shoemaker’s wife had sewn for little Karen. There is really nothing in the
world that can be compared to red shoes!
Karen was now old enough to be confirmed; she received some new
clothes, and she was also to have some new shoes. The rich shoemaker in
the town took the measure of her little foot in his own room, in which there
stood great glass cases full of pretty shoes and white slippers. It all looked
very lovely, but the old lady could not see very well, and therefore did not
get much pleasure out of it. Amongst the shoes stood a pair of red ones, like
those which the princess had worn. How beautiful they were! and the
shoemaker said that they had been made for a count’s daughter, but that
they had not fitted her.
“I suppose they are of shiny leather?” asked the old lady. “They shine
so.”
“Yes, they do shine,” said Karen. They fitted her, and were bought. But
the old lady knew nothing of their being red, for she would never have
allowed Karen to be confirmed in red shoes, as she was now to be.
Everybody looked at her feet, and the whole of the way from the church
door to the choir it seemed to her as if even the ancient figures on the
monuments, in their stiff collars and long black robes, had their eyes fixed
on her red shoes. It was only of these that she thought when the clergyman
laid his hand upon her head and spoke of the holy baptism, of the covenant
with God, and told her that she was now to be a grown-up Christian. The
organ pealed forth solemnly, and the sweet children’s voices mingled with
that of their old leader; but Karen thought only of her red shoes. In the
afternoon the old lady heard from everybody that Karen had worn red
shoes. She said that it was a shocking thing to do, that it was very improper,
and that Karen was always to go to church in future in black shoes, even if
they were old.
On the following Sunday there was Communion. Karen looked first at
the black shoes, then at the red ones-looked at the red ones again, and put
them on.
