(1855)
In a nursery where a number of toys lay scattered about, a money-box
stood on the top of a very high wardrobe. It was made of clay in the shape
of a pig, and had been bought of the potter. In the back of the pig was a slit,
and this slit had been enlarged with a knife, so that dollars, or crown pieces,
might slip through; and, indeed there were two in the box, besides a number
of pence. The money-pig was stuffed so full that it could no longer rattle,
which is the highest state of perfection to which a money-pig can attain.
There he stood upon the cupboard, high and lofty, looking down upon
everything else in the room. He knew very well that he had enough inside
him to buy up all the other toys, and this gave him a very good opinion of
his own value. The rest thought of this fact also, although they did not
express it, for there were so many other things to talk about. A large doll,
still handsome, though rather old, for her neck had been mended, lay inside
one of the drawers which was partly open. She called out to the others, “Let
us have a game at being men and women, that is something worth playing
at.”
Upon this there was a great uproar; even the engravings, which hung in
frames on the wall, turned round in their excitement, and showed that they
had a wrong side to them, although they had not the least intention to
expose themselves in this way, or to object to the game. It was late at night,
but as the moon shone through the windows, they had light at a cheap rate.
And as the game was now to begin, all were invited to take part in it, even
the children’s wagon, which certainly belonged to the coarser playthings.
“Each has its own value,” said the wagon; “we cannot all be noblemen;
there must be some to do the work.”
The money-pig was the only one who received a written invitation. He
stood so high that they were afraid he would not accept a verbal message.
