There were large holes and long cracks, out of which grew grass and leaves,
indeed the whole balcony, the courtyard, and the walls were so overgrown
with green that they looked like a garden. In the balcony stood flower-pots,
on which were heads having asses’ ears, but the flowers in them grew just
as they pleased. In one pot pinks were growing all over the sides, at least
the green leaves were shooting forth stalk and stem, and saying as plainly as
they could speak, “The air has fanned me, the sun has kissed me, and I am
promised a little flower for next Sunday-really for next Sunday.”
Then they entered a room in which the walls were covered with leather,
and the leather had golden flowers stamped upon it.
“Gilding will fade in damp weather,
To endure, there is nothing like leather,”
said the walls. Chairs handsomely carved, with elbows on each side, and
with very high backs, stood in the room, and as they creaked they seemed to
say, “Sit down. Oh dear, how I am creaking. I shall certainly have the gout
like the old cupboard. Gout in my back, ugh.”
And then the little boy entered the room where the old man sat.
“Thank you for the tin soldier my little friend,” said the old man, “and
thank you also for coming to see me.”
“Thanks, thanks,” or “Creak, creak,” said all the furniture.
There was so much that the pieces of furniture stood in each other’s way
to get a sight of the little boy.
On the wall near the centre of the room hung the picture of a beautiful
lady, young and gay, dressed in the fashion of the olden times, with
powdered hair, and a full, stiff skirt. She said neither “thanks” nor “creak,”
but she looked down upon the little boy with her mild eyes; and then he said
to the old man,
“Where did you get that picture?”
