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Andersen's Fairy Tales

"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
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