俗话所说的，你将射得鹦鹉；你将是一个富有和快乐的人！你的房子将会耸入云霄，像国王瓦尔得马尔的塔一样。它将有许多美丽的大理石像——像从布列斯托那儿搬来的一样——作为装饰。懂得我的意思了吧。你的名字将会像从柯苏尔开出的船一样，周游世界。同时在罗斯吉尔得——请不要忘记这些城市吧！”国王赫洛尔说。 “小杜克，你将会说出聪明而有理智的话来。当你最后走进坟墓里去的时候，你将会睡得很平安——”
“倒好像我是躺在苏洛似的！”小杜克说，于是便醒来了。这是一个晴朗的早晨。他一点也记不起这场梦。不过这倒也没有什么必要，因为一个人是不需要知道未来会发生的事情的。
现在他从床上跳下来，读他的书；马上他就懂得全部的功课了。那个洗衣的老太婆把头伸进门来，对他和蔼地点点头，说：
“好孩子，谢谢你昨天的帮忙！愿上帝使你的美丽的梦变成事实！”
小杜克完全不知道自己做了一场什么梦，不过上帝知道！
（1847）
这个小故事最先发表在《新的童话》里。安徒生的母亲是一个穷苦的洗衣妇。这个小故事的某些情节来自有关她的记忆。作者在有关他的《童话全集》的手记中写道：“这篇故事中有些情节牵涉到我儿时的记忆。”当然这里自然也牵涉到安徒生自己，“你的名字将会像从柯苏尔开出的船一样，周游世界。同时在罗斯吉尔得——请不要忘记这些城市吧！飘来国王赫洛尔的声音，'小杜克，你将会说出聪明而有理智的话来。当你最后走进坟墓里去的时候，你将会睡得很平安'。” 这也说明安徒生当时从事童话创作时的心情。
THE DREAM OF LITTLE TUK
Ah！ yes， that was little Tuk： in reality his name was not Tuk， but that was what he called himself before he could speak plain： he meant it for Charles，and it is all well enough if one does but know it. He had now to take care of his little sister Augusta， who was much younger than himself， and he was，besides， to learn his lesson at the same time； but these two things would not do together at all. There sat the poor little fellow， with his sister on his lap， and he sang to her all the songs he knew； and he glanced the while from time to time into the geography-book that lay open before him. By the next morning he was to have learnt all the towns in Zealand by heart， and to know about them all that is possible to be known.
His mother now came home， for she had been out， and took little Augusta on her arm. Tuk ran quickly to the window， and read so eagerly that he pretty nearly read his eyes out； for it got darker and darker， but his mother had no money to buy a candle.
“There goes the old washerwoman over the way，” said his mother， as she looked out of the window. “The poor woman can hardly drag herself along， and she must now drag the pail home from the fountain. Be a good boy， Tukey， and run across and help the old woman， won't you？”
So Tuk ran over quickly and helped her； but when he came back again into the room it was quite dark， and as to a light， there was no thought of such a thing. He was now to go to bed； that was an old turn-up bedstead； in it he lay and thought about his geography lesson， and of Zealand， and of all that his master had told him. He ought， to be sure， to have read over his lesson again，but that， you know， he could not do. He therefore put his geography-book under his pillow， because he had heard that was a very good thing to do when one wants to learn one's lesson； but one cannot， however， rely upon it entirely. Well， there he lay， and thought and thought， and all at once it was just as if someone kissed his eyes and mouth： he slept， and yet he did not sleep； it was as though the old washerwoman gazed on him with her mild eyes and said， “It were a GREat sin if you were not to know your lesson tomorrow morning. You have aided me， I therefore will now help you； and the loving God will do so at all times.” And all of a sudden the book under Tuk's pillow began scraping and scratching.
“Kickery-ki！ kluk！ kluk！ kluk！”——that was an old hen who came creeping along，and she was from Kjoge. “I am a Kjoger hen，”* said she， and then she related how many inhabitants there were there， and about the battle that had taken place， and which， after all， was hardly worth talking about.
* Kjoge， a town in the bay of Kjoge. “To see the Kjoge hens，” is an expression similar to “showing a child London，” which is said to be done by taking his head in both bands， and so lifting him off the ground. At the invasion of the English in 1807， an encounter of a no very glorious nature took place between the British troops and the undisciplined Danish militia.
“Kribledy， krabledy——plump！” down fell somebody： it was a wooden bird， the popinjay used at the shooting-matches at Prastoe. Now he said that there were just as many inhabitants as he had nails in his body； and he was very proud.“Thorwaldsen lived almost next door to me.* Plump！ Here I lie capitally.”
* Prastoe， a still smaller town than Kjoge. Some hundred paces from it lies the manor-house Ny Soe， where Thorwaldsen， the famed sculptor， generally sojourned during his stay in Denmark， and where he called many of his immortal works into existence.
But little Tuk was no longer lying down： all at once he was on horseback. On he went at full gallop， still galloping on and on. A knight with a gleaming plume， and most magnificently dressed， held him before him on the horse， and thus they rode through the wood to the old town of Bordingborg， and that was a large and very lively town. High towers rose from the castle of the king， and the brightness of many candles streamed from all the windows； within was dance and song， and King Waldemar and the young， richly-attired maids of honor danced together. The morn now came； and as soon as the sun appeared， the whole town and the king's palace crumbled together， and one tower after the other；and at last only a single one remained standing where the castle had been before，* and the town was so small and poor， and the school boys came along with their books under their arms， and said， “2000 inhabitants！” but that was not true， for there were not so many.
*Bordingborg， in the reign of King Waldemar， a considerable place， now an unimportant little town. One solitary tower only， and some remains of a wall，show where the castle once stood.
And little Tukey lay in his bed： it seemed to him as if he dreamed， and yet as if he were not dreaming； however， somebody was close beside him.
“Little Tukey！ Little Tukey！” cried someone near. It was a seaman， quite a little personage， so little as if he were a midshipman； but a midshipman it was not.
“Many remembrances from Corsor.* That is a town that is just rising into importance； a lively town that has steam-boats and stagecoaches： formerly people called it ugly， but that is no longer true. I lie on the sea，” said Corsor； “I have high roads and gardens， and I have given birth to a poet who was witty and amusing， which all poets are not. I once intended to equip a ship that was to sail all round the earth； but I did not do it， although I could have done so： and then， too， I smell so deliciously， for close before the gate bloom the most beautiful roses.”
*Corsor， on the GREat Belt， called， formerly， before the introduction of steam-vessels， when travellers were often obliged to wait a long time for a favorable wind， “the most tiresome of towns.” The poet Baggesen was born here.
Little Tuk looked， and all was red and GREen before his eyes； but as soon as the confusion of colors was somewhat over， all of a sudden there appeared a wooded slope close to the bay， and high up above stood a magnificent old church， with two high pointed towers. From out the hill-side spouted fountains in thick streams of water， so that there was a continual splashing； and close beside them sat an old king with a golden crown upon his white head： that was King Hroar， near the fountains， close to the town of Roeskilde， as it is now called. And up the slope into the old church went all the kings and queens of Denmark， hand in hand， all with their golden crowns； and the organ played and the fountains rustled. Little Tuk saw all， heard all. “Do not forget the diet，” said King Hroar.*
*Roeskilde， once the capital of Denmark. The town takes its name from King Hroar， and the many fountains in the neighborhood. In the beautiful cathedral the GREater number of the kings and queens of Denmark are interred. In Roeskilde， too， the members of the Danish Diet assemble.
Again all suddenly disappeared. Yes， and whither？ It seemed to him just as if one turned over a leaf in a book. And now stood there an old peasant-woman，who came from Soroe，* where grass grows in the market-place. She had an old GREy linen apron hanging over her head and back： it was so wet， it certainly must have been raining. “Yes， that it has，” said she； and she now related many pretty things out of Holberg's comedies， and about Waldemar and Absalon； but all at once she cowered together， and her head began shaking backwards and forwards， and she looked as she were going to make a spring. “Croak！ croak！”said she. “It is wet， it is wet； there is such a pleasant deathlike stillness in Sorbe！” She was now suddenly a frog， “Croak”； and now she was an old woman.“One must dress according to the weather，” said she. “It is wet； it is wet. My town is just like a bottle； and one gets in by the neck， and by the neck one must get out again！ In former times I had the finest fish， and now I have fresh rosy-cheeked boys at the bottom of the bottle， who learn wisdom， Hebrew，Greek——Croak！”
* Sorbe， a very quiet little town， beautifully situated， surrounded by woods and lakes. Holberg， Denmark's Moliere， founded here an academy for the sons of the nobles. The poets Hauch and Ingemann were appointed professors here. The latter lives there still.
When she spoke it sounded just like the noise of frogs， or as if one walked with GREat boots over a moor； always the same tone， so uniform and so tiring that little Tuk fell into a good sound sleep， which， by the bye， could not do him any harm.
But even in this sleep there came a dream， or whatever else it was： his little sister Augusta， she with the blue eyes and the fair curling hair， was suddenly a tall， beautiful girl， and without having wings was yet able to fly； and she now flew over Zealand——over the GREen woods and the blue lakes.
“Do you hear the cock crow， Tukey？ Cock-a-doodle-doo！ The cocks are flying up from Kjoge！ You will have a farm-yard， so large， oh！ so very large！ You will suffer neither hunger nor thirst！ You will get on in the world！ You will be a rich and happy man！ Your house will exalt itself like King Waldemar's tower，and will be richly decorated with marble statues， like that at Prastoe. You understand what I mean. Your name shall circulate with renown all round the earth， like unto the ship that was to have sailed from Corsor； and in Roeskilde——”
“Do not forget the diet！” said King Hroar.
“Then you will speak well and wisely， little Tukey； and when at last you sink into your grave， you shall sleep as quietly——”
“As if I lay in Soroe，” said Tuk， awaking. It was bright day， and he was now quite unable to call to mind his dream； that， however， was not at all necessary， for one may not know what the future will bring.
And out of bed he jumped， and read in his book， and now all at once he knew his whole lesson. And the old washerwoman popped her head in at the door，nodded to him friendly， and said， “Thanks， many thanks， my good child， for your help！ May the good ever-loving God fulfil your loveliest dream！”
Little Tukey did not at all know what he had dreamed， but the loving God knew it.
